Page 69 of The Star

After I take a long, boiling hot shower to wash the sweat and lingering feeling of Carson’s hands off my body, I throw on a plain black crop top and pair of jeans so I can head downstairs for some coffee.

Slipping my feet into some Vans, I grab my keycard as well as my phone and leave my room on silent feet. Thankfully, the hallway is empty, as well as the elevator when I get on. I don’t think I could face Carson or Dumb and Dumber after my fiery explosion out on the patio last night.

I still feel a little mad, but I’m mostly just dreading slapping a happy face on today to interact with Cassidy. I haven’t seen her sincethe incident,and I don’t think she’s going to be very happy to see me. But – at least it wasn’t a surprise for her, she knows it’s my dad’s wedding.

I, however, was fucking bombarded by her attendance.

Getting off the elevator in the lobby, I look around for any indication of where I need to be going to get some coffee into my system, but luckily, I find my dad wandering around, looking lost as well. “Dad!”

His head turns, and he smiles as he crosses the lobby to reach me. “Do you have any idea where I can get a cup of coffee in this place?!”

I laugh. “No clue, let’s find someone to ask.”

I lead him to the front desk, asking the receptionist where breakfast is served, and she points me toward the wall of windowed doors at the other end of the lobby. “Take a right out of the lobby, past the pools, and then there will be a restaurant on the right. If you hit the tennis courts, you’ve gone too far.”

She beams, and my dad turns to me as we walk away, an impressed look on his face. “Fancy.”

We go through the doors the receptionist motioned to, turning right on the white stone walkway next to a large patio area. The pools are on our left after a minute, so we look out for the restaurant she mentioned, finding a set of Victorian double doors propped open. We go inside, admiring the welcoming and warm vibe of the room, which is set up with a breakfast buffet and lots of tables spread around.

My gaze runs through the room, landing on a coffee bar that’s set up on the far end, so I rush for it to look over my options. I decide on an iced coffee, and since it’s buffet style, I decide to do half vanilla, half caramel, with extra half and half.

My dad gets his own coffee – hot and black – and then points to a table. “Want to sit?”

I take a sip from my straw, shaking my head. “Gotta get to the bridal suite to get ready with Sara.”

“Okay, honey.” He walks to the doors with me, back the way we came, and once we’re walking in the lobby again, I turn to him and wiggle my eyebrows.

“See you at the wedding. Break a leg.”

He chuckles, pulling me into a tight embrace. “See you there.”

He walks back out the doors to the patio, and I press the button to call the elevator to head upstairs to meet Sara and her bridal party.

thirty-two

LOGAN

It’s 3pm by the time we’re wrapping up the preparations of getting ready. Sara hired people to do our hair and makeup, and seamstresses to make sure the dresses were perfect, even though they were all made specifically for us.

I’m sitting on a white ottoman in a silk robe that has my name embroidered on the back, with Sara’s best friend Caroline sitting next to me in a matching one.

Sara is last to get her makeup done, because she“needs to look the freshest”– her words, not mine.

I’m done up like a doll, my hair and makeup flawless from the women that were hired to perfect us all. They went over me with a precision that can only be done by a professional, keeping my eye makeup light but still somehow making me look like a runway model. My hair is curled today, the top half clipped up and secured with a gorgeous diamond comb at the back.

All the other women in the room look equally perfect. I’ve kept to myself, though. Sara made it a point to put me in her bridal party, which I thought was nice. She didn’t have to, since we haven’t known each other that long after all.

Caroline is the only person I’ve really spoken to aside from Sara, simply because she’s gone out of her way to make me feel comfortable and included. Everyone’s really sweet, which you don’t expect from a group of filthy rich women. At least, that’s what I was expecting from all the TV shows.

As the artist is finishing up Sara’s makeup, and the stylist is putting the finishing touches on her hair, one of the double doors to the suite bangs open and Carson’s shit-eating grin appears at the other side. He’s dressed in a black suit today, and it’s hard for me to keep my eyes off of him even though I’m still pissed off. The guy really knows how to wear a damn suit.

“Carson, what if we were changing?!” Sara yells at him, but he just walks toward her and places a kiss on the top of her head, making the hair stylist wave him away and curse at him.

“I’m your Man of Honor. Don’t I get to hang out with you guys?” He catches my eye as he makes his way to the couch, plopping down noisily like he owns the place. I turn away, focusing on a spot on the wall instead of him.

I can feel his eyes burning me from across the room, like he’s trying to send me telepathic messages.

Caroline pulls him into conversation about football, which makes me blow out a breath of relief. I’m committed to not making a scene today, like I promised Sara, but sitting two feet from Carson is making me feel anxious and angry after last night.

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