“Yes. Somewhere between three to five a week, except for this week. Dean paid enough to clear our schedule so that we could focus entirely on you,” Jenny added.
Of course he did.
“That was sweet of him,” I whispered.
“He loves you,” she answered, sounding all chipper, happy, and kind.
“I know,” I replied, not having the heart to return the sentiment. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything at all.
Her fingers worked down the middle of my back, and when she finally reached the bottom of those cursed buttons I felt like I could draw the first full breath of air into my lungs since the crack of dawn that morning.
“There now. Just a few more,” she murmured.
When she carefully pushed the dress down my hips, I stayed still until I was able to gracefully step out of the expensive gown. Quickly, she hung the dress back up and smoothed out any wrinkles before she turned back to see me already slipping the stretchy red lace up my legs. I pulled it up into place and turned for her. She zipped it up and straightened it a bit to hide the fancy white lingerie set I was wearing beneath.
She unclipped my hair and it cascaded down my back in waves. Part of my up-do was still intact and when I glanced in the mirror, I realized it was really quite beautiful. I’d have to get my hair done like that again.
Not at my next wedding of course. I’d have to do something else.
Jenny touched up my red lipstick and swept a little bit of setting powder on my nose. When she was done, she smiled in appreciation.
“Perfection. Dean won’t know what hit him,” she said.
“No, he definitely won’t,” I whispered. She really had no idea how accurate of a statement that would be.
For a moment, she let me admire myself in the mirror before she beckoned me back to the door.
“The reception is already in full swing. They’re already clamoring for dinner, the cake, and especially for the wedded couple’s first dance,” she beamed.
Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that.
I grinned nervously and she shook her head.
“No need to be nervous. You’ll be perfect. I’ve seen the two of you dance. You’re magic together,” she said confidently.
I really was too good at getting people to believe whatever I wanted them to.
Too fucking good.
I giggled with contrived giddiness as I took the arm she was offering and strode to the door. She guided me down a few lesser used hallways to the back of the reception hall where I planned to make a rather big second entrance into the biggest after-party I’d ever planned.
Once we arrived at the elegantly carved wooden doors, Jenny opened them with a flourish. The dim hue of red and pink lights flittered across the landing, spiraling down the marble staircase and casting an otherworldly glow. I took a step out to see everyone seated at their respective table, the ones Dean and I had worked on for hours together in order not to seat Auntie Laura next to Uncle Joe because they’d had some sordid affair together that pissed off his parents, among numerous other issues he informed me of along the way.
Family drama was really quite amusing.
The crowd applauded as I walked down the stairs, careful not to slip in my red-bottomed shoes. Once I was at ground level, Dean swept in from the right side and curled his arm around my waist before pulling me into a deep kiss.
I pressed my lips against his, playing the part of a happily married bride.
Very soon, I’d turn his world upside down.
He pulled back and smiled down at me, his regal blue eyes dazzling. He was such a good person, so giving and kind. I knew it gave him great pleasure to see me smile so that’s what I did.
I usually didn’t feel guilty for doing my job.
With him though, it was beginning to take its toll.
If I had a choice, I’d stay. But I didn’t. The two of us were never fated to be one and I just had to accept that.
Chapter 2
For once, I allowed myself to really enjoy the wedding reception. There was an open bar and endless glasses of champagne. The cake was especially delicious and when the time came for the tables to be cleared, the excited energy of the crowd rose along with the music.
The first few beats of Passenger’s ‘Let Her Go’ played over the speakers and I drew in a shaky breath.
I don’t know why that song spoke to me. Maybe it was romantic. Maybe it said something about me, but none of it really mattered. Dean offered me his hand and I took it. The two of us strolled onto the dance floor and the sound of our song echoed throughout the room.
The dance had been choreographed. It was something he wanted to do, and I’d jumped at the chance. He’d hired one of the top choreographers in the country for private lessons together, which gave me even more time with him to deepen the whole ploy.
“Only know you love her when you let her go.”
His eyes held mine and in them, I saw how steadfast, strong, and perfect he was. Dean was the kind of man I’d love to call mine, but I knew I would never be allowed such things. A life like mine didn’t allow for love or even the smallest bit of happiness.
My life was work. Every day. Every hour. Every minute.
Within a week, I’d be onto the next mark with a new city, a new name, and a new life, and I’d never get to look into those soulful eyes again. I’d never see him again after this was all over.
I memorized his face. His angular jaw just covered by the lightest stubble that I adored so much. His exotically high cheekbones and the thick
