“Yes, much better,” she says. “Much… much… better.”
Chapter 52
Countdown: T minus 56 hours and 23 minutes.
At T minus zero, Ian and I will stand in front of hundreds of witnesses and vow to love one another until death. No biggie.
I picked up my dress today, having had the last fitting three days ago, which called for one very minor adjustment. Mariah’s dress was the height of perfection, but Zoe’s needed a bit of taking in since she’d shed ten pounds since her last fitting. Call me unreasonable but I would think that a considerate bridesmaid (not to mention new sister-in-law) would be able to maintain her weight for three teensy, weensy months. Zoe is a definite pain in the ass, no doubt about it. Her mother, however, is not. Faith showed me her gown last week and I have to admit it’s a brilliant choice—for her coloring, age, figure, and style. Faith and I will definitely get along for we are alike in so many ways—but not too many ways to make it creepy and weird for Ian.
Anyway, I haven’t yet seen my mom’s gown but she assures me I’ll love it. I’m comfortable she’s right since she generally displays impeccable taste. As the bride, I got to select Mariah’s gown and though it presented an almost irresistible opportunity to exact revenge for years’ worth of abuses by putting her in a horribly garish contraption of a frock, in the end I couldn’t do it. I selected a drop-dead gorgeous aubergine silk strapless—and quite short—cocktail dress. Zoe’s is just as short but on a bias cut with cap sleeves. Why should my girls hide their killer gams? Those legs don’t come cheap or easy and they need to show them off to find their own husbands, damn it. I’m still holding out for Mason for Mariah. Hope springs eternal.
We compiled the guest list as soon as we returned from New York and Daniel’s wedding. My mother sent me a list of her guests and Faith provided me with hers. When we put the three lists together and subtracted the few duplicates, there were still over four hundred names. And a few of them were women who had a history with my darling husband-to-be. Those names had to be weeded out.
The moment had arrived for us to have the long-postponed chat about Diana Benson and Kaylie Ayres.
We had spoken about it already, of course, that night when we got home. The entire car ride back to Ian’s place was silent and tense but I was not going to go to sleep stewing over it. When the front door to his home closed behind us, I went on the offensive.
“So what was that little trap all about? Did you mother do it intentionally?”
His eyes blazed. “Of course not! Why would she? My mother likes you very much, Ella.”
“You’re not going to stand there and deny you had a relationship with both of those women who were there tonight. Are you?”
Rolling his eyes, he exhaled through his nose loudly. “No, I’m not going to deny it. Kaylie was a fling when I was a kid, for God’s sake. I just wanted to get laid and I wasn’t too choosy. I never took her seriously and I thought she was doing the same. My mistake.”
“And the cougar?”
He smirked. “Funny you should call her that—”
“That’s what she is,” I interrupt. “She’s got to have a good ten years or more on you. She was stealing from the cradle.”
“Yes, she is actually fifteen years older than I. When I met her, I had no idea she was married to my father’s partner. I just saw a sexy, older woman and I took her up on her offer. The shit of it was she knew damn well who I was and of her relation to my family.”
“Were you not offended by the age difference?”
He shrugged. “I asked her if it bothered her after we’d been seeing each other for a while…”
“Bothered her?” I shook my head at his cluelessness.
“It didn’t bother me.”
“And?”
“Do you really want to know what she said? I warn you it’s obnoxious.”
I sneered. “I don’t think I can dislike her more than I already do.”
“She said, and I quote, ‘Old enough to pee, old enough for me.’”
“Okay, I was wrong. It was possible to hate her more and I did now. What a disgusting slut.”
“Ella,” he grabbed my arms, “let’s not waste another second talking about either of them. They’re both old news. Forget it.”
I pursed my lips stubbornly, wanting to cling a little while longer to my self-righteousness.
“Look me in the eyes, Ella. What do you see?”
I blew out my breath loudly in contempt, vibrating my lips in the process. “A very handsome man who did not develop his discriminating taste until very recently.”