Ten minutes. Jesus. That meant about fifteen minutes until he blew his grandmother’s mind in an effort to surprise his bride.
Myles shoved both hands through his hair.
“Can I have a minute alone with my son?”
“Sure thing. See you up there, buddy.” Tucker headed out, followed by Brody.
Augusta reached out and smoothed her hands along his shoulders and down his lapels. “You look so handsome in your tux.”
“I suppose I clean up pretty well. Was there something you wanted to tell me, Mom?”
“I just wanted to see my baby one last time before he got married.” She squeezed his hands. “I’m really proud of you, Myles. I’m proud of the fact that you fought for your dream. I know you haven’t heard that enough from us, and I’m sorry for that. The fact is, you’ve grown into such an amazing man. And I’m so pleased that you’ve found an equally amazing woman who believes in you so completely. Piper’s lovely and she’ll be a good partner for you. That’s so important in a marriage.”
What would she say if she knew they’d been together only two weeks?
“Piper is...one of a kind. She’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know, and I can only hope to one day really deserve her.”
Augusta frowned. But before she could say anything else, Skye stuck her head in the door.
“It’s time!”
Myles exhaled a slow breath. Show time.
He escorted his mom and sister to the elevator. “I need to move. I’m gonna take the stairs.”
On his way down the hall, the door to the bride’s suite started to open. Miranda peered out. “Nope! Coast is not clear! Keep her back.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Breaking into a trot, he made for the stairwell, letting the door slap shut behind him. For a moment, he just stood in the cool concrete tower. Then he climbed the last flight to the roof.
Holy shit.
When Brody had said standing room only, he wasn’t kidding. The hanging gardens inspired by the hotel’s namesake were packed with guests. Myles felt his heart kick, his pulse a driving timpani beat in his ears. How was he even going to hear the music?
Tucker broke from where he stood at the periphery, waiting to head up to the altar.
“Breathe,” he ordered. “None of these people are important. They’re just props.”
“Props,” Myles repeated. He sucked in a few ragged breaths, then nodded. “Props.”
They headed up front together. Brody and Grady were waiting.
His brother offered a hand. “Congratulations, big brother. You’ve clearly got better taste in women than I do.”
“Goes without saying.” But Myles softened the words with a smile. “Thanks.”
Margot, the events coordinator for The Babylon, said something into a headset. She gave a hand signal and whatever music Gram had picked for the seating of the grandmothers and parents began to play. She’d had a bit of a fit that it was recorded rather than a live string quartet, but they’d needed the space for guest seating. Myles was too nervous to actually listen to it. This was the last part of Gram’s plan that would go entirely to script.
Gram looked beautiful and stately in a pale blue suit, her snow white hair catching the rays of the setting sun as she strolled, ruler-straight down the aisle. Piper’s grandmothers, whom he’d met very briefly at the rehearsal dinner, followed. Then came his mother. Then Twyla. Then the song ended.
When another didn’t immediately begin, Myles saw Margot hiss something into the headset. Whatever answer came back absolutely flummoxed her, and he couldn’t help but smile. To his left, he heard the clear tone of Tucker’s pitch pipe.
In the audience, Gram’s attention shot to Tucker with a murderous glare. All around her, audience members shifted and straightened, waiting for the prearranged signal.
Oh man, she was gonna hate this.
Myles grinned and the first clear voices rang out in acapella harmony. He added his own on the bass line and waited for the doors to open.
~*~