Which I also ignored—probably because I was having sex with my almost-husband.
I can’t help but smile. For once, I don’t feel nervous or unsettled when I think about Perry. It actually seems…right that we’re doing this. Getting married.
My stomach swarms with butterflies as the importance of today dawns on me. I’m getting married.
Married.
By tonight, I’ll be known as Charlotte Constantine. This is a big deal.
Huge.
My smile fades. I hate that Seamus had to show up and taint the morning. I hate worse that Perry is speeding back toward the hotel, most likely worried sick about me.
Opening up my text messages, I send him a quick one.
Everything’s okay. My mother is with me. I’ll tell you what happened later.
There’s another knock on the door and I rush to answer it, looking through the peephole this time around.
“It’s the porter with my luggage,” Mother announces just as I visually confirm that she’s right. “The makeup artists and stylists are right behind me. They’ll be here any minute. Caroline and Tinsley will be here soon too.”
I open the door for the hotel employee who offers me a sheepish smile as he brings in the loaded bellman cart into the room. It’s going to turn chaotic in here in a matter of minutes and I can definitely guarantee I won’t get a chance to talk to Perry if he shows up—which he probably will. I won’t be able to explain everything that happened and I hate that.
I hate it.
“Go take a shower,” Mother demands once the porter leaves the room with his more than generous tip. “You need to get ready. But don’t wash your hair! It’ll be easier to work with if it’s a little bit dirty.”
“I washed it yesterday,” I say, in a daze as I walk over to my suitcase and open it to dig out the special bra and panty set I purchased just for tonight’s occasion—my wedding night. Sheer white fabric and lace that cost a fortune yet consists of basically nothing.
“And put on a robe when you’re finished with your shower. Lotion up! You don’t want any dry patches on your skin. If you’d like, I can come into the bathroom when you’re ready and help you lotion your back,” she suggests.
Ugh no. That’s the last thing I want. “It’s okay. I can do it.”
There’s another knock on the door and the back of my neck prickles with awareness.
I don’t know why, but I can sense that’s my future husband.
“I should get that,” I start but Mother puts a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“I’ll take care of it. You need to jump in the shower. Now,” she says as she steers me toward the bathroom.
Reluctantly I enter the bathroom but don’t quite close the door. I can hear the steady murmur of conversation between the two makeup artists. Someone’s phone is ringing—it might be mine, I’m not sure. I’m straining toward the open crack of the door, wishing I could see if it’s Perry who’s knocking, and when I hear his deep, reassuring voice, I’m about to go to him.
“Oh no,” Mother says and I can hear the displeasure in her tone. I hold my breath, waiting to see what she says. “You are the very last person who can come into this room.”
“I need to talk to Charlotte,” he says calmly, though I can practically feel the tension radiating off of him, filling the entire suite with his tense vibes. “Just for a moment.”
“The groom is not allowed to see the bride before the ceremony! You know this,” Mother chastises.
“Ma’am, that sort of thinking has been thrown out in recent years, since so many photographers like to take the wedding photos before the ceremony,” one of the makeup artists says.
The room goes silent. Even Perry isn’t talking.
I press my lips together to keep from laughing. I’m sure my mother didnotappreciate that remark.
“Let me in,” Perry demands, surprising me. Something heavy lands against the door and my mother yelps. I wonder if he’s trying to push past her. She’s pretty strong when she wants to be. “I need to know that Charlotte is all right.”
My heart squeezes. He’s worried about me.