Page 7

Something’s wrong. Something more than a cake mix-up.
The makeup artist steps back, her work finished.
I stand, smoothing my hands down the front of my gown, and move toward the door. “I want to see what’s going on.”
Ricarda steps in front of me, blocking my path. “No, no, no. You stay here. I’ll handle everything.”
I try to step around her, but she mirrors my movements, her expression growing more strained by the second.
“Ricarda, move. I’m not going to sit here while who knows what is happening out there.”
“Signorina, please. You don’t want to ruin your big day, do you? Let your Uncle take care of it.”
The noise outside grows louder, many voices and… Is that Gemma?
Fuck this. I’m not some delicate flower that needs to be protected. I gather up my skirts and shove past Ricarda, ignoring her protests.
I hurry down the hallway, the voices growing louder, but one rings out clearer than all the rest. The fiery tone of my best friend Gemma. It’s coming from the entrance. My legs move on instinct as I race around the corner.
“—want to see Lil!” Gemma says.
“Is that too much to ask?” Mary adds.
They came.
Uncle Marc stands in front of them, blocking their way.
“What’s going on here?” I ask.
Uncle Marc turns to me, his face a mask of calm. “Nothing to worry about. Just a small misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Gemma stomps her foot. “He won’t let us in.”
“Let them through, Uncle Marc,” I say.
“You don’t need any distractions right now,” he says. “It’s your wedding day.”
My voice is steady, but inside I’m shaking. “Exactly. It’s my wedding day, and I want my best friends here with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Uncle Marc’s jaw tightens. “These two don’t belong here. Especially not Ms. Barron.”
Gemma’s eyes flash with defiance. “We’re her best friends. You can’t keep us from her, not today of all days.”
“I can and I will. This day is too important to let anyone disrupt it,” Uncle Marc says.
I step between them, my hands shaking. “Enough.” I regard Uncle Marc. “They’re staying. End of discussion.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, and I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.
Finally, he steps aside. “Fine. But these two better behave.”
Gemma and Mary rush forward, enveloping me in a hug. I cling to them, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper.
“Of course, we came,” Gemma says. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world. Even though you went MIA on us for months.”
“We’re here for you. No matter what,” Mary says.