Page 68 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)
I know she’s used to getting her way when she uses that baby voice, but I only feel disgust toward her. Coldness coats my voice even though my anger is red hot.
“Was audacity on sale the day you bought that dress?”
Angelica looks taken aback. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
My eyes narrow into slits as I repeat the exact words she said to her sister at the engagement party in New Jersey. “You know it’s against wedding etiquette to wear white, right? Only the bride is supposed to wear white.”
She has the nerve to roll her eyes. “Pshht, that’s such an outdated concept. I think guests should wear what looks best on them, and I look amazing in this dress.”
Without a second thought, I tip my hand forward and pour the entire glass of red wine down the front of her dress. Then I sling it by the stem until every single crimson drop stains the shiny fabric.
Angelica lets out a shriek I’m surprised doesn’t shatter the glass in my hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I hear footsteps running toward us, and turn to find Albert Bell approaching, a glass of what looks like whiskey sloshing in one hand. “What is all this yelling?”
Angelica points an accusing finger at me. “Daddy, he poured wine all over my dress,” she whines.
“My hand slipped,” I lie, flexing my fingers for effect. “I’m going to have to get that looked at.”
Nicolette’s father seethes, and I’m afraid it’s directed at me until he surprises the shit out of me and whirls on his oldest daughter. “What the hell are you wearing, Angelica?”
She lets out a noise of frustration and gestures wildly at her stained dress. “This was the dress I was wearing to the wedding until he ruined it.” The look she throws at me is full of pure venom.
Albert lowers his voice to a scary level. “You know better than to wear white to a wedding, Angelica Ann. Hell, I’m a man, and I know the bride is the only woman that should wear white. What were you thinking?”
Before she can answer, Bridget Bell joins the festivities, her eyes wide. It should have come as no surprise to me that she’d also be wearing an inappropriate color for someone else’s wedding, but here she is in an ivory formal gown.
“Oh my god, baby,” she squawks, batting ineffectively at Angelica’s dress. “What happened?”
“Helix dumped wine on me,” the brat tattles, and her mother spins on me, eyes glowing like a demon in a B-rate movie.
“How dare you?” she spits, taking a menacing step toward me, but her husband steps in between us and blocks her path.
“What is this, Bridget?” he demands, gesturing at her dress. “Where is the pink dress you showed me?”
Her chin lifts haughtily as she turns her attention from me to Albert. “I changed my mind because I thought this one suited me better. Angelica helped me to pick it out.”
“Figures,” he mutters. “You two did this on purpose, didn’t you? To ruin Nicolette’s wedding.”
“I—what? How dare you,” she splutters, propping her hands on her hips. “You are out of line, Albert Bell.”
“No, Bridget, you’re the one who’s out of line,” he shouts.
“You and this little monster you created,” he says, waving a hand toward Angelica.
The little monster in question gasps in outrage, but Albert isn’t done.
“I’ve stood by for too many years while you two treated Nicolette like garbage, but that ends today .
Both of you go change right now, and if you put a single toe out of line for the rest of this wedding, you’ll have me to answer to. ”
Bridget doubles down, squinting at her husband. “I didn’t bring another dress. This is the one I’m wearing.”
They’re nose to nose, having an epic staredown, a war of the wills, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” start up in the background.
What happens next surprises the hell out of me. Albert Bell slowly lifts his arm and deliberately dumps the contents of his glass over his wife’s head. It drenches her hair and drips brown liquid all over the light-colored material of her dress. I resist the urge to applaud. Barely.
Then Bridget draws back her hand and slaps her husband’s face just as three security guards round the corner. Ho-ly hell. This is like some Jerry Springer shit.
“Whoa, whoa. Back up, ma’am,” one of them calls as another gets between the couple with his hands outstretched.
The third guard I recognize as Tessa Blanchard, head of security for the wedding.
We’ve had a few problems with the paparazzi following us since news broke of my upcoming marriage to Nicolette, so we have an entire team on hand to keep everyone safe and our wedding as private as possible.
“Dr. Hale, what’s going on?” she asks, approaching me on brisk feet.
“These two women were attempting to sabotage our wedding,” I tell her. “I want them removed.” Tessa immediately spins on her heel, barking orders into the device on her collar, and seconds later, four more guards sprint toward us.
“I didn’t do anything!” Bridget protests. The guards surround her and Angelica as the team awaits their orders.
Tessa ignores the screeching and looks to Albert. “Sir, would you like to press charges on that woman for assault?”
He hesitates for a moment before saying, “Yes, I think I would.”
“What? You piece of shit,” his wife yells. Angelica is squalling like a baby asBridget attempts to stomp over to her husband, but she’s stopped once again by a guard, this one built like a mountain.
“Unless,” Albert adds, “Bridget and Angelica go directly to the airport and leave. Then I won’t press charges.”
“You don’t mean that,” Bridget says. I notice she’s a lot quieter now that she’s been threatened with jail time. It’s probably still an act.
“I do mean it,” Albert replies. “You two have bullied Nicolette since she was a little girl, and I blame myself as much as you because I could have stopped it at any time. But I was too weak. I wanted to keep the peace in the house. You and Angelica were the loudest, squeakiest wheels, and I allowed you to get the grease, and sweet Nicolette was the one who suffered because of it. She tolerated your passive-aggressive bullshit because I wasn’t strong enough to put a stop to it.
But it stops right fucking now.” His chest is heaving with emotion, and I notice tears streaming down his face.
“I won’t allow you to ruin the best day of her life because she deserves this happiness.
Go home, Bridget, and let Nicolette have her day in the sun. I’ll deal with you when I get home.”
Then he spins around and walks swiftly away, leaving his wife and older daughter stunned in his wake. I’m pretty sure they’ve never been talked to like that, but it was about damn time.
I say a quick word to Tessa, telling her to take the two women to the airport and leave them there and to make sure the staff are all aware to keep them from the hotel. And I follow Albert, seeing him disappear into a men’s room ahead.
I wait by the door until he emerges ten minutes later with reddened eyes. He shoots me a guilty look.
“Would it be inappropriate for me to clap right now?” I ask, earning me a small smile from the man.
“Yes, because it was too little, too late. I should have done that years ago.” Albert clears his throat. “I understand if you don’t want me here. I’ll leave if you think that’s what’s best for Nicolette.”
“I’d like you to stay, and I think Nicolette would as well.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Now let’s both go get a drink. I have a little story about a baby elephant I want to tell you.”
My wife brings tears to my eyes when she walks down the aisle.
Auburn was correct; I’m ecstatic. Nicolette’s creamy ivory dress is a ballgown style with a fitted bodice and sweetheart neckline.
Layer upon layer of sumptuous silk make up the skirt, which gives her the appearance of floating toward me.
It’s a dress fit for a queen, which is fitting because that’s what she is to me… my queenie.
Her hair is down, her curls wide and loose, like it was styled with hot rollers. And of course, her makeup is perfect. I can barely get through the vows without dipping her low and kissing her, but when the moment finally comes, I do just that. I kiss my wife.
Once we’ve walked up the aisle after being introduced as Dr. and Dr. Hale for the first time, I kiss her again.
“You are absolutely stunning, Nicolette. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
She smiles up at me, the flowers of her huge bridal bouquet tickling the back of my neck. “I’m the lucky one, husband. I love you so much.”
I rub my nose against hers. “I love you too.” My hands slide down over the thick layers of fabric over her hips. “And I can’t wait to see what you’re hiding beneath these skirts.”
“I think you’ll be pleased, husband.” My wife’s smile turns sexy, and she goes up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear as the bridal party recessional begins. “It’s very slooty.”
I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to love it.