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“LILY!” I BANGED MY fist against the door, hard as I could. “Lily, open up!”
I didn’t care that it was only a little after dawn. I didn’t care that people on this floor were still sleeping, and were most likely as hung over as me. I didn’t even care that Lily had been known to single-handedly eviscerate people who interrupted her REM cycle.
I needed my best friend, and I needed her now. She was Dylan and my witness for a reason. It was time to find out exactly what she’d witnessed us getting ourselves into last night.
“Lily! You have the sleeping habits of a panda, and I don’t have the patience or the time. Now open up this door before I...”
My voice trailed off as a half-naked man pulled open the door.
Despite the fact that I was standing next to Dylan—a demi-god in his own right and perhaps my new husband—my jaw fell to the floor.
He had light brown skin—gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat—and long black hair that fell in little waves to the tip of his chin. My genius best friend had apparently stolen all but his socks because that and a carefully placed handbag were the only things he was wearing—giving me a tantalizing view of the muscular line that ran all the way down to his—
“I am sorry,” his English was accented, but good, “can I help you with something?”
His hazel eyes fixed on me with curiosity, and I said the only thing that came to mind.
And it was very, very stupid.
“You’re not Lily.”
The man smiled indulgently, and Dylan rolled his eyes.
“Listen, man,” Dylan glanced between me and handbag disapprovingly before giving the guy his best Dylan Murphy glare. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, so if you wouldn’t mind getting Lily for us,” he lowered his voice condescendingly, “that’s the name of the girl you spent last night with—that would be great.”
The guy’s eyes cooled as he looked at Dylan, but he still gave me a little wink before he turned back toward the bedroom. “Lily, there are some people here to see you—”
I didn’t have time.
Casting a final glance at his glistening pectorals, I shoved past him and pushed my way into the room. A strong feeling of déjà vu swept over me, and I resisted a smile. Lily’s penthouse suite looked surprisingly similar to ours—trashed. People were sleeping everywhere. Lily had a party!
Trays of caviar, empty bottles of wine, piles of forgotten clothing...
...and Lily, sitting in the midst of it all. Like some sort of sated queen.
“Hey.” I rushed over and perched on the bed beside her, ready to unload my troubles to a practiced ear. The men stayed by the door, still sizing each other up, and I lowered my voice so as not to be heard. “Lil, please—oh please—tell me that you got married last night too?”
She snorted and cast a fond look at her new discovery. “Meet Marco, isn’t he gorgeous? But he’s not mine. Belongs to that chick on the floor.”
“You threw a party?”
“Yep.”
I flashed a smile at him. “Hi there, Marco.” And turned back to Lily. “So did you marry anybody in this room?”
Lily shook her head. “Afraid not. That was all you, my friend.”
“Then why is—”
Her eyebrows shot up sarcastically. “You know, some of us can manage to have a little fun without sex or legally wedding a person. That is possible. Even in Vegas.”
“Fair point.”
She smiled. “When these guys heard I had the penthouse, well, they all wanted to see it. So we just all hung out and talked. Listened to music. No biggie. We all fell asleep. Met some great friends.”
“I’m glad you made friends. Can I please borrow some clothes?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I went in her suitcase, dashed into the bathroom and threw on a summer dress with white sandals. When I came out, I peered at her. “So listen...you were really drunk last night too, right?”
She perked up a bit as she zeroed in on my cautious tone. “...yeah?”
“So...there’s a chance that you don’t know what really happened either, right? I mean, there’s still a chance that nothing actually—”
“I was worried about that,” she interrupted, fumbling around in her purse on the nightstand, “I was worried that I’d be too wasted to be a good witness.” Her face lightened in triumph as she pulled out her phone. “That’s why I got the whole thing on video.”
My eyes locked onto the phone like it was my own personal nightmare, and I resisted the urge to knock it clean out of her hand. No phone, no video, right? No video, no wedding? No wedding, no—
Stop it Rose. It’s vandalism, plain and simple.
As if sensing my destructive thoughts, Lily pulled the phone back slowly until it was just out of reach. Her eyes studied mine carefully, as she simultaneously waved Dylan over to watch.
“I’ll just hold it then, shall I?”
I shrugged innocently. “I can hold it.”
“I’ll hold it.”
Dylan settled on the bed beside us, and Lily pressed play.
A shrill symphony of laughter, shrieking, and a great deal of old rock and roll rang out in the suite—the suite that had gone suddenly quiet. Dylan and I leaned in as one, watching in wonder as the whole catastrophe unraveled before our very eyes.
“Whoa!” Marco squealed. “You look so fine in that white lace. Sexy mama!”
“Hey, your girlfriend is here! Have some respect!” Lily said.
The first thing I couldn’t help but think was—was I really sober when I picked that dress?
It was way too sexy to be a wedding dress. The thing didn’t have a back, for crying out loud. From a distance, it almost looked like lingerie.
And the fact that I’d paired it with those towering heels? No wonder Dylan wanted to marry me.
Well clearly, mission accomplished. It didn’t stay on for very long... Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I commanded the pesky little voice into submission and turned my attention back to the screen.
Dylan was at the altar already, and before I knew it, I was walking up the aisle. Floating was more like it. Our eyes fixed on each other, and despite the amount of alcohol I knew we both had consumed, there was a surprising sort of depth to it. A strange, happy kind of calm that didn’t really jive with the rest of the ceremony. I flashed Lily a priceless look as I walked past her and the phone, and then we were holding hands in front of Elvis.
He drawled a couple of phrases in a fake Southern accent, and I watched Dylan and me alternate between either openly laughing or trying to keep it together. The entire ceremony followed in the same tone. Our officiator was clearly Elvis, and by the end, the whole thing had dissolved into something resembling a deranged sort of sitcom. The kind of show where everything went tragically wrong only to end up making a perfect right. Only no one could remember their lines.
...and nothing had turned out right.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Dylan. His eyes were riveted to the screen, but he was watching with a perfect poker face. When Elvis said ‘you can kiss the bride’ and the two of us came together, I saw a hint of that wistful expression I’d seen earlier. A strange sort of nostalgia that vanished just as quickly as before.
Before the two of us could turn around, the video blacked out. I looked over at Lily, who simply shrugged. “And that’s when my phone died. Pretty great footage, though, right? It speaks to the quality of the maid of honor.”
She turned to us expectantly, but Dylan and I were frozen in shock. Simply saying the words this morning from the safety of the bathroom was nothing like seeing the hard evidence right there in front of us.
Husband and wife.
Married.
Mr. and Mrs. Murphy.
You may kiss the freaking bride.
My eyes drifted down to Dylan’s pocket—the same pocket that was holding my new trillion dollar ring.
How...had this happened?
“So—the two of you got married?”
We looked up in alarm to see Lily’s one-night stand clap his hands together with a warm smile as he proceeded to cross the room.
“I thought so—that’s wonderful news! Congratulations!”
He offered out his hand to shake, but Dylan and I were still frozen in various states of shock and dismay. Our brows creased, our lips ajar, like two indignant statues left out in the rain.
“Why did you say that?” I demanded. “What do you mean—you thought so?”
At the same time, Dylan snapped, “Who are you, anyway?”
The man’s hand wilted a bit, but Lily rushed forward with a smile. “Guys, Marco is from Spain. He’s on a honeymoon with his wife, Jenny. And I’d introduce you to the others, but they’re still sleeping. Marco, these are my friends. And yes—they’re newlyweds.”
Although she said the word with a healthy dose of sarcasm, Marco’s smile remained sincere. “Congratulations. You two make a beautiful couple.”
I tilted my head to the side, staring accusingly. “Yeah, and why do you say that?”
A blonde guy came over and shook Lily’s hand. “Well, it was fun crashing here.”
She rolled her eyes and patted him consolingly on the chest. “Yes, it was fun and all. But I really need to be here to counsel these two. You know—marriage troubles. I think you need to wake up everyone and please leave.”
His handsome face crumpled in confusion as he was pushed towards the door. “But didn’t they just get married last night?”
“Yeah,” she shoved him out into the hall, “in this town, your luck can change so darn quickly.”
“Like now?”
“Yep.”
“But I was hoping to get to know you more. I never even got a chance to kiss your sweet lips.”
“Sorry, but I don’t kiss on the first date.”
We got everyone up and moving and they started heading out the door.
The lock clicked shut behind him, and the three of us stood in a quiet room. No one seemed to know what to say, and no one could seem to meet each other’s eyes. We simply stood there, waiting for some kind of miraculous solution to present itself.
“So...” Lily finally ventured, “I’m assuming you two woke up and didn’t remember much of last night?”
We were both silent.
“And...judging by the delighted looks on your faces, I’m also assuming we’re not taking this as a good thing?”
Dylan’s eyes flashed to me, but again, we stayed silent.
Lily looked between us for a second, before clapping her hands briskly together. “Well, then let me say three things. First, the obvious silver lining here is that Rose—you were, in fact, married by the deadline. The inheritance should be yours. Second—and this is just me going out on a limb here—but if the marriage was...uh...consummated, then it’s not like you two can have it quickly annulled. If that’s what you guys were thinking.”
Annulment. I had simply been hoping that the entire thing was one big mistake somehow. But now that she mentioned it—yeah. The marriage was most definitely consummated. So annulment was most definitely off the table.
“What’s the third thing?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes shot up to mine. “What?”
“You said three things. What’s the third thing?”
“Oh...” her face grew almost apologetic, “...you borrowed fifty bucks from me last night.”
My eyes closed with a soft groan.
Could my morning get any worse?
As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. Dylan ignored it completely while Lily paced forward to open it with obvious frustration. “Look, guys, the party is over. You really have to...”
But it wasn’t any party goers. It was Tommy. Standing there with the baby.
Alone.
“Hey, guys...”
My mouth fell open in alarm as Dylan and I sprang off the bed in unison, joining Lily by the door. “Where’s Kim?” I demanded, looking the baby up and down. Tommy pulled in a quick breath. His hands were shaking, but he was forcing himself to remain calm. “She left.”
I take it back. Tommy had me beat.