“Yeah, but just because he works with them doesn’t mean he has to invite all of them.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that this wedding has to be fucking perfect, okay? I’m the kind of girl who won’t have a big wedding because I truly don’t give a fuck about most people, or about pleasing them, for that matter, but for other people, I love doing shit like this. Besides, you don’t need the stress of it on top of college work.” I smiled as she walked across my bedroom and capped my shoulders. “It won’t be too big. It’ll be chill and a night to remember. I promise, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Fine,” I laughed. ”But no crazy stuff, like flame throwers and animals and performers. Simplicity is best.”
“Deal!” She snatched me toward her, pulling me in for a hug. “I’m telling you. You won’t regret it. I’ll make it the best day ever!”
I was sure she would. We went downstairs to the den, where the sixty-inch TV was already primed for Netflix. Lora picked a movie that had Noah Centenio, her latest boy-crush, and then she pulled her phone out, going straight to Pinterest to show me some ideas she’d saved for us to discuss.
I never took Lora for the type to get excited about a wedding, but she was. She showed me dresses that she thought would look good on my frame and even color schemes and backdrops she assumed I would like. With everything I’d been shown, I had no doubt Lora was going to make this wedding epic. She was persistent and had very good fashion sense, but I didn’t know how Cane would feel about her taking over every detail.
He’d told me he wasn’t interested in a big wedding either. He wanted it to be quiet and private, with only people he really cared about there. Everyone he cared about was either under his roof or back in Georgia, but even I knew he was going to have to invite some of the people from work to his wedding, just to keep up appearances.
Still, the fact that we were getting married topped all of those worries. I was going to be a wife—and not just any wife. His wife.
Chapter 2
KANDY
My phone buzzed early the next morning, and I groaned, reaching blindly for the nightstand.
When I felt it, I snatched it up, rolling over to answer it. “Hello?”
“Kandy?” Cane said. “You still sleeping?”
“Mm-hmm. Why?” I croaked. Ugh, I needed water.
“It’s noon,” he said, laughing a little. “You’re usually awake by now.”
“What?” I sat up, peering around the room.
“What did you do last night? Get drunk with Lora?” he joked.
“No, I didn’t do anything. We watched a movie, and I went to bed early.” I smelled something cooking and twisted my legs, dangling them over the edge of the bed. “Ugh—oh my God! What is that smell?” I covered my nose, pushing to a stand. “It smells like someone vomited all over the house.”
“How is that possible? It’s cleaning day,” Cane said. “The housekeeper should have been there and done by now.”
“I don’t know, but it smells awful.”
He laughed. “So maybe you did party last night. Sure there isn’t vomit on that expensive bed of ours?”
I looked back, pushing a hand through my hair. “No,” I moaned.
“Well, I’m about to head to the airport to catch my flight home. Just wanted to let you know in case you tried to get in touch. Mama told me she’s making some kind of pasta tonight. I’ll bring some wine with me.”
“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”
“Love you, party girl.”
I laughed. “I love you too. See you soon.”
I sat on the bed and looked out of the window, covering my nose again. Why did it smell so bad in here? I couldn’t remember the house ever smelling this way. Someone knocked on the door, and I went to answer it.
“Hey,” Lora greeted when I opened it. “You finally awake, sleepyhead? I came up earlier to see if you wanted breakfast, but you were still sleeping.”
“Ugh, yeah, I’m up.” I sighed, clutching the doorknob. My arm slipped, and I stumbled a bit, but she caught me, steadying me by the arm.
“Whoa, Kandy. You feeling okay?” Lora asked, worry creasing at her forehead. “You don’t look too good.”
“Does something smell weird to you? D-did you throw up recently?” I tried to hold my breath.
She frowned. “What? No. What are you talking about?”
I heaved, and she gasped, holding my upper arms.
“Oh, God.” I cupped my mouth, snatching away from her and rushing to my bathroom.
“Kandy?” she called after me, concern lacing in her voice, but I could hardly hear her over my own gagging. I dropped to my knees and clutched the porcelain of the toilet, letting out whatever was barely in my stomach.