The elevator stops and we exit, heading down the hallway to our adjoining rooms.
“Let’s nap and then go to that little bistro down by the spa for an early dinner. Want to?” I ask.
Kari doesn’t respond. She’s engrossed in her phone, a huge smile on her face, typing away.
“Kari?”
“Oh,” she says, her voice an octave too high. “What?”
“I said . . .” I stop at my hotel room door. There is a pink enveloped taped to it. I remove it slowly, feeling Kari’s gaze on me from behind.
A ball of anxiety twists tightly in my stomach as I open it. I pull out the card. My cheeks heat immediately at the one word staring back at me: TODAY
“Kari?” I whip my head to the side. Kari’s watching me, all of the cards in her hand. Her smile is even wider now, if that’s possible, and her cheeks are pink, too. “What’s going on?”
She flips over one card at a time and then points at my hand at the end.
I WANT TO MARRY YOU TODAY.
“He wants to marry me today?” I want to think this is a joke, some silly little thing Cane is doing for hurting my feelings a couple of nights ago. But the look on Kari’s face, coupled with the little blossom in my belly, makes me think it’s not that at all. “Is this for real?”
“Open the door.” Her voice is quiet, like she’s trying not to wake a baby.
I hold the flowers in my hand and fidget in my pocket for the room key. I swipe the card through the slot too quickly and it denies me entrance. Grimacing, I try again. It buzzes and I push open the door.
I take a few steps in, Kari behind me, and stop dead in my tracks.
“Oh my God,” I say, my hand flying to my mouth. Tears blur my eyes before I even know what’s happening.
“No crying yet!” Kari sniffles beside me. “You can’t ruin your makeup yet!”
I fix my gaze on the wedding gown hanging off a garment hanger in the living room. It’s the same gown, the same beautiful lace piece, I saw in the magazine on the way to Vegas.
“How did you? What does this mean? How did—”
“Stop, Jada,” Kari giggles, physically turning me to face her. “This was all Cane.” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, not all Cane because God knows that man would’ve been screwed without Max and I. But this idea was all him.”
“Is he really marrying me tonight?” I choke out. I’m trying desperately not to start bawling, not to break down. My legs feel weak and I clumsily place the flowers on a table so I don’t drop them.
“No. You are marrying him tonight, sister.”
“Oh my God.”
She pulls me into a hug and I can’t fight the few tears that escape. “How did you arrange all this?”
“The night he came in with the plane tickets? Well, when you went to the bathroom, he told us what he wanted to do. So we all sort of pitched in and got it done.”
“Oh, Kari. Thank you.” I grab one of Cane’s shirts off the sofa and try to dry my face. “I don’t know what to say!”
“You’ll be saying yes in a couple of hours. Right now, we need to make sure you’re ready. I have an entire suitcase in the closet of stuff for the wedding.” She shakes with excitement. “For your wedding! Ah!”
“I can’t believe this. I’m marrying him tonight!”
“You so are! Now let’s get you ready for your wedding day!”
CANE
I button my shirt, my hands shaking as I work my way from the bottom to the top.
I hope this was the right thing to do. I hope she isn’t upset that I basically just planned this fucking day for her. I hope she’s not pissed because she didn’t get to do her hair the right way, knowing what was going to happen . . . Maybe I should’ve told her. Maybe I should’ve asked her to help . . .
I leave the top button unfastened and look around for a bottle of water. I know I had one just a second ago.
“Max? Where’s my water?”
“In the refrigerator.”
“Why in the hell is it in there?”
“To keep it cold.” He comes around the corner and looks at me like I might jump out the window. “Relax, Alexander.”
“Stop fucking telling me to relax.”
“Okay. Chill out.”
I roll my eyes but let his comment go. “I keep thinking this was the wrong way to do this. Did I just fuck this up? Tell me the truth.”
He laughs loudly and tosses me a water. “No, you didn’t just fuck this up. This was a very you way to do this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you do what you want, when you want, and fuck what everyone else says.”
“You make it sound like I’m an asshole.” I take a swig and watch him over the bottle.
“Go figure.”
“Fuck you.”
We both laugh, a bit of stress leaving my body. “Have you seen my cuff links?”
“Yes.”
“Can you leave anything fucking be? For fuck sakes, Max, I just sat them down!”
“Can you put anything away?”
“Uh, no. This is a hotel. Nothing has a place.”
“For the record,” he says, picking up a towel I had used earlier after my shower, “I didn’t move them.”