A red Mustang GT convertible comes to a fast stop right in front of the restaurant, and Daphne opens the passenger door. She’s a vision in a lacy, white mini dress that shows off her long, tan legs and arms. As she closes the car door, she’s laughing, and her curly hair is messy from the ride, but she looks perfect. Valentina gets out of the driver’s side and rounds the car wearing a short, purple dress and carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. She’s wheeling an overnight bag behind her that brings to mind what we’ll be doing later, after the wedding is over and our guests are gone. I’m the luckiest damn man in the world.
“Wait, wait,” she calls after Daphne, thrusting the bundle of purple flowers into her hands.
Daphne takes it and turns, spotting me. Her whole face lights up, and I’m about to cross the sidewalk to her, when Valentina dives between us.
“Bad luck!” she shouts, throwing her arms up like that will somehow make her bigger.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
All I want is to hold my bride, and I’m about to physically move Valentina out of my way, when Daphne peeks over her friend’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Shaking my head but chuckling, I go inside and take my place beside Mr. Abbott.
“Is she here?” he asks.
“She’s coming.”
Damien nudges me. “It’s not too late. There’s a back door through the kitchen.”
I can just imagine Valentina telling Daphne the same thing. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with her.”
The front doors open then, and Valentina and Daphne stand framed in the lights and greenery that decorate the entrance to the restaurant. She doesn’t look nervous or spooked. She looks as confident as I feel. The two of them make their way to us between the rows of tables, elbows linked. When she reaches me, Valentina releases her friend, and I take her hand instead.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her.
She flushes and looks down at our interlocked fingers. “You clean up nice, too.”
I chuckle, glad that I had the foresight to put on my best suit, and we turn to face the attorney, who, for tonight at least, is playing the part of minister. He clasps his hands behind his back and begins the ceremony.
“Today, we gather here to celebrate the joining of Theodore Latsis and Daphne Jordan, who represent not just two people, but two families, and with their union, represent an end to decades of strife.”
Daphne squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back. The weight of the world is on our shoulders, but now, we share it, and the burden is lighter because of that. Mr. Abbott goes on for a few minutes about marriage, and I pretend to listen, when really, all I can hear are Daphne’s steadying breaths beside me. Finally, he begins the vows. Daphne and I turn to each other and repeat after him. We pledge to be each other’s constant friend and partner, to dedicate our lives to each other from this day forward, to celebrate each other always, and love each other for the rest of our lives.
Then, we exchange rings.
“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you,” I tell her as I slide the golden band onto her finger.
“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and loyalty,” Daphne says, sliding my own ring into place.
Mr. Abbott holds his arms wide and smiles between us. “Do not let the violent delight of your love come to a violent end. Let the flame burn eternally and extinguish all others that came before it. By the power of your love, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Before he even gives me permission, I pull Daphne against me and capture her mouth beneath mine. I’ve longed for this ever since we were interrupted by her cousin the night before. She moans against my mouth and I deepen the kiss, tipping her backward beneath the force of my passion. The applause around us devolves into laughter as Damien and Valentina gang up against us, pulling us apart.
“There will be time for that later,” Valentina promises. “For now, let’s celebrate.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Attorney Abbott is the first to leave our little wedding reception, shaking our hands and handing us all the signed paperwork needed to prove that we are, in fact, joined in marriage. After that, Damien and Valentina see us off in Damien’s Porsche, Valentina promising to give Damien a ride home.
As I navigate the downtown streets, I reach across and grab Daphne’s hand.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“I’ll give you a big honeymoon someday,” I promise her, “but for now, I’ve rented a suite at the Monolith.” Normally booked in advance, the owner is a fellow Oakwood Boy who threw his weight around to get me in on short notice.
The Monolith Hotel is one of the towering downtown buildings with a white stone facade, identifiable by the red and gold awning announcing its name. The doorman opens the door for us, and I’ve pre-arranged everything so we’re able to bypass check-in completely and take the elevator up to the very top floor. Our suite is large and modern, everything done in white and gray and metal, but it isn’t the massive bed that draws Daphne’s attention as we enter, but the floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite wall. She crosses to it in silence, finds a door that opens onto a balcony, and slides it open, stepping outside.
There’s an ice bucket with champagne, so I pop the cork and pour us two glasses before joining her.
“It’s like a sea of lights,” she says, sipping her champagne. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Do you like it?” I ask. “Do you think you could be happy here in the city?”
She turns her sea-blue eyes on me. “Do I have a choice?”
I put my glass on the patio table and grab her waist, dipping my head to look her square in the face. “You will always have a choice with me.” I want her to know that our lives, which have been so planned out and micromanaged before, are completely in her hands now. If she wants to stand and face them, if she wants to run away and live on a beach in Italy—I’m with her.
But we can deal with all that tomorrow. Right now, I want to show her what it means to be mine. For the first time without fear of interruption or retribution, I bring my lips down on hers. She tastes sweet and cool, like the champagne she’s still holding. My hands slide her hair away from her face and cup her cheeks. Pulling away, I look down at her. She’s breathing hard, her lips parted in anticipation.
“I love you, Daphne Jordan. People will think I’m crazy, but as soon as I saw you, I knew you were the one for me.”
She licks her plump lips. “I love you too, Theo. I love you for loving me for me, not for my name.” She kisses my cheek, then the cut over my eye. “I love you for understanding me.” Her lips trail along my jaw to my ear. “For offering me a world of possibilities.”
I’ve spent years following orders and avoiding taking any responsibility for anything that happens, and now, it’s all in my hands. And it’s the love of this amazing woman that makes me feel like I can handle it.
Chapter Seven
Daphne
With a wide, contagious smile, Theo scoops me up bridal style and carries me back into the room, our champagne forgotten. When I feel him pause to close the door, I put my hand on his cheek to stop him.