Page 59 of The Star

She nods, still not making eye contact with me as she paces her line in the living room. “What did we forget?”

I stand up. “Well, since you hired a wedding planner, I’m going to say nothing.” I walk to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Sara?”

She looks at me, humming between her lips.

“You need to chill.” I give her a small smile.

“I am super chill,” she answers, eyes bright and wild.

I laugh. “Super chill,right.”

She puts a hand on her forehead. “Oh God, we haven’t even been engaged for that long… is it too fast?! Did we rush to get married?! What if he realizes I’m an insane person and leaves me at the altar?!”

I shake her a little, cutting off the next wild train of thought that’s barreling toward her at a million miles an hour. “Sara! Dad loves you, take a deep breath.”

It occurs to me that I’m comforting the woman who is essentially going to replace my mom, and that makes my stomach turn over. A few weeks ago, I hated this woman… she was everything I didn’t want for my life. But I’ve grown to love Sara – she’s nothing like my mom, and she never will be. She’s different, she’s crazy and fun, and she’s exactly what my dad needs.

“You ready?” I ask, making her slide her gaze to me again. Her eyes are watery and wide, but her lips are curved into a small smile. I return her smile, putting a hand on her forearm. “Let’s go.”

She nods, her smile growing. “Okay.”

She blows out a breath, shaking off whatever cold feet she previously had, and then she laughs a little as she threads her arm through mine and leads me to the front door.

When she peels the door open, I find a black, shiny SUV-limo sitting in the circular driveway just in front of the fountain. I perk a brow. “A limo?”

She shrugs. “It’s my wedding day. I wanted to feel like royalty.”

I laugh as we make our way to the car. “Did Dad and Carson get a limo as well?”

“No, they took your dad’s Hyundai.” She laughs.

I return her laughter as I slip in the car door behind her, my eyes going wide when I catch my first glimpse of the inside of a limousine. It’s like its own little room, lined with black leather seating and a bar sitting at the end underneath the window that separates us from the driver. “Jesus.”

Sara sits on the long bench on the left side of the car, kicking her feet up on the seat that sits parallel to her as she settles in. I sit on one of three individual seats lining the back, admiring the interior. It smells clean, like fresh vanilla with a touch of leather, and the scent warms me. I settle down as well, putting my little crossbody bag on the seat next to me.

The window that separates the cab from us slides down. “Ready, Mrs. Raines?”

“Ready,” Sara answers, then looks at me with a sparkle to her eye as the driver rolls the window back up. “Drink?”

I cross my legs Indian style on the leather chair. “Sure.”

As the car starts moving, Sara finds her balance to stand up, the top part of her body bent so she doesn’t hit her head on the ceiling, and goes for the bar. She pops open the minifridge that’s right at the center, pulling out two little bottles of champagne. She peels the foil, pops the corks, then makes her way back to her seat, holding one out to me.

I quirk an eyebrow at her as I take the bottle, and she winks at me. “Royalty, remember? Don’t tell your dad.”

I chuckle as I take a mouthful of the bubbly liquid, relaxing in my chair to enjoy the rest of the royal treatment.

* * *

By the time Sara and I have gone separate ways in the hotel, and I’ve crashed down onto the large bed in the center of my room, the three little bottles of champagne I downed in the limo have started to go to my head. I feel light and giggly, and I blame the bubbles. I lie down for a minute, but then go on the hunt for a snack so I don’t embarrass myself at the rehearsal dinner tonight.

There’s a minibar in my room, under where a ginormous flatscreen TV hangs off the wall across from the bed, so I rummage around inside it to find something that looks good.

I decide on a prepackaged container of cheese and crackers as well as a bottle of water, then make myself comfortable on the king-sized bed again.

As I mindlessly snack, I admire the unnecessarily lavish and large room I’ve been set up in for the festivities. There’s a huge sliding glass door on one side of the room leading to a balcony that looks out to the Atlantic ocean, and if I didn’t have to spend my evening at the rehearsal dinner, I would love to sit out in the cool North Carolina air and watch the sunset.

The room is decorated in blacks and whites, with little gold accents making everything seem hella fucking classy, and I can’t help but feel out of place. If it wasn’t for the alcohol flowing through my veins and making me light, I would probably be having some weird culture shock.

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