Page 2 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

Because if I’m not Lacie and James Hendrickson’s perfect, spoiled daughter, who would I be? I’ve never been given the chance to find out, and now, when I become Jeremy’s wife, I’ll be even more stuck with an identity I don’t want.

I don’t want this.

Before I can draw a deep breath to tell Aubrey, a knock sounds on the door.

Aubrey glances back at it. “Yeah?”

I smile at her lack of manners. She’ll always be herself, and at times, all right, often, I envy her for it.

“Are you ready?” a wedding attendant asks as she enters the room. She didn’t inquire, she sang ready, drawling it into four times as many syllables to accompany her entrance into the room. No wonder she couldn’t just step right in. With that massive bundle of fabric in her arms, she almost needed a periscope to see ahead of her, like someone checking out the surface of the ocean while deep down in a submarine. Laden with what looks like miles of white fabric and tulle-like underlayers, she can’t avoid brushing the material against the doorframe.

No. I’m not ready. I don’t think I ever will be. I don’t bother to glance at her. She’s only here to do her job. I wouldn’t get sympathy from her if I was honest. “Yes.”

“What…” Aubrey grimaces as the attendant begins smoothing out the enormous dress. “What is that?”

The attendant giggles. “It’s her gown! Isn’t it just amazing?”

Aubrey can’t lose the grimace. “No. It’s not ah-maz-ing.” She rolls her eyes. “You buy out the linen store or something?” She slowly walks around the monstrosity that I had no part in choosing. My mother did. Or her assistants. Heck, maybe she consulted designers and winged it, trusting their guidance.

I get up and approach the dress. Before I can fully step into it, the attendant gives Aubrey a harsh look. “Linen store? This gown is a masterpiece.”

I send my friend a hard look as the layers are lifted toward my hips. Skirts that feel so heavy, I can’t escape the sensation that they’re holding me—literally—to the floor. Like shackles, representing the fact that once my father walks me down the aisle, I will be bonded to the man I can’t at all picture as my future.

“The ‘masterpiece dress’ didn’t look that big when you sent me the pictures at the fitting,” Aubrey says.

The attendant beams at the dress. “The mother of the bride asked for some alterations.”

“More like supplementations. My gosh, Lauren. Can you even walk with all that?”

“I…” I can’t finish my sentence. Panic sets in so swiftly and severely that I struggle to breathe. Exhaling works. Air slips from my lips with a sigh, but I can’t draw in enough oxygen. No matter how I try to force a calm over myself, it doesn’t work. I simply can’t catch my breath.

“Lauren?” Aubrey steps closer, but the roar of my pulse in my ears drowns out her voice. I blink quickly as my heart thunders. Faster, and faster, and—

“Lauren.” She repeats it firmly, gripping my hand as the attendant finishes zipping up the back. It’s too tight, clawing at me. It’s confining my skin that suddenly tingles with the need to scratch everywhere in a manic need to break out of it. In my reflection, my eyes are wide and the skin beneath my eyebrow twitches in rapid flutters.

“There!” The attendant is oblivious to my panic. She beams at the layers and layers of white like it’s a marvel of her own creation. Inside it all, I’m hit with the stark conviction I cannot do this.

“Laur—”

“I can’t.” I look at Aubrey’s reflection until she snaps her gaze up. I only whispered it, but she caught it.

“What was that?” the attendant asks, still not looking at me as she fusses with this hideous garment.

I mouth, I can’t do this to Aubrey, and she nods once. She licks her lips and eyes the attendant.

“Oh, no…” Aubrey moans and leans over.

“What?” The attendant frowns at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I’m…” My friend deserves an Oscar for her performance. If I didn’t know better, I would think she’s keeling over to puke or die.

“I’m…I need a doctor!”

The attendant glances at me, panic in her eyes now. “I’ll—I’ll go find someone. But please, stay away from her. We cannot have her, uh, getting anything on the dress.”

“Please!” Aubrey lifts her arm as she slants over the chair. “Please, just go find me someone!”

With a look of dismay, the woman turns tail and runs out of the room.

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