Page 15 of Beautiful Revenge
“You’re making this worse than it already is, and I’m not sure how that can be.” Janie shuffles in her fitted gown straight to my dress and yanks it from the floor. “If your father were conscious, he’d die a million deaths from what you’ve done today. This is the embarrassment of the century.”
I cross my arms. “Don’t you dare speak about my father.”
Janie shoves the dress at me. “I’ll do what I can to manage the magazine—hell, we’ll let them have the story for free if they leave out the part of the day when you lost your damn mind. Put this on. We’ll make excuses to the guests later. We’ll say you got a touch of the stomach flu.”
I don’t touch the dress she’s forcing on me and regret that I didn’t think to throw it off the balcony when I had the chance. “I am not putting that on. And I’m done with Albert.”
“Stop it! Don’t say that!” Janie cries as her eyes fall shut. She looks like she’s fighting back tears, but she fans her face and gets it together. Unlike me, she’s probably trying to salvage her full face of makeup since she thinks she can talk me into carrying through with this marriage. She lowers her voice even though it’s still shaky. “Please, Harlow. Put the dress on. Everyone is here. Whatever your hesitations are, I’m sure we can work past them in the future. But all this work … the planning, we can’t let it go to waste. Albert will forgive you—I know he will.”
I freeze in my spot and stare at the woman who has been in my life for almost two decades. I cannot count the amount of times Janie Madison has been over the top ridiculous, but this is a new level.
“I’m not marrying Albert—not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Go jump on one of Dad’s yachts and lick your wounds from embarrassment. That might make you feel better. But no one is going to tell me what to do. Got it?”
Her complexion pales, and that’s saying something since she’s pale in the middle of summer—even on a boat in the Mediterranean. “Please, Harlow. I don’t know what happened, but you have to marry him.”
I frown and wonder if she’s been closet-drinking all morning. “This is the last time I’m going to say it. I never want to see Albert again, let alone marry him. I won’t change my mind.”
Devon
Ahigh-pitched cry rings through the atrium. “Mr. Donnelly, wait!”
Even though I don’t have time for this, I jut my arm out to stop the lift doors from closing. I try to keep the bite out of my tone. It’s not Felicity’s fault this day turned to shit. Though, it is her fault she can’t lower her voice when speaking. “What is it? I need to check on the unmarried bride.”
Felicity steps into the lift with me and looks more flustered than she was trying to keep up with me in the gardens. She waits for the doors to shut before the words tumble from her lips. “Well, this is about the bride. Her mother—sorry, stepmother,” she corrects herself, “—demanded to see her. I had to call Ms. Madison to get permission to send up Mrs. Madison. In the process, Ms. Madison—you know the bride who never was—informed me she wasn’t leaving.”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
Felicity nods like a nervous little critter. “She’s not leaving. She said she loves it here and wishes to stay for the time being. I think the exact words she used wereunforeseeable future.”
Felicity might speak two octaves higher than necessary and use twice as many words to express herself, but she’s good at her job. I’m sure I’m not telling her something she doesn’t already know. “We’re booked.”
“Exactly. Booked solid. And since your sister has giftedthe suite out to her friends, we’rereallybooked—not just the normal booked with a couple of extra rooms here and there.”
I glance up at the lift as we approach the top floor. “Thank you for explaining that to her. I’m sure she’ll find somewhere else to nurse the wounds from her lover’s spat.”
“Um, so, well ... that’s what I need to speak to you about. I have a feeling we’re in a pickle.”
The bell rings, and the doors part. I hold them open and turn to her. “What?”
She bites her lip and whispers just as loud as she speaks. “I didn’t tell her we’re plum out of rooms. I didn’t have the chance. She was dealing with her stepmother, not to mention a broken heart. The poor, sweet woman. Why else does a bride leave the love of her life at the altar? I feel so sorry for her. There was no way I could break it to her that we don’t have any open rooms for the next few months. I was hoping…”
I stare at her wondering if I was wrong about her being good at her job. “You were hoping for what? A cancellation?”
“Oh, I know there won’t be a cancellation. When I saw you heading up to see her, I was hoping you could break the news to her.” She motions toward the entrance to the suite behind me. “And since you’re here, there’s no better time, right? Youarechecking in on her and all. That’s what a good bridal assistant would do. I know Marsha would … if she were still here.”
It's official. The next time I see my employees going at it, I vow to look the other way—at least until after a big event.
But right now, I have no choice. “I’ll let Ms. Madison know her time is up tomorrow morning at checkout. Is there any other awkward or uncomfortable business you’d like me to take care of?”
She ignores my sarcasm and exhales on a smile. “No, thank you. That’s all for now.”
“Great,” I bite and do not return her smile. I can’t remember the last time my smile wasn’t fake. I think it was four years ago before my life turned on its ear. Since then, it’s been hell. “Make sure the front desk is managed the rest of the day in case guests check out early.”
And with that, Felicity is back to cheerful and bubbly, dammit. “Will do, Mr. Donnelly. You can count on me.”
For anything other than speaking at a normal volume ... or delivering bad news.
I’m barely off the lift when I hear raised voices coming from inside Harlow Madison’s suite.
