Page 21 of The Good Billionaire

I REMEMBERED MY WEDDINGday from an entirely different perspective. I’d woken up in my bed alone which I hated even back then because Kennedy wanted to be traditional and not see me until she reached the altar.

All I’d had to do was put on a tux and let a photographer snap some pictures of me. Luke and Tristan had been there, but Grayson was still in school at UT Austin and couldn’t get to Maryland for the weekend.

What fun we had, sitting around my and Kennedy’s cramped Baltimore apartment smoking cigars in our boxers. Before the photographer had arrived, that is.

Before we were all billionaires too.

Awomangetting ready for her wedding felt like a bell had gone off at a bull-riding event.

Hand in hand, Kennedy and I padded into my parents’ suite next door. The entire family loitered in the kitchen picking at a spread of bagels and pastries.

Hair and makeup people arrived along with a Kleinfeld rep who showed up just to put Savannah in her dress. All while Zelda paced in front of the balcony wearing a whistle and used it when all the cats she’d been herding weren’t moving in the right direction.

After the fourth toe-curling screeching sound, Luke stormed in wearing jogging pants and a white tee-shirt, sweat beading on his forehead. “Who the fuck is blowing that whistle?” he yelled.

“Luke! Savannah, I’m sorry.” Aunt Marissa rushed toward her son holding a mimosa. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I gave everyone an entire floor,” Luke said. “All of my villas. But we’re getting calls about a whistle.”

“We’re on a schedule, Mr. Hart. Itisa wedding,” Zelda said with the plastic noise-maker dangling out of her mouth like a cigarette. “What a grump.”

This may have been the exact showdown I had wanted to see, but I didn’t want it happening in front of Savannah.

BeforeIcould break up the potential cage match, Tristan sauntered in, dressed in a tight-fitting sweater and jeans. He calmed Zelda down, even took some items off her to-do list.

With the whistling gone, Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Tristan, I swear, if you’d gone on your cruise this week instead of next week, I would have killed you.”

“What cruise?” Kennedy asked, pulling apart a bagel.

“Just something I do once a year,” Tristan said, blushing.

Luke strutted out of the villa suite, presumably to finish his workout.

Kennedy narrowed her eyes at me. “Are Tristan and Luke planning to give Savannah a cruise for her honeymoon?”

I sawed off a much-needed laugh. “No.” Then quickly dismissed the vision of my prim and proper sister, the kindergarten teacher on a sex cruise.

“Why was that funny?” Kennedy crossed her arms.

“I didn’t laugh.” My pulse raced, not wanting the cruise to come up anymore. I more than likely wasn’t going.

“Yes, you did.”

“You did laugh, honey,” my mom said, steering Savannah to one of the spare bedrooms to get her hair done.

“See?” Kennedy opened her mouth, but the whistle blared.

“Florist. Downstairs. Who’s letting them in?” Zelda barked, holding her phone.

“You’re the wedding planner, why aren’t you doing it?” I asked her.

“I plan. I don’tdo.”

I shook my head. “I’ll go downstairs and let Samantha know.”

“Samantha?” Kennedy asked, standing in front of me. “The blonde walking around the lobby in a short skirt?”

“She’s the event planner and I believe that’s a suit.” I loved how jealous she got so suddenly.

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