Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Chapter 34
Kaylee
I can't recall a single other time in my life when I drank as much as I did last night.
I think we killed four bottles of wine between Morgan and me, and waking up this morning only to do all the work we shirked last night has left me utterly exhausted.
Even after a late afternoon nap and a shower, I still don't feel like even going downstairs to the party.
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror, feeling like a fool wearing the thrifted wedding dress.
I got it as a joke and had fully planned on ripping it up and covering it in fake blood, but I never got around to it. I had no way of anticipating what my week leading up to the party would be like. If someone told me exactly what had happened was what I was facing, I never would've believed them.
It all feels so unreal, and staring down at my empty left hand doesn't change it.
I took the ring that Dima handed to Ellis to put on my finger off the second we got into the vehicle to drive away from the warehouse.
He mentioned this dress being in my closet and asked if it was bad luck to wear a wedding dress when you weren't getting married, but I felt the same when I had that ring on.
I've never had any intentions of getting married. It's not something I let myself think about often, but it also didn't feel right wearing even a simple gold band when the vows we spoke were lies.
I don't know why I'm missing it right now or why I'm left wondering why he kept his on rather than putting it in the console of the SUV the same way I did that day.
I shake my head, reminding myself that I can't read anything into how he acted at any point during my stay with him because none of it matters.
If he wanted me to stay, he could have easily asked, but he simply kissed my forehead and let me walk away from him.
I swallow down the lump threatening to clog my throat and grab the princess crown from my overnight bag.
I frown down at the cheap plastic thing, noticing that one of the combs used to keep it in my hair is broken.
"Seems fitting," I mutter, throwing the thing back into the open bag.
Knowing I can't let Morgan down when all I really want to do is pull this stupid dress off and crawl back into bed, I leave the room, the thump of the music from the party already drifting up the stairs.
I had worried that we wouldn't be doing her vision for the party justice, but with the lighting lowered and the fog machines working, it looks amazing.
She has somehow managed to combine chic and gory to make for a scene that is Hollywood-worthy, and I feel an ounce of pride swell in my chest for being able to bring this to life with her.
I wave off a waiter who steps in front of me at the bottom of the stairs with a tray of champagne glasses, the thought of taking a sip of alcohol after the night I had making my stomach turn.
He dips his head, looking back at me through the eyeholes of a Phantom of the Opera mask. All of the waitstaff are dressed the same, helping distinguish them from other partygoers. They're in black slacks, white button-down shirts, and black vests with masks. I watch as more than a dozen flutter in and around the party guests, passing out hors d'oeuvres and drinks.
The two men manning the bar in the corner of the massive room are busy filling drink orders, and it seems like the entire thing is going to be a big hit.
It's not hard to find Morgan. She's in a sleek dress she had custom-made to make her look exactly like Cruella de Vil, and I feel a little jealous of the team of people she had to help her get ready. I did the best I could with my hair and makeup, but I'm a high-ponytail kind of girl, and curls around my face, lipstick, and eyeliner are about as good as it gets for me.
She has also hired someone to follow her through the room with a fucking spotlight of all things, her way of making sure everyone knows exactly where she is at all times. I can't imagine wanting to be the center of attention all the time. Having people watch me so closely makes my skin crawl, but more power to her.
She's loving the shit out of the focus others have on her.
I smile at whoever is walking around in one of those inflated dinosaur costumes and know that it will chap Morgan's ass when she spots them. She wanted a super-chic party and the playfulness of that one costume in particular will rub her the wrong way. I pray she has had a few drinks before she sees them, if only to save the feelings of the one wearing it.