Page 116 of The Worst Best Man
“Who does this on a Thursday night?” she murmured to her reflection in the mirror.
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Ever since Kilbourn Holdings had released a PR statement announcing that Aiden was dating business student and small business professional Franchesca Baranski, the attention had noticeably ramped up.
Brenda had to screen Frankie’s calls at work, and her email and social media accounts had blown up with interview and friend requests. She’d actually spotted a photographer outside her building twice, but her neighborhood wasn’t exactly friendly to lurkers. One of her neighbors had called the cops, and the problem disappeared.
But none of it had prepared Frankie for the frenzy outside The Lighthouse at Chelsea Piers.
There was a literal red carpet under her feet. And Aiden’s arm was wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to the spectacle of camera flashes and shouted questions.
“Aiden, what’s your connection to Big Apple Literacy?”
“My mother has been a long-time supporter of the cause. And our family is proud to support its educational initiatives,” Aiden answered smoothly.
“Franchesca, who are you wearing?”
She looked down at her dress. “I don’t know. Whoever Aiden picked out for me.”
The crowd of photographers chuckled like she was a stand-up comedian in the middle of a routine.
“Carolina Herrera,” Aiden filled in. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He towed Frankie away from the call line.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Am I supposed to answer them when they ask questions?” Frankie frowned.
“You’re supposed to do whatever you want to. I’m not going to treat you like a puppet and feed you sound-bites.”
“But you’ll tell me if there’s something I shouldn’t say?”
“It’s always safe to avoid the word ‘fuck’ on the red carpet.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so helpful.”
She accepted his arm with a death grip. If she didn’t fall off of these sexy as hell icepicks and take a header into an ice sculpture or billionaire, it would be a damn miracle.
Miraculously, they made it inside unscathed. Aiden helped her straighten her skirt for her. “Ready?”
She looked beyond him to the crowd. At least she wasn’t underdressed.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” she said.
“You’re going to be great. You might even have the smallest bit of fun.”
She didn’t believe a second of his pep talk, but Frankie appreciated it all the same.
“Yeah, you too.”
“And when this is all over, I’ll take you through any drive-thru you want, and we’ll eat in pajamas at home.”
“Deal.”
She recognized Ferris Kilbourn from his photo at Aiden’s. He skimmed in just under six feet tall, and his Irish roots showed in the red hair going silver that ringed his head. He wore a tux and seemed as comfortable in it as if he were wearing sweats. He had his arm around a skeletal platinum blonde who had brushed a little too closely to having too much work done. She was dressed in gold and decorated in diamonds.
“My father and step-mother,” Aiden whispered in her ear as they approached.
“Aren’t they getting a divorce?”
