Page 1 of Something Blue

CHAPTER ONE

Neve

Ikeep glancing over at the wall clock, with its pearl inlaid face and elegant silver hands ticking away the time. Second by second, my anxiety is growing worse.

I glance up at the mirror in front of me - looking past my reflection towards my best friend, Dalila Vece.

“Is there any sign of him yet?” I ask tensely.

“Not yet, but he’ll be here. He got held up somewhere.” She reassures me - for the hundredth time. She has been my best friend for years. Our families have been tangled together in a kind of weird way, but despite all of that, she and I got on like a house on fire from the first moment we met.

I adore her and if she wasn’t here right now, I’d be losing my mind.

“He’s always so careful about time.” I sigh.

It’s not like Damion to be late for anything.

Especially not our wedding.

The make-up artist and hair lady are fussing around me, making me lookperfect. Everything has to be perfect, according to my father. The perfect dress, the perfect venue, perfect food and perfect decor - but nothing is perfect unless the groom shows up.

I shift on the dressing table chair and pull my mouth tight.

“Honey, you need to relax, or I can’t do your makeup.” The girl complains, speaking gently, but is definitely annoyed with me. I’ve been fidgeting the whole time. She’s had to fix make up splodges twice already. I can’t believe Damion isn’t here yet.

We’ve been engaged for about four months. It wasn’t really a choice - more of a convenience. My father requires that I marry someone with status, money, and power. All of which Damion’s familyhas. Upstanding citizens who will reflect well on my father.

And Damion and I get on well enough, I can deal with him as my husband. It’s also the perfect way for me to escape my father’s overbearing rules.

Rules about what I may wear. Rules about where I may go. Rules about how I speak and every single choice I make.

Being a politician’s daughter is not all it’s cut out to be. I’ve been made aware of the media my entire life. Hyper perfection is the only option. My father’s campaign is running smoothly at the moment - with the help of some dodgy investors - but the media rules our lives.

So, Damion was chosen to be my husband because he’s a good fit for the image our family needs.

But where the hell is he?It’s our wedding day.

“Dalila.” I turn around in my seat and the make-up artist sighs loudly. I wave her away from me, my annoyance trumping hers. She steps back and fidgets with her brushes to cover the redness of her cheeks.

“Neve?” Dalila says, smiling, trying to maintain a cool, positive outlook, although I am falling apart at the seams.

“Did you try calling him again?” I ask, standing up because I need to pace around.

“I’ve been calling, but his phone is off. Look - honey, he’s obviously stuck somewhere, he forgot to charge his phone, it’s probably something so silly - but he will be here. We need to get you ready. Ok?”

“And my brother? Did he go check Damion’s apartment?”

“He said he was going to send someone. He didn’t want to leave the wedding and causes suspicion.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, fighting tears that will completely ruin the make-up that I really don’t want to sit for anymore. “Ok. Ok. Ok.” I say quietly.

Get ready - focus on that. By the time you’re done, he will be here.

I sit down and face the mirror again. My bright blue eyes are staring back at me - filled with concern. What if he got cold feet?Impossible. Heknows this marriage is important. Not only to us - but to both families. He lives under the strain of the media just as much as I do. He wouldn’t cause a scene like this. No. Something has happened. I just hope it’s not serious, and he gets here on time.

The hairdresser pins the last glittering crystal into my curled, braided, pinned up hair and I turn my head to the side to admire the overall effect. It’s going to be an absolute nightmare to get that out before I go to bed, but my pale blonde hair looks gorgeous. She holds a mirror up behind me and I nod. The make-up artists touches a dash of gloss to my full caramel tinted lips, then they both step away from me.

“Thank goodness.” I huff when the girls announce my hair and make-up aredone.

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