After a restless night of analyzing the conversation with Mr. Gorgeous, I woke up in a more rational mindset. San Francisco brought out a side of me I never knew existed, a daring side that actually believed I missed out on a one-night stand with some random hot guy.
It was never even close to that. I was thinking clearly now and still slightly annoyed I was headed to a wedding with strangers as a thank you for my dad, who wasn’t feeling well enough to make the trip.
So many things associated with this trip were going through my mind. Number one, Dad was going back to his doctor when I got home. Being this tired all of the time couldn’t be a good sign for the sixty-five-year-old heartbreaker, and sneaking a fast-food breakfast with his classic car buddies every chance he got lately could be another issue affecting his health. He wasn’t a healthy eater, no matter how hard I tried, and my so-called friends bringing up Mom losing her battle with cancer had me thinking about the fact that I wasn’t going to lose my dad too. The fact that I was here without him was a good enough reason for me to force him to see a doctor for an overdue check-up. The stubborn man owed me, and now I knew how to make him pay up.
Number two, I thought it was funny how I met up with friends and ended up leaving early after not being able to find them—and after checking my phone this morning, there was still no word from any of them.
Ping.
I looked at my phone that displayed Liz’s name as if I’d summoned the text.
“A million hours later,” I said, putting down my mascara and opening the message.
Liz: Hey. I couldn’t find you last night. I’m so sorry we ditched you. I was so wasted and woke up in bed with a stranger! Did you see who I was with? Plz god, tell me WTF I did last night.
I looked at the phone and covered my smile. Maybe I had been out of the real world for too long. Now, I go out of town for a random wedding, and it is turning into the Twilight Zone.
Ash: Hey. No, I couldn’t find you guys after you hit the dance floor. Are you okay?
Liz: I need to get tested. Fuck. I was so messed up last night.
I ran my fingernail over my bottom teeth. How the hell was I supposed to respond to this? I felt horrible for her, but if I was honest, my brain was all twisted up after meeting the same attractive guy twice in a day and then him hinting at me to get my ass into the same position as Liz. I wasn’t going to dare judge her.
Ash: You’ll be fine. Get tested, though. Did the others see you go off with him? Do you think someone put something in your drink?
Liz: No. This was all on me. Everyone said that I was so shit-faced that I just grabbed some guy off the dance floor and told everyone I was going to fuck him. I feel like such an idiot. He’s in the shower. I think I’m going to get out of here.
What the fuck am I supposed to say? They took off on the dance floor, and after my small talk with Mr. Gorgeous—Mr. G—I couldn’t find them to say I was leaving. What a fucking weird night, and now this text?
Ash: Sorry, I couldn’t find you guys so I just took off. I have the wedding to go to today. Keep me updated if you can.
Liz: Sorry for ditching out on you. It was nice catching up. I’ll get through this. Take it easy, Ashley.
Ash: You too. Thanks for the invite out. I hope everything works itself out.
Liz: Well, it’s not the first time I slept with a random guy. It just sucks waking up hungover and not knowing how it all went down. See ya.
I didn’t have time for this. I was fake-texting a friend about her shitty morning hangover and guilt from screwing a guy she couldn’t remember. This wasn’t my game. I was trying to put that entire weird day behind me and move into this one.
I was determined to show up at this wedding and do my best to show my distant cousins—the Johnsons—the appreciation my dad and I had for their help when my mom was sick. I had no idea of the relationship my parents had with these people. Still, I was going to put my best foot forward and enjoy them celebrating the marriage of a cousin I used to play Barbie with when I was three.
I left my phone in the vanity area on the charger, music still playing, and danced my way over to my closet. I pulled out the short slip dress I got for the wedding. It was more costly than the heels, but after slipping it on I felt refreshed and beautiful.
I ran my hand over my stomach, thankful I wasn’t bloated, and the dress hugged my frame perfectly. The burgundy color held a soft shimmer under the light of my hotel room and made my skin look like I’d just laid out and enjoyed the sun’s rays.
Nice one, Clay! I internally thanked my best guy friend who had fashion down to a science. He and his boyfriend, Joe, were the best guys I knew. Joe wouldn’t let me head up to San Francisco unless I received his favorable touch to my hair. Thank God for that, too—the soft red highlights and layers he added to my chestnut hair were perfect.
I covered my chest when my Uber pulled up to the same hotel I was just at the previous night. What the fuck? I laughed at the fact that I was probably going to be on that rooftop again for the reception. It made sense, though. This was the hot spot for the wealthy people, and the Johnsons were definitely that.
After tipping the driver, I stepped out. I instinctively covered the deep V in the front of the dress after seeing a few guys taking notice of my cleavage. I walked through the hotel entrance and followed the crowd through the vast and luxurious hotel lobby. The intoxicating fragrances of lilies alerted me to the massively decorated and immaculately designed wedding ballroom.
God-dang! This had the touch of an artist to create an atmosphere of love and make a single fool like myself wish I were on the arm of my one true love to enjoy such splendor. I loved every ounce of this décor. It was more than décor; it was art. It was all fashioned with candles, flowers arched along the walls, along with some diamond-like vases holding greenery that glistened under lights placed above them. It was flawless, and a smile spread across my face; I was feeling the serenity of true love wrapping itself around me.
“Third time is a charm.”
A familiar voice snapped me out of my daze as I stood at the entrance, waiting to be ushered to my seat. Holy fuck! Am I still asleep and dreaming this man into being at the wedding with me?
I looked at Mr. Gorgeous, sucked in a breath, and placed my hand in his arm when he reached out to me. He had been transformed into a model from a wedding magazine. The silver vest under his black tuxedo and his smile completed the atmosphere of intoxicating love this place was exuding.
He leaned into me. “You don’t have to say anything. I was quite speechless after noticing you in the doorway. You look…”
He paused, and the sexiest smile lit his ocean-blue eyes. “Yeah,” I swallowed hard. “What are the odds we meet here?” I laughed.
“Perhaps it’s fate,” he said, standing tall and resuming his walk down the aisle where the ushers were seating guests. “Maybe you and I will find out later.”
I smiled at him, lost in his beautiful face, but resuming my walk, or he’d be pulling me from falling on my face in these heels. “Um, I’m with the bride’s guests,” I informed him when he led me to a seat to the right.
“That’s all fine and good,” he answered. “However, I will have the best view of you during the wedding if you are seated with the groom’s guests.”
“Nice one,” I flirted back. It had to be the wedding flowers making me drunk on happiness. “I’m with the bride.”
“I disagree,” he said with a smile. “You’re officially with me, and now that makes you a part of the groom’s family.”
“Who the hell are you?” I whispered with a laugh.
He glanced around with that same devilish grin he left me with last night. “The man you’re desperately grateful you ran into again. Now, Miss Annie.” He arched a knowing brow at me. “You are causing a scene, and this is the bride’s day. I’ll kindly ask you again to please be seated in this row, four chairs in.”
I felt some bizarre sense of familiarity with this handsome guy. His sexy smooth voice and those eyes that spoke to my soul somehow. What in the hell did I do to capture his attention? How in the world am I meeting him randomly for the third time? Good God, stuff like this never happened, and it sure as heck didn’t happen to me.
“Fine,” I said, my heart hammering in my chest, now caught in his seductive gaze. “You can explain your screw up to the bride later,” I said, trying to hold my own against him.
“She’ll never know.” He winked as I walked to the seat that he’d ushered me to. “I look forward to seeing you at the reception,” he said and then turned to resume his wedding duties along with the men dressed in matching million-dollar wedding tuxedos.
How wealthy was this family? I spotted Mr. Johnson. That’s all I knew him as—Mr. Johnson, the father of the bride. Was I on some kind of strange high from seeing Mr. G again? Yes. Absolutely, and I couldn’t wait for this to be over to meet him on the dance floor. I was drawn to the guy. It could just be the fact that it was his superficial fucking hot looks and the fact that he brought my female parts back to life—but I also had my own duties to attend to with this wedding.
I had to somehow weasel my way through all of these fashionable people to find Mr. Johnson and sincerely hope he gave half a damn I was even here. I glanced around at the romantic atmosphere—Clay and Joe would’ve died just seeing this place. This was beyond even my artistic mind’s dream. I took notice of the ballroom, filling fast with guests as they quickly took their seats. I leaned over and tried my best to conceal my phone to text Clay.
Ash: This place looks like I’m at some royal ceremony. I love you for helping me with my outfit.
Clay: I told you. Now, own it like the gorgeous babe you are. Xoxo! We want pics and details when you get home, girl.
I could feel Clay’s smile through his message. I owed him and Joe dinner for this. If it were up to me, I would’ve been hiding in a corner, wearing some cotton casual dress, but my guys weren’t having any of that once they learned I was coming to the Fairmont for the wedding.
The music changed, and I relaxed confidently into my seat and prepared to watch the ceremony begin. The groom and his groomsmen were the first to enter from a front side door and stand on a stage of flowers and sparkles.
There he was, outshining everyone on stage…the man without a name who seemed to fall out of a dream and play into the real-life situation I was forced to go through alone. He stood taller than the rest, and his eyes went directly to mine. What the hell did he think about all of this? I was still stuck on how I grabbed his attention after doing the most annoying thing that could happen to anyone—spilling an ice-cold drink on him.
His eyes left mine, and an odd expression fell over his face when he looked to the back of the room. Then a challenging smile fell on his lips, prompting me to turn back and see the bitchy chick who was with him at the coffee shop. The one he said owed him. Her blonde hair was pulled up elaborately in a fashionable bun, and her eyes were on Mr. G. Her cheeks flushed red, her green eyes sparkling along with her silver gown. She seemed as captivated by him as I was.
Who wouldn’t be? Who’d ever heard of a groomsman stealing the beauty from the bride? I glanced around and smiled at the realization that all the young women my age had eyes continually drifting to the Greek god who was standing, sharply dressed in a tuxedo.
I sucked in a breath of excited nerves while the bridal march started, and we all stood to turn to acknowledge the bride.
Damn it, I was always too short, and I wasn’t going to catch a hint of my cousin walking down the aisle. I turned to look over my shoulder…obviously more interested in my dream guy. My breath caught when I noticed his smile and eyes on me, not the back of the room where my cousin was heading down the aisle.
He bit back a smile, my heart trying to jump out of my chest and up to where he stood regally and sexy as hell. I was some crazed fool who was captivated by this mystery man, and now I needed to stop gawking at him. I was going to figure out who he was exactly, and I was going to follow through with whatever happened. Third time meeting him? It was definitely a charm.
