Faster Hotter (19 page)

The morning fades away into the excitement of the afternoon in no time flat. Bex and I go to work with our hair and makeup, sitting side by side at her vanity mirror. I can’t keep my eyes off my best friend’s face as she gets ready. Her eyes are absolutely brimming with joy. She may have flawless makeup and a tumble of blonde curls that anyone would envy, but it’s that happiness that makes her truly stunning.

“OK,” she says breathlessly. “It’s time for the dress.”

I leap up excitedly and reach for her gown. “Are you sure you don’t want your mom and Mrs. Spano to help you into it?” I ask.

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head, “I just want you here, Siena. But hold on—let’s do you first!”

“Don’t worry about me,” I start to say, but Bex will have none of it.

“Nonsense,” she says, producing my dusty blue maid of honor dress from the closet, “If you can help the bride, I can help the pregnant lady.”

“Bex!” I squeal, “They might hear you—”

“Good!” she laughs, “Then at least the secret will finally be out. What are you going to do, tell him on the way to the hospital?”

“I know it sounds stupid,” I tell her, as she opens the back of the dress for me to step into, “But I kinda want to know what he thinks about getting married, first.”

I feel Bex tense up beside me. “Is that so?” she asks, her voice strange.

“Is that really terrible?” I ask nervously.

“No! No. I think it’s...I think it’s a fine idea,” she says, clearing her throat. “But I don’t want to stress you out talking about it. Into the dress you go!”

I let her zip me into the fifties-inspired dress, definitely a departure from my usual slinky style. But the wide skirt and high waist are perfect for my burgeoning body, even if the changes have only been slight so far.

“OK, now it’s your turn,” I say, taking her wedding dress down from where it hangs.

A reverent hush falls over us both as Bex gingerly steps into her dress, the tulle rustling gently in the silence. I hold my breath as I guide the zipper up her spine, securing her into her wedding gown. As one, we lift our eyes to the full length mirror beside the window.

“Bex...” I breathe.

“Oh my God...” she whispers.

I knew that Bex would be a beautiful bride, but nothing could have prepared either of us for just how beautiful she is in this moment. She looks like she’s stepped down off Mount Olympus to grace us mortals with her presence. The gown falls down around her like a shapely stray cloud, and her hair falls in perfect blonde waves.

“I’ll be damned,” she says, turning this way and that, “I clean up pretty good.”

“Bex?” says her mother from the other side of the door, “We’re all ready for you downstairs, honey.”

“Here we go,” Bex squeals, clutching my hands.

“I love you so much, Bex,” I tell her, blinking back happy tears.

“I love you too, Siena,” she smiles, “Now let’s go an get me hitched, yeah?”

The small wedding party is assembled in the Bishops’ modest library. A string trio plays softly in the other room as we wait to enter. Mr. Bishop steps out into the foyer just as Bex comes down the stairs. He’s arrested by the sight of his gorgeous daughter, and wordlessly offers his arm. Bex takes it, beaming, and nods to me. I take a deep breath, clutch my simple bouquet of Gardenias, and make my way into the library.

Everyone is standing around the bay windows, waiting with bated breath. Charlie and Gus stand side by side before the makeshift altar—Charlie staring raptly beyond me to catch the first glimpse of his bride. Enzo and Harrison stand patiently as Mrs. Spano and Mrs. Bishop clutch their arms in anticipation. I swallow a chuckle at the sight, and take my place beside Gus. The musicians, arranged along the far side of the room, suspend their tune and strike up a sweet, light bridal chorus. We all turn our eyes earnestly toward the door, and watch as Bex and her father enter.

A sweeping intake of breath rings out through the room as the assembled guests behold the bride. Sudden tears take me by surprise as she walks toward us, her eyes fixed firmly on her husband-to-be. The look on Charlie’s face is one I’ll never forget. Gone and long forgotten are his nerves. In their place, only awe and admiration remain. Bex and her father draw up before us and hug, briefly but fiercely. There’s no talk of anyone giving her away—she’s always been her own woman to give.

Charlie offers his hand to Bex, who entwines her fingers with his. They turn to face Gus, eyes wide and joyful. Charlie’s father begins.

“We are gathered here today to join Bex and Charlie in marriage,” he starts, “You’ll have to forgive me if I seem a bit shaky. I’ve never officiated a wedding before. Did you know you can just get a certificate online and wham—officiate away? It’s crazy—”

Charlie clears his throat softly, snapping Gus back to attention.

“Yes, right,” he says, “As Charlie’s father, I’ve seen him go through every phase of his life. Some of those phases were great—playing catch, studying at university. And some of them—all of the teenage years, the terrible two’s—not so much. But what I can say now, is that never before in my son’s life have I seen him as happy, as confident, and as at peace with himself as he’s been since meeting Bex.”

The moms sniffle in unison as Bex and Charlie trade a luminous look.

“The love that you two have for each other is so apparent, so contagious, that you make the world a better place just by being together. And I couldn’t have dreamt up a better daughter than Bex if I tried. The bride and groom have requested, in so many words, that I skip all the boring ceremony stuff and get right to the good part.”

That’s my cue. I hand over the rings I’ve been carrying, one to each. Bex and Charlie slip the simple gold bands onto each other’s ring fingers, grinning like mad.

“And so, Charlie,” Gus goes on, “Do you take Bex to be your wife?”

“I do,” Charlie says, looking intently into Bex’s eyes.

“Bex, do you take Charlie to be your hus—”

“I do,” Bex says, cutting him off in her excitement.

“Then by the power vested in my by...the two of you,” Gus says, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—

But by the time the words have left his mouth, Charlie and Bex are deep in the first kiss of their married lives. The moms weep happily onto Enzo and Harrison’s shoulders as the boys clap and holler for the newlyweds. The happy couple comes up for air, looking around at their dearly beloved. Who knew that such a tiny room could hold so much boundless love and excitement as this?

As they hurry out of the library to snap a few pictures in the golden light of the afternoon, Harrison and I lock eyes across the room. Everyone else rushes out ahead, leaving us alone in the stately study. I hope that my eyes weren’t too wistful as I watched the ceremony. Though, would it be so terrible if Harrison knew just how badly I want to marry him?

“You look incredible, Siena,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“That was quite the service, right?” I reply, “Short and sweet.”

“It was perfect for them,” Harrison agrees, “And they’re perfect for each other.”

To think that less than a year ago, Harrison and Charlie were glaring at each other in a Barcelona bar, fighting over who got to buy me drinks. Quite a lot can happen in a year, I suppose. And even more to come.

“I guess we should get out there,” I say, moving to go.

“Siena, wait,” Harrison says, catching my arm, “I wanted to—”

I’m distracted from his intent eyes as the door to the library creaks open once more. I look up and find myself staring into some very familiar, very unexpected eyes. My mother, Camilla, sidles into the room, a lovely smile on her face.

“Mom?” I exclaim, rushing to hug her, “What are you doing here?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she says, glancing at Harrison, “The Spano’s invited me for the reception, I was just coming to say hello.”

“No, we were just—”

My words cut off as I spot the harried look on Harrison’s face. Is he blushing? I look back and forth between him and my mother. Some unspoken communication seems to have passed between them. Why am I not in the loop, here?

“We’d better report for photos, right?” Harrison says shortly, giving my mother a quick hug, “Then we can get to the good part—cocktail hour.”

I let myself be led from the library, wondering what’s come over Harrison. What did my mother interrupt a moment ago? What was it that Harrison was so eager to discuss? Well, whatever it is, it’ll have to wait. We have a wedding reception to attend, after all.

The after party spills out through the Bishop’s townhouse, bubbling like the champagne we raise in honor of the new couple. An elegant, delicious spread has been set out for the small gathering, and a fine selection of wine and whiskey is at the ready. We’re not even a dozen—even after my mom and then Shelby arrive for the reception—but we manage to fill the entire house with our energy. If three’s a party, then this eleven is a damned rager.

I clink my fork against my glass of untouched champagne, commanding the attention of the room as best I can.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving to the center of the room, “I believe that a speech is in order, here. Yeah?”

“Speech! Speech!” Enzo chants tipsily. Shelby gives him a playful shove to stop his tongue as the others gather around me. Bex and Charlie stand hand-in-hand, beaming around at their closest friends and family. Harrison watches from my mother’s side, an excited but pensive look on his face.

“As all of you know, I am doubly honored today to be Bex’s maid of honor and Charlie’s best ma—Woman. We still haven’t really nailed down the language.” I laugh.

“Spoken like a true PR whiz,” Bex winks.

“I am lucky enough to have grown up with these two beautiful people. I’ve known Charlie since about the day I was born, and I’ve known Bex since we were both pretending to care about our freshman year school spirit exercises. Each of them has changed me as a person for the better, and I had the pleasure of watching them meet and fall in love.”

“It’s all thanks to you!” Charlie says, wrapping his arm around Bex’s waist.

“That’s true, you got me the job with Ferrelli,” Bex says.

“I have a feeling you two would have found a way to each other, with or without my help,” I tell them. “You’re so well suited for each other. Like two halves of the same whole. And in a way, that’s how you’ll be from this day. Two parts of the same little family.”

“Maybe not so little for long,” Charlie’s mom says hopefully, “A couple of grand babies would be—”

“I just want you to know how much I love you,” I cut her off gently, “And how happy we all are for your happiness. I know that you’ll be as wonderful friends to each other as you’ve been to me. To Bex and Charlie!”

“To Bex and Charlie!” the guests chorus, sipping their bubbly champagne.

The newlyweds wrap me up in their arms, squeezing tight. When I first found out Bex and Charlie were together, I have to admit that it took me by surprise. But now, I can’t imagine them any other way. I know what it’s like to be in love with your opposite, after all.

A hand-picked playlist starts piping over the Bishops’ sound system, and all of the guests can’t help but start dancing. We take over the living room, cutting as many rugs as we like. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had at a wedding, but I should have known it would be. No fancy venues or expensive add-ons could replace real, true love as the only part of a wedding that matters. Well...true love and the cake, perhaps.

Enzo and I are moving through a big band swing number together, laughing at our sloppy technique, when Harrison lays his hand on my shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” he asks my brother.

“By all means,” Enzo says. That odd recognition I saw pass between my mom and Harrison is there again. What the hell is that?

“You gonna show me how it’s done?” I tease Harrison, ready to keep on swinging.

“Siena, I feel like such a moron,” he replies, “I completely forgot to grab our gift before we left the hotel.”

“It’s OK, babe,” I say, trying to pull him into the dance, “We’ll get it to them tomorrow, no worries.”

“Ah. No, no. They should really have it tonight,” he replies, edging toward the exit, “It’s traditional, after all.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” I insist, “Stay here and dance with me.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” he says, pulling me along with him, “Come with me. We’ll be there and back in a second.”

“I really don’t want to leave, Harrison. It’s their wedding—”

“Please, Siena?” Harrison asks, catching my hands in his. “It’s really important to me.”

His eyes are roiling with excitement, I’m taken aback by their intensity. It dawns on me that whatever reason Harrison has for wanting to duck out has little to do with a forgotten gift. What’s he after? A little mid-reception booty call or something? I don’t think I can resist that, come to think of it.

“OK,” I tell him, “Let’s go, then.”

We slip out into the foyer, not bothering to tell anyone about our departure. It’s far sexier to sneak off, screw, and come back before anyone notices. It reminds me of the old days, back at the start of the F1 season. It’s crazy to think about the lengths we went to, to keep our relationship a secret. As if we thought it was going to be some casual fling.

“Oh!” I exclaim, surprised to find a private car idling on the curb.

“Yeah,” Harrison says, walking me down the steps, “I really can’t stand New York taxis, you know.”

“I didn’t know that about you...” I say, cocking an eyebrow, “When did you call a car?”

“Oh, before,” he says, pulling open the back door for me.

“When you realized you forgot the gift?” I say, with a conspiratorial smile.

“Exactly,” Harrison replies, sliding into the back seat beside me.

I lace my fingers with his, turned on by how eager he was to steal away with me. I’d assumed we’d get back to the hotel for a good quick screw, but I’m not sure if I can wait that long. I think pregnancy must be messing with my hormones something fierce. I just can’t seem to control myself these days.