Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“You ready?”
I jumped as Hale appeared. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.” I quickly walked away from the food table, and while I didn’t eat the fucking cookie, I mentally debased myself for the next two minutes as if I had.
By the time I was sitting inside Hale’s Rolls Royce, I was disgusted with my imperfect body and repulsed by the ongoing mind-fuck the fashion industry and diet culture put me through.
“You hungry?”
“I’m fucking starving!” I all but sobbed.
Hale gave me a concerned glance, then pulled into the parking lot of a pancake house. “Let’s get you fed.”
Over the next hour, I devoured a stack of buttery buttermilk pancakes loaded with chocolate chips, a side of bacon, and two scrambled eggs.
“Better?” Hale asked when I finally pushed my plate away.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Rayne. I like your body exactly the way it is. I have no interest in fucking a bag of bones, and I don’t feel like navigating hunger mood swings. I’ve lived that life before and I’m much happier with the way things are now.”
Hale had always been intuitive, but I truly thought I’d been hiding my inner debate with food well. “How did you know…?”
“I can tell when you’re denying yourself. One of my favorite things about you is that you’re not afraid to indulge in life’s little pleasures. So you can drop any notions about losing weight or cutting calories. I know what your body looks like and I happen to find it hot as hell. Got it?”
My lips pressed in a tight smile and I nodded. “Got it.”
There was very few things in this world that gave me more pleasure than delicious food, but Hale was one of them. In terms of love, he would always take the cake.
Paging, Fairy Godmother…
CLEAN UP ON AISLE FIVE
Some people had the eye and some did not. As I stared out over the grey haze of New York City, civilization four hundred feet below, I wondered how this vacant, barren, concrete space was ever going to transform into the warm, romantic wedding space of Hale’s dreams. I clearly didn’t have the eye.
“It’s perfect,” Hale said. “Great work, Quinn.”
The wedding planner smiled, but who wouldn’t under such praise? “I was thinking we could section this area off for catering. There are open plumbing hookups in the wall…”
My attention drifted as they walked off discussing various hookups and logistics. This place was eff-ing huge. Hale could not possibly know this many people.
Back in Oregon, when couples got married, they typically rented out the fire hall, and even then a partition wall sectioned half the space off. This floor was roughly the size of a football field and Hale and Quinn were worried about making everything fit.
I pressed my forehead to the cold glass and stared down at the yellow cabs and people scurrying about like little ants. It sure looked cold down there. It wasn’t much warmer up here and sometimes the wind would blow against the glass hard enough to stir unease in the pit of my stomach.
New York looked nothing like the version Hollywood depicted. I truly wondered why Hale was so set on getting married here.
After our meeting, the wedding planner left, and Hale took me to a private restaurant in Madison Square Park to eat. I really thought coming here would flick on some internal bride switch inside me, but I only felt more intimidated after seeing the space.
Quinn had made a few comments about my mood board being the inspiration for the reception—the mood board I had yet to create because my mood hovered around terrified every time I thought about the ever-growing spectacle of a show our wedding was becoming.
Did it really matter if I picked a pillow? Who would notice such a minor accent amongst the oceans of cold, grey unfinished floor, sprawling views of the endless horizon, or the sea of strangers, and let us not forget the rivers of bride tears shed in secret?
I was just about to tell Hale how I felt when an ear-piercing squeak broke the polite dinner chatter and I was tackled by a hundred pounds of fur-wrapped Cartier.
Startled and thrilled to see Hale’s sister, Seraphina, I laughed in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you honestly think I would let you two come to the city and leave without seeing me? When Hale told me you were visiting I insisted we have dinner.”
The white-gloved wait staff immediately set a third place-setting and took Phina’s coat and gloves.
“So, tell me all about the location. Did you love it?”
Hale looked at me because I was the bride and this apparently was my department.
“It’s big.”
“Of course. How’s the view? April in New York is so pretty. The park’s the most vivid shade of green and all the cherry blossoms are in bloom. You’ll have the prettiest sunset, just as guests are finishing cocktail hour and sitting down for dinner. You haven’t truly seen New York until you’ve seen it under a pink sky.”