The Wedding Wrecker Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Tags Authors: Penelope Bloom Advertisement1

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"Good luck! And Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to enjoy it a little. Not everything has to be perfect."

If only she knew how wrong she was. In this business, perfect wasn't just the goal—it was the bare minimum. One mistake, one bad review, and your reputation was toast.

I hung up and retreated to the bridal suite, where the final preparations were underway. The bride, Sarah McNamara (soon to be Harrison), sat perfectly still as the makeup artist made final touches.

I lingered for a moment, lifting my camera to snap a candid picture of her there. I did hire a separate photographer, but as someone who got my start planning weddings by being a photographer, I had never been able to fully give up the camera.

Something about taking pictures had always spoken to me. It wasn’t just about the pictures, it was about walking through life with a different perspective. Being a photographer taught you to recognize and appreciate moments in a different way. They were fleeting, and if you didn’t capture them, they would be gone forever.

I tried not to think about my own fleeting youth and the chance of having my own perfect wedding someday. I was twenty-eight, and nearing prehistoric age as far as being the perfect bride was concerned.

“Oh,” Sarah said, eyes flicking to me in the mirror. “I didn’t see you there, Emma. You’re quiet as a ghost.”

"Everything's set," I told her, pushing thoughts of James aside and forcing a smile. "The flowers are perfect, the musicians are in place, and the lighting will hit exactly right during the ceremony."

Sarah's eyes met mine in the mirror. "And Michael? Is he ready?"

"The groom is with his groomsmen. Everything's on schedule."

She nodded, but something in her expression made me pause. Was that doubt in her eyes? Pre-wedding jitters were normal, but...

No. Focus, Emma. Details. That's what you're good at.

I gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders, careful not to mess up her hair or dress. “Tonight is your day. Everything is going to be amazing. I promise.”

Sarah smiled, looking slightly more relaxed as I left to check on everything else.

I spent the next hour coordinating last-minute adjustments. The flower girl needed her sash retied. One of the groomsmen lost his boutonnière. A guest with a nut allergy wanted me to double check with the kitchen to know the cake was safe.

Through it all, I kept catching glimpses of James. He moved through the crowd like a shadow, speaking quietly to various guests. Each time I saw him, that uneasy feeling in my stomach grew stronger. Worse, he was either magically oblivious to my presence today or actively ignoring me.

I wasn’t sure which was more hurtful.

Last night felt like a dream now—the wine cellar, his hands on my skin, the way he'd made me feel both reckless and safe at the same time.

I pushed the thoughts away. I was a professional. This was my moment.

Finally, it was time. The guests were seated, the music swelled, and Sarah began her walk down the aisle. She was stunning in her custom gown, which caught the golden hour light exactly as I'd planned.

I allowed myself a small smile as I snapped pictures from my carefully selected place. I was already mentally running through the schedule—thinking about how I’d need to usher the bride, groom, and their family to the spots I’d mapped out in the castle to catch the light at the right times.

But so far, everything was going according to plan.

I spotted James in the third row, his face unreadable. He hadn't so much as glanced my way, but I forced myself not to care. This wasn't about me or my ill-advised hookup. This was about Sarah and Michael.

The ceremony proceeded beautifully. Sarah and Michael reached their vows, and I felt that familiar warmth in my chest.

Sarah's voice shook slightly as she promised to love Michael forever. Was she nervous? Emotional? I studied her face, trying to read the subtle signs I'd learned to recognize over years of watching brides.

"If anyone knows any reason why these two should not be wed," the officiant intoned, "speak now or forever hold your peace."

James stood up.

No.

My heart stopped as he stepped into the aisle, that envelope from earlier in his hand.

No, no, no.

"There’s something everybody here needs to know," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent courtyard. "Michael has been cheating on Sarah."

The ground felt like it fell away beneath my feet. Gasps echoed through the crowd as James approached the altar.

"I was hired by the bride's father to investigate concerns about Mr. Harrison's fidelity," James continued, his professional tone a stark contrast to the way he'd whispered my name last night. "What I found was a pattern of infidelity spanning the last year, documented through texts, emails, and hotel receipts. Anyone who doubts it is free to come look through my evidence."


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