The Billion Dollar Wedding: The Honeymoon Collection Page 5

  No black for Jasmine, aside from her hair, and the bruise she would probably sport on her knee later. “Thanks for helping me. Everyone is in the other room trying to get Monica to fit into her wedding dress.” Every once in a while they heard Eva shout in frustration. Stuff along the lines of, “Didn’t the seamstress just take your final measurements two weeks ago? What the fuck have you been eating? Ramen and mac and cheese every day?” It was especially the sight because the usually tomboyish woman was running around in a flirty dress like Jasmine’s. Every time the Amazonian with spiky hair and glaring makeup clomped through the room she sent people running for cover.

  “It’s my pleasure.” Ethan had come in there to pay his respects to Monica before the wedding. I’m surprised he took today off from work. The man hadn’t had time off since last Sunday night, when Jasmine returned from Miami, weary and in need of a serious bath. “I want to see you before anyone else does anyway.” He brushed something off her open back, sending tingles through her body.

  “Ethan…” Jasmine stifled a giggle. “What are you saying?”

  He looped his arms around her, hands placed on top of her abdomen while mouth nibbled her neck. “I’m saying that I, as your man, should get to see you in this gorgeous dress before anyone else.”

  “You like it, huh?” Jasmine wouldn’t mention the black bra and panty set she wore beneath. I found out the straps are detachable. Perfect for the style of this dress. “You should. You paid for it.”

  “Did I ever get my money’s worth.” He squeezed the breath out of her.

  “All right.” Jasmine had to put an end to his pawing before things got too far. She was sure her boyfriend would love to ravage her in the small changing room for anyone to walk in on, but Jasmine had other things to worry about. “That’s enough. You get yours later.”

  “Later?” Was he seriously put out? Apparently. Ethan was used to getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted. I’m your girlfriend now. Not your paid mistress. “Fine. You think it’s safe to go in there yet?”

  “There are about five women in there trying to get Monica in that dress.”

  “What? That seems strange.”

  Jasmine shrugged. “She didn’t drink hardly anything last weekend, but she was snacking a lot. Probably nerves. Water retention is a bitch. Not that you would know anything about that.”

  “Crisis averted!” someone called from the bridal room. “Don’t bend over and you’ll be fine!”

  “I don’t see how I could possibly bend over!” Monica retorted.

  Jasmine had no idea how Monica struggled to fit in her dress. It was flowy. Not quite an empire dress, but damn close, with fabric flowing free starting from her breasts and all the way down to the ground. She looked like a veritable princess as she floated past brightly lit windows and down the hall, heading toward a different room to have her makeup done. Someone – one of her girls from the Château, Jasmine believed – chased after her with a brush and comb, demanding she slow down so she could finish fixing her hair.

  “Welcome to a woman’s most stressful day,” Jasmine said drolly. “I don’t envy her.”

  Ethan looked askance at her. “Not in the mood for a wedding, are you?”

  All the blood rushed to Jasmine’s face. “What are you saying?”

  “Absolutely nothing. Just giving you a hard time.”

  “Not today of all days, please.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Everything will go fine. Trust me. I saw the wedding planners Monica hired. If something does go wrong, they’ll make sure it looks like it was on purpose.”

  “Jasmine!” someone shouted from down the hall. “Pictures!”

  It had been a long time since Jasmine went to a wedding, and that one was held in a community center with minimal fuss. Nor was she in the bridal party that time. So to have her day micromanaged by a wedding planner named Jenny was one of the most… grueling things in the world. I am doing this for my friend. That’s what Jasmine told herself when Jenny panicked that Jasmine’s sash was slightly off-center before they took the bridal party pictures. She also insisted on fixing Jasmine’s hair. She was more involved with the posing of the picture than the actual photographer, who was mostly concerned with whether or not to include Monica’s veil. They ended up with going without and instead focusing on the circlet of diamonds she wore on her dark head.

  Portraits lasted for an hour. This did not include the pictures that would come later that afternoon during the reception, when Henry and his party would finally be included. For now, Monica was following the staunch tradition of not letting her fiancée see her before the ceremony. That was easy to do at Warren Estate, which had three separate living quarters to keep everyone separated until the ceremony held at a nearby chapel.

  Once the pictures were finished, the bridal party climbed into a stretch limousine to head three miles down the road to the chapel Henry grew up in and asked to be married in. According to Monica, it was his only real request for his wedding, and she was more than delighted to acquiesce even though neither of them were religious. Jasmine understood why Monica was excited when they arrived at the adorable chapel overlooking a hill and lake. Out here in the countryside, it was absolutely picturesque. However, it had little room for a party as big of theirs to prepare in, so it was necessary to dress and style at the mansion before coming here.

  Monica was nevertheless taken into a humble room and had her look touched up. Jasmine slipped out to be choreographed by Jenny, who reminded the bridesmaids what order they were to go down the aisle in. Jasmine rendezvoused at the rear of the chapel with the rest of the party. Every woman but her had a groomsman to walk down with. As the maid of honor, Jasmine was going solo, since Henry’s best man already stood with him at the front of the chapel.

  No pressure, girl. That’s what Jasmine told herself as a bouquet of fresh red roses and sprigs of baby’s breath was shoved into her hands. The flower girl, a child of five, attempted to waddle down the aisle before anyone told her to.

  The chapel was packed. Every pew was filled, and ushers did an exemplary job showing people to their seats. The guestbook was crammed with signatures, most of them Jasmine didn’t recognize as she signed it too. Jenny, with a freakin’ earpiece and mic on her head, in turn ushered Jasmine to the front doors of the chapel as the music began.

  It happened so fast. Jasmine wasn’t even the one getting married, and yet things happened at the speed of light. I’m gonna get motion sickness from this. She waited as everyone cooed over the flower girl stumbling down the aisle in shoes too small for her now. She cast rose and carnation petals all over the white silk carpet, and stopped to give her grandmother a handful of them before continuing on her way. Well, I can’t very well follow that act. Yet Jasmine was due next, since the mothers of the bride and groom declined walking down the aisle.

  “Go!” Jenny jabbed Jasmine in the side, and she was off, trying her best to not trip in her stilettos as she plastered on a smile and shuffled down the aisle.

  Bulb flashes went off in her face. More than one video camera pointed in her direction. Jasmine wasn’t the bride, but she was the first adult walking down the aisle, and every eye was on her. Guests leaned in to mutter things to one another. “She’s pretty, I guess.” “How does she know Monica?” “Isn’t that Ethan Cole’s woman?” “What does he see in her?” Even at a wedding ceremony, people gossiped.

  Jasmine was relieved to see Henry by the time she reached the altar. He stood in a white tux, because he was one of the only men in the county who could pull off a white tux with his lean physique and sandy blond hair. Jasmine squared her shoulders as she gingerly turned around in her heels and stood in her designated space. Jenny would have sighed in relief, but she was busy jabbing Eva in the waist and reprimanding her for not walking fast enough. The man she walked with was one step ahead of her – and he was a full two inches shorter than a Warren woman in heels.

  Jasmine kept her smile on as she watched women in r
ed and men in black walk down the aisle, set to pleasant live music. Six couples followed Jasmine, and then the bride appeared. Everyone stood up to the change in music.

  Monica took the first two steps into the chapel by herself. Ethan rendezvoused with her, holding his arm out for her to take. Most people would find it odd for a woman’s ex-boyfriend to give her away at her wedding, but Monica didn’t have a father around, and Ethan was the same man who gave her away at her collaring ceremony to Henry – which most people did not know about, thank goodness.

  “This is the kinkiest wedding in the world, and hardly anyone realizes it,” said the woman next to Jasmine. She had to agree.

  However Monica had felt over the past few weeks was completely blown away now. She walked with her chin high, her petite stature almost matching Ethan’s more masculine gait as she stayed with his every step down the aisle. This wasn’t a meek woman resigned to some fate. This was a proud woman who was probably experiencing the greatest day of her life so far, if not ever.

  Her dress flowed behind her, pulling a conservative train of delicate lace. Yet it was the bodice that attracted the most attention. Monica went for an off-the-shoulder look, with lacy sleeves that draped from her arms and intricately weaved in and out of her beaded bodice. The veil that caused such a fuss during picture time was nothing more than a sheer thing that sat atop her head, clutching the diamond circlet and disappearing into the length of her dark hair as it bounced with her steps. The most curious thing, however, was the diamond choker around her throat. Jasmine had never seen it before. It was probably purchased for the wedding, but Jasmine did not doubt it had more to do with Monica and Henry’s kinky lifestyle than the nuptials.

  Guests oohed and ahhed. A million pictures were taken. Henry looked so lovesick that Jasmine was going to be sick. By that time her knees started to lock up and after she met Ethan’s eyes when he went to sit in the front pew, she spaced out a majority of the ceremony, concentrating on her impeccable posture and looking pleasant enough. Half of America’s high society would be studying her face tomorrow. She was bound to show up in a few Page 6 pictures, and that frightened the bejeezus out of her. Don’t think about… don’t think about it…

  She missed the part where Henry and Monica were declared husband and wife. Jasmine snapped out of her stupor to the sound of applause and the sight of a tall man bending down to kiss his petite wife. Jasmine’s heart exploded into a million hormonal pieces.

  Meeting Ethan’s eyes again was the wrong thing to do. Tears poured from Jasmine’s eyes, threatening to ruin her makeup. Luckily, everyone else around her was crying too, and she could blend in with the festive crowd.

  ***

  Nothing was sweeter than finally sitting down at a banquet table and kicking off one’s stilettos after a full afternoon of walking around in them. Jasmine heaved a sigh to end her life as she knocked back a glass of champagne and asked Ethan to pour her another.

  Weddings were exhausting business. After the ceremony, they were hauled out for pictures while guests traveled ahead to the reception at Warren Estate. Jasmine thought she could travel as well after having her photos taken yet again, but Jenny informed her that nobody in the bridal party was allowed to even take one step away from the chapel until magazine photographers swept through and caught them in “casual” poses.

  Then they traveled to the estate. Then they joined the welcoming reception, complete with cocktails – but not enough – and snacks. Jasmine was in charge of watching the gift table before going with Monica to the restroom to help her change shoes and fix her hair, since the diamonds kept snagging in it. By then, Monica was the happiest woman in the world, tears of joy flowing down her cheeks as she profusely thanked Jasmine for everything she had done.

  As sweet as that was, Jasmine was more than happy to sit down for dinner. Most of the other guests sat at circular tables, where waiters took their orders and ran into the main kitchen to fetch the meals of the day. Ethan ordered a steak, and Jasmine asked for “anything that will make me not feel like pure death.” She got gourmet cheese ravioli in homemade sauce. It tasted even better with pieces of Ethan’s steak, which she unrepentantly stole.

  The bride and groom sat at a banquet table at the front of the ballroom. The Warrens sat to Henry’s right, while Monica’s small group of family members joined her to her left. There wasn’t enough room for anyone else, so Jasmine and Ethan were relegated to a table of honor not too far away. Suited Jasmine fine. She was tired of being an intricate part of this wedding. She just wanted to drink champagne and get drunk on dinner before the dancing began.

  Halfway through their meal, the customary speeches began. They heard from Henry’s father, a somber man with steel-gray hair and a gaunt expression. Then Monica’s mother, a hawkish woman who sounded more spurned than honored to be there at her daughter’s grand wedding that nobody by the last name of Graham had to pay for.

  Ethan gave a short speech, congratulating the couple and expressing his desire that they have a long and loving marriage. Monica started crying again, Eva shoving a handkerchief across her family’s laps because nobody else bothered to anticipate a bride crying on her wedding day.

  “I’ve never seen her this happy,” Ethan said, as one of Henry’s friends spoke next. “It’s both strange and liberating. For her, that is.”

  Jasmine didn’t need details. She knew what kind of hell Monica had been through before meeting Henry. This was her ultimate happy ending. Good for her. Jasmine needed another drink.

  She was halfway through pouring more champagne for her and her boyfriend when Monica stood up to make a surprise speech.

  “I’d like to thank everyone for coming to my – our – special day,” she said into the mic that was bigger than her grip. “I never thought that such a special day like this would come.” Monica bit back more tears, causing a ripple of adoration through the guests, and making Henry’s hand appear on the small of her back. “My life has been an absolute whirlwind ever since Henry waltzed into it. I can’t imagine calling a greater man my husband.”

  Even Jasmine choked up at that – choked right on a piece of steak. Ethan slapped her back for her before either one of them could pay attention to Monica’s speech again.

  “So many fantastic changes have occurred in my life in the several months Henry and I have been together. I know my future will be nothing but wonderful with him.” She bit her lip, but this time it wasn’t with tears in the back of her throat. Monica looked adoringly down at her husband, puffing herself up for whatever she had to say. “That’s why I want to announce something quite surprising. I’ve been keeping a great secret for a few weeks now… yes, even from you, Henry.”

  The mood in the room changed. Monica’s girls sat on the other side of Jasmine, and they immediately began whispering and opening up their coin purses. One of them, a strawberry blond named Judith, looked quite smug. “You all better start coughing up,” she hissed. “I’m gonna be a rich woman in five minutes.”

  Monica absorbed the tension like the professional she was. Henry took her hand and gazed into her visage. Ethan draped his arm along the back of Jasmine’s chair and leaned in. “This should be good,” he muttered into Jasmine’s ear.

  “While everyone is already gathered here to celebrate our marriage, they might as well be happy about something else.” Monica sucked in her breath, causing a tiny ripple of feedback through the mic. “I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry about this. Henry, I’m pregnant.”

  Gasps took over the room. Judith smacked the woman next to her and demanded payment. Monica’s mother fanned herself while the Warren crew tried to maintain carefully donned propriety – except for Eva, who downed the rest of her champagne after learning she was about to become an aunt.

  Ethan shot hot breath onto Jasmine’s shoulder. “I thought that was the case.”

  Jasmine was still in shock. Monica? Pregnant? She supposed that made sense. No drinking. Clothes not fitting. Crying on the phone and ge
tting randomly angry at Henry, of all people. “She told you?”

  “No, but she told me that more than this wedding was changing her life.”

  “She told me that too.” Jasmine watched as Henry pulled his new wife into his lap and embraced her with a grin on his face. Is it tacky to announce you’re pregnant at your wedding? Jasmine supposed the rich could get away with it. I wonder if she was trying… No, Monica was not the type of woman to purposely get pregnant before marriage. More than likely she honestly was surprised to find out she was pregnant so close to her wedding.

  “This changes a few things.” That was the last Ethan spoke of the matter.

  The reception continued with murmurs, photos, and dancing as the live band and singer finally got that part of the party started. Jasmine left her shoes at the table when Ethan asked her to slow dance, and she wasn’t the only barefooted woman swaying to the music. She was, however, the only woman who wasn’t Monica who danced with a man like Ethan Cole.

  Jasmine could have fallen asleep against his shoulder by their final dance, his arms wrapped around her and his chin resting atop her head. This is the most intimate we’ve been in a long time. Something coiled in Jasmine’s body. It was probably all that champagne.

  “I love you,” Ethan said. His fingers brushed through her hair, a soothing motion she wanted to feel again and again. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”

  “To be fair, I’ve been busy too.” Jasmine clutched his torso and inhaled his strong cologne. “Although I’ve been busy with this silly wedding business. You’ve been busy with important man business.”