Page 18 of The Wedding Wrecker

"You almost looked sad about it," Derek continued. "Like maybe you wanted him to be guilty. Which is kind of fucked up, if you think about it."

"I'm helping people."

"Are you? Or are you just spreading your own trauma around like a party favor? Do you ever wonder if this business of yours is just keeping the wound open? I mean… Katie wasyearsago, man. And you still haven’t ever seemed the same since that day. One guy can only suffer so many wounds before he bleeds out, you know. You’ve either got to close them up or stop letting yourself get hurt."

I shot him a look. "Am I paying you to be my therapist, or handle the bullshit paperwork I don’t want to handle?"

"Fine, avoid the subject. But you know I'm right." He headed for the door, then paused. "Oh, almost forgot. This came for you."

He tossed an envelope onto my desk. Heavy cream paper, expensive. The return address was for a law firm I didn't recognize.

Inside was a single sheet of paper:

Dear Mr. Carter,

My daughter is engaged to marry a man I don’t trust. I heard about what you do from my older daughter, and I never thought I’d need your services, but here I am. Her fiancéis part of a very influential and powerful family, so I would need to know that every aspect of our arrangement could stay completely confidential.

Is that possible?

The man I want you to investigate is Marcus Wellington III, and my daughter is Lily Marshall. They’re planning to get married in five months at an exclusive resort in Breckrenridge, Colorado. I’m sure I could get you invited to the wedding by claiming you were an old friend, or something of the sort. Would that work?

Please get back to me as soon as you can.

Martha Marshall

I read it twice, something nagging at the back of my mind. I wasn’t sure I recognized the names, but something about the letter was setting off warning bells.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Run a search on Marcus Wellington III."

He pulled out his phone, fingers blurring across the screen. Then he whistled low. "Damn. Old money. Like, really old money. Getting married in December at some fancy resort in Colorado. Lucky bride. Hm.” More typing and a few clicks. “Actually, maybe he’s the lucky one. That bride looks like a supermodel, but more down to Earth. Like the girl next door on steroids.Sheesh.No wonder he wants to tie the knot."

My blood ran cold as I saw the photo on the page Derek had pulled up.

Marcus Wellington III and his fiancée, Lily Marshall, smiled up at me. But it was the second picture that caught my eye. Lower down on the page, there was a photo of a slightly younger version of Lily with her sister beaming at the camera. The caption below said Lily’s own sister was planning the wedding.

Of course she was.

And of course I recognized the face of her sister. Her sister was Emma Marshal.My Irish Flower,as Derek liked to tease.

Fuck.

7

EMMA

The Timber Vale Lodge looked like something out of a fairytale—if fairytales had valet parking and rooms starting at two thousand dollars a night, at least.

I stepped out of my rental car, immediately grateful for the heated driveway keeping the snow at bay. Between the puffy, snow-coated trees, the mountains blanketed in white, and the chill in the air, I knew I was definitely not in San Francisco anymore. Thankfully, the sun was bright and warm in a way that cut through the cold a little.

I’d been warned, but I was learning first hand about altitude adjustment as well. We were around nine thousand feet high, and even lifting my carry-on out of my Uber’s trunk had me winded. Supposedly, it could improve in as quick as a day, or it could take months.

Yay. As if I need any help feeling unathletic.

A group of guests glided past in designer ski wear, all smiles and happy faces. Meanwhile, I was pretty sure my nose had turned an attractive shade of red from the cold. My only “heavy”jacket was definitely not rated for this kind of cold, either. I had considered upgrading before the trip, but the good ones cost too much for my budget, which was currently fueled by very small wedding planning. I did occasionally pick up a few extra dollars doing freelance photography gigs, but those weren’t anything I could count on.

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