Page 59 of Resist

CHAPTER 20

Cora

I should have thoughtthis through a little more before agreeing to this hare-brained scheme.

I smooth down the front of my ivory dress for what feels like the three hundredth time since I slid the silky fabric onto my body.

Staring at myself in a mirror feels so cliché, but I can’t help it. I look like myself, but I also don’t.

For the past five days certain members of the Blackwell Publishing board have been somewhat intrusive into my love life and upcoming nuptials.

Wednesday night, my soon-to-be husband and I went for dinner with Michael and his wife. We spent two hours parrying question after question about our relationship, how and where we met, how long we’ve been together, how Sterling got a job in my company and whether any indiscretions took place in his hiring process.

It was worse than being interrogated by counsel.

I know this because Thursday morning I had a meeting with counsel, we met with HR, signed the paperwork toinsulate the firm from any blow-back from our “torrid affair” as Michael described it.

The bastard even went back through the candidates who applied for Sterling’s job to make sure there was no favoritism shown in his direction—despite the fact we didn’t even know each other when he applied for the job, not that Michael knows that of course but he was definitely making a point.

Thursday afternoon we got the all clear, and Dad’s cronies on the board started to come around from “How the fuck did this happen?” “Who is this man?” “Holy shit, she’s getting married!” and “She’s actually keeping the firm,” to “Are we getting an invitation to the wedding?”

Bastards.

Monday morning, I had planned for us to have a small, intimate courthouse affair. Me, Sterling, my girls, probably Thor and Jagger. Considering until yesterday I’d never met Sterling’s family, and the fact that it’s a god-awful lie to everyone in our fucking lives, keeping it small felt like the right thing to do.

But as the week passed, our wedding plans grew.

And here we are. Sunday morning ready to walk down the aisle.

It’s not Sterling’s local church like he wanted, but we’re at the barn at Dunvilla. I’m wearing an ivory, lace, off-the-shoulder mermaid shaped wedding gown.

How did I get here?

Tears well in my eyes, and Foxy rushes with a box of Kleenex across the small room we’ve been assigned to get ready in.

I don’t cry. Until Dad died, I think the last time I cried was when Mom died.

And yet, the urge to curl into a ball and sob right now hits like a dodgeball to the chest.

Fuck.

“Want to talk about it?” Foxy dabs a tissue on my face, collecting my tears and careful not to smear any of my make-up.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling... whatever this is.” I press a hand to my chest.

Maddie joins the circle. “You recently lost your Dad, your mom’s not here, and you’re about to marry a man you barely know to save your business.”

Phoenix’s mouth falls open. “Don’t hold back, Madz. Tell us how you’re really feeling.”

Maddie shrugs. “It’s true, though. She has every reason to cry her eyes out. I don’t blame her for a second. But you know our Coco, she’s convincing herself she has nothing to be upset about, when in fact, the opposite is true.”

There’s a knock on the door and Thor’s head appears around the wood paneling. “You ready?” He speaks before his eyes land on me, then his jaw drops as well. “Fucking hell, Cora, you look...” He gestures at me, and heat rises to my chest.

“Don’t.” I flap my hands over my breasts. “You’ll make me all blotchy.”

He grins. “Don’t care, you’d still look fucking incredible. Gimme a sec.” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “I need to prepare Sterling or he’ll collapse at the end of the fucking aisle when you appear.”

He winks at me. “You wanna back out? There’s still time. You can escape out the back door, shuffle under the hedge into the parking lot, and I can give Jagger the friendly shove he needs to put a fucking ring on it already.

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