Page 44 of Lost Without You (Chasing Olivia 2)

Listening to the conversation between Amanda and Miranda as the finishing touches were put on us, it seems they knew the boys would find us last night.

“I never thought it would happen,” Amanda says to Miranda. “Someone has finally stopped the infamous playboy.”

“Do you really think so?” she asks, her eyes full of hope.

“In all the years I’ve known Justin, and I’ve known him for quite a few, I have never seen him act that way for a woman. Never.”

“He was so cute earlier. He was on his knees, begging me to forgive him for being a neanderthal,” Miranda says, giggling.

“On his knees? Girl, he’s whipped,” Amanda laughs. “What about you and Chase? You two seemed fine when he dropped you off.”

“We had some words, but came to a mutual agreement,” I say, my lips twitching into a smile.

“Agreement?” Miranda asks.

“Yes. He told me he’d stop running in like Rambo to save me, and I told him I’d stop dirty dancing with other guys.” They both laugh. “What?” I ask.

“That’s not going to happen,” Amanda says.

“What’s not going to happen?”

“I’ve only seen him this way once, and it was a long time ago. I’m not even sure it was this bad,” Amanda says to Miranda, then turns to me. “Honey, he’s head over heels in love with you. He is going to be in uber-protective mode for the rest of your life. You might as well get used to it.”

“Sweetie, enjoy it. It’s nice to have a man be protective over you,” Miranda adds.

“Protective is one thing. Controlling my life is something I won’t tolerate. I had one of those already, and I’m not doing it again.”

“No, not like that. He’s just looking out for what’s his.” There’s that word again. His. Mine. I don’t want to feel like I’m a possession for Chase to own. I love that he wants me, and I will be his, but there needs to be stipulations.

By the time we’re finished being primped, it just after four o’clock. Miranda and I are dressed and ready to go, waiting in the living room for Amanda. After a few painful minutes, she finally walks out of the bedroom.

“Ohmigod! It looks even better than it did in the boutique,” Miranda gushes.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, appraising the gorgeous dress. It fits her perfectly, like it was made for her, which it probably was.

“Thanks. It was designed by Jim Hjelm,” she says as she spins around so we can see the back.

“He designed a wedding dress for Kim Kardashian,” Miranda announces.

There’s a knock at the door and Miranda answers it.

“The flowers for the Berkeley wedding,” a gentleman holding a large rectangular box announces.

“Yes, can you put them over there?” she asks, pointing to the coffee table. He places the box down and leaves with a nod of his head. Miranda opens the lid with a squeal. “These are gorgeous!”

Our bouquets are beautiful. For Miranda and I, they are brightly colored orchids in brilliant hues of pinks, oranges, and yellows, with the stems wrapped in silk the color of our dresses. Amanda’s bouquet is filled with white roses and white orchids wrapped in white silk.

“Okay, ladies, let’s go take some pictures. Mom, Dad, let’s go!” Amanda yells toward the back of the house.

We all walk outside toward the beach where three photographers Amanda flew in are setting up. They’re supposed to be the best of the best. One photographer directs us where to go and how to stand while another holds the camera, snapping pictures. The third is somewhere with the guys.

As our pictures are being taken, Sheila shows up, ready to take charge. Once our photo op is finished, she directs us down the beach, where the ceremony will take place.

We’re brought to a boardwalk aisle leading toward the beach. The boardwalk is decorated with fresh flower petals, palm leaves, and conch shells. Sheila directs Mr. and Mrs. Berkeley to their seats, along with Mrs. St. Claire.

Sheila brings me to the front since I’m starting the precession. I get the slightest glimpse of where we’re walking to, but can’t see Chase. “Wait for the music, then I’ll tell you when to walk. Remember, you go to the left,” she tells Miranda and me.

A few minutes later, a string quartet begins to play Canon in D Major. Sheila is standing in front of me with her hand up, telling me to wait. Closing her eyes, she listens to the music for a moment before her hand drops and she signals for me to move.

---