Page 96 of Dr. Fellow

Fortunately, I don’t have to search for patience because the elevator pings, and I launch myself through the doors in search of my favorite bride.

I only make it a few steps before I pause in my tracks, jaw dropping as I look around. The venue is even more beautiful than it appears online—sleek opulence surrounded by thirty-foot windows that overlook the downtown Atlanta skyline.

Even though the wedding isn’t for several more hours, everything appears to be set up already, from the photo booth to the dinner tables. Unable to help myself, I reach out to touch a beautiful floral arrangement near the elevator, a classic assortment of white hydrangeas and other flowers spilling out of a massive metal goblet.

“Cass,” I yell, weaving around the white linen tables covered in fresh greenery. “Where’s the getting ready room?”

When nobody responds, I swivel my head around to try and spy their belongings. She never replied to my text, so it’s possible that I made it before her, but it’s already twelve-thirty. . . we’re late.

“Hello?” I call into the empty space, hoping someone is around who can direct me.

Walker appears behind me. “Beau told me he was on the patio. Maybe they’re outside.”

“That’s why they pay you the big bucks.” I wink at him before speeding toward the doors, thankful I wore tennis shoes and an athletic dress because I have the zoomies.

On the way over, Walker told me that the guys were meeting at the venue before driving to GJ’s for lunch. While it doesn’t make any sense because the bar is in the opposite direction of downtown, I didn’t question him—as long as they’re ready for the wedding, I could care less what they do all day.

I make it outside, searching for my friends. The outdoor space is almost the same size as the interior. There’s a roped-off area with rows of black metal chairs facing a huge floral arch, and two bars that appear to be fully stocked despite the lack of bartenders. It looks like someone set everything up and then abandoned ship.

Weird.

“Cass?” I call, feeling like this is a game of hide and seek that I’m losing.

“Up here.”

Her voice cuts through the perfect June air, and I do my best to follow it. I swear it sounded like she was above me, but that can’t be right. We’re on the rooftop . . .

“Cass?”

“Morg,” she replies, her voice louder now.

I take it back. This isn’t hide and seek—this is Marco Polo.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Take the stairs.”

I find the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I reach the top, I throw open the door and take a tentative step onto the painted pavement.

I totally forgot that this place had a helipad.

“What’s going on?” I ask, blinking several times at my friend.

She’s sitting on the concrete with her legs crossed, hair up in a ponytail like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Parker, Beau, Caroline, and Claire are with her, their bodies forming a semi-circle with an unopened bottle of champagne between them.

I swear to god if the next game is duck, duck, goose I’m going to loseit . . .

“Why aren’t you getting ready?” I direct the question at the group but keep my focus on Cassidy.

When I don’t receive an answer, my eyes shift over each of them, trying to understand what’s happening here. They just stare back at me with various shades of amusement on their faces—even Parker Winters has a smirk on his lips.

Am I in the upside down?

I redirect my attention to Cass. “Do you not believe in superstition? Pretty sure the bride and groom aren’t supposed to see each other on their wedding day.”

I know that I’m not one to do things traditionally, as evidenced by my surprise wedding in Vegas, but Cassidy definitely is. She should be in the bridal suite getting her hair and makeup done, not sitting beside her future husband on a helipad.

“That’s because it’s not our wedding day.”

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