Page 13 of Marcel

Matthew was similarlydressed in a superb ash-gray suit, but his shirt was a pale babyblue. He, too, had a pale pink rose tucked into the lapel of hisjacket.

“Let’sget this over with,” Marcel said curtly.

*****

The Catholic churchin the middle of the large ten acres of land, covered with lush greengrass, towering maple and oak trees, and a gentle stream bubblingover smooth stones, had been where the Hadley’s had beenattending services for generations.

The lovelystained-glass windows, rising majestically towards the archedceilings, sent the sunlight filtering through and touching the manyguests seated quietly as they listened to the gentle swell of theorchestra playing.

Marcel was staringright in front of him. Minutes before, he had talked himself into asurreal calm that had his heart beating steadily inside his chest. Hehad caught a glimpse of Peter and Simone and had quickly looked awayfrom the haunting expression on her lovely face.

Peter was a seniorpartner, so it was natural for him to be in attendance. And so washis wife. Marcel did not want to think about what Simone was goingthrough. He could not afford to think about it.

Mentally shaking hishead, he focused on the arched doorway as the music change indicatedthat the bride was making her way in.

The guests were askedto stand, and they simultaneously rose and turned towards thedoorway. Marcel's fingers curled into his palms as shock and baffledpride swept through his entire body. He was barely able to concealthe gasp along with the rest of the guests as they caught their firstglimpse of the bride.

Her face was glowing,the caramel face clearly defined, the curves of her cheekbonessculpted, the winged eyebrows, the dark brown eyes highlighted by thenude eyeshadows on her lids. Her hair was a mass of curls, dark brownin places and streaked honey blonde leading to the tips, disappearingpast her shoulders.

The dress was ashimmering champagne silk overlaid with the finest hand-stitchedlace. It hugged her small breasts and cinched in to make her waistseem impossibly small. The skirt was A-line and slithered down herhips and straight to her ankles. The sleeve barely covered her arms,and she wore gloves up to her elbows.

A wispy, thin veilwas placed on her head, held in place by a stunning diamond barrette.She walked with a sloping gazelle-like grace that made her look likeshe was dancing.

He had no idea he hadbeen holding his breath until Matthew uttered a strangled sound ofdisbelief.

Forcing himself toremain where he was and reminding himself of why he was here in thefirst place and what she was getting out of it, he waited until shestood in front of him.

His father releasedher arm and stepped back, but he had to steel himself not to reactwhen she looked at him and smiled, her nude-colored lipstick againsther dazzling white teeth.

He barely nodded,took her hand, and turned it towards the priest.

*****

“She issomething else, isn’t she?” The admiration in Jackson’svoice could not be mistaken.

The ceremony wasover, and they were on the lush lawns of the manor where Marcel hadgrown up. The lawn was dotted with chairs, but the guests weremilling around, drinking champagne and enjoying the delectable feastsbeing served for the past half an hour.

The towering pinkchampagne cake had been cut, and their first dance as husband andwife had been dispensed with.

She had thrown herbouquet of peonies, baby’s breath, and orchids to the singleladies in the crowd, and he had been egged on to remove her garterwith his teeth, something he had not done.

Instead, he hadstaved off the comments by saying that he was the only one who wassupposed to see his wife’s thighs. When he looked around, itwas to realize that both Peter and Simone had already left, which wasa relief.

Now, his wife hadkicked off her strappy sandals and was dancing to a reggae beat. Shehad moves and a vast number of admirers.

“Where is thehoneymoon?” Jackson asked when his friend did not comment.

“A villa inSantorini.”

“How long?”

“A week. We areboth busy lawyers and have cases pending,” he explained, hiseyes on the woman who now had his name. Of course, a prenup had beensigned, and she had not balked as she signed her name with a flourishafter reading the legal document.

“You don’tlook like a man who just tied the knot.”

“What do youmean?” He dragged his eyes from his wife’s gyrating bodyand stared at his friend.

“You look as ifyou just made a mistake.”

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