Chapter 32

Emma

For the third time in the past minute, I reminded myself to breathe.

It wasn’t a big deal, just a job interview for a cushy position in a consulting firm. Granted, it was a firm I couldn’t even remember applying to and a job that I was undoubtedly unqualified for, but still. I was going to be fine. If I didn’t get it, no big deal. I wanted to stick with more creative stuff anyway, didn’t I?

I took another breath. In. Out.

It had been a week since my last day at Goodman-Westfield and I hadn’t had any other bites on my resume yet. Much as I told myself this wasn’t a big deal, it was kind of a big deal. I needed to start earning income soon.

I straightened my blouse again, unnecessarily so, then grabbed my keys and purse, and was out the door. The company’s head office was in a swanky building in downtown Manhattan, not too far from where I’d been working only a week before. It was almost like going home.

I couldn’t help but think about Max the entire subway ride downtown. I wished I was heading back to his building instead, and that I could walk right back in like I’d been on a long coffee run and nobody would be the wiser. But there was a new person sitting at my desk now, a young woman named Farah who I tried not to be too jealous of when I was training her. She was sweet and clever, and would probably be a great personal assistant to Max. I knew I had no claim over him anymore, but all the same I hoped that a personal assistant was all she would be.

I re-straightened my blouse. Again. Staring up at the glass skyscraper, I gulped. Over the past week, the stress of not having a job had been getting to me. Not quite as much as the angst of not having Max had been getting to me, but the two together combusted into something quite desperate indeed. Because of that, this whole situation felt very life or death.

I lowered my gaze and prepared to walk through the revolving front doors, only to see Willow blocking my path. She was grinning from ear to ear, and I frowned as I approached.

“Are you here to wish me well?” I asked.

She laughed and grabbed my arm, tugging me in the opposite direction. “Not exactly.”

I struggled against her grip. “Hey! I’ve got a job interview in ten minutes. What are you doing?”

“I need you to trust me,” Willow said, still dragging me down the street. “Can you do that?”

I stopped resisting and starting walking alongside her. She still didn’t let go of my hand, and in fact squeezed it harder than ever.

“Willow, tell me what’s going on.”

“What’s going on,” Willow said, pulling me to the curb in front of a big black limo, “is that you’re getting in that limo.”

The driver got out when he saw us and walked around the back, opening the door. Willow waved impatiently toward it.

“Come on, girl. We don’t have all day.”

I took one last look at the building I was leaving behind and groaned. “Fine. But you better tell me what’s going on once we get inside.”

Willow did not tell me what was going on when we got inside. In fact, she stayed irritatingly silent as she uncorked a champagne bottle and poured me a glass.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew that Willow didn’t have this kind of money, which only left one question—where was all of this coming from?

“Willow,” I said. “Does this have something to do with Max?”

She spilled a little of the champagne as she handed it to me, wincing. “It’s a surprise.”

“Willow...” I lowered my voice but accepted the glass all the same. I needed a drink. I’d been on one roller coaster ride of a day so far and suspected it wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

“It’s a surprise,” she persisted. “You’ll ruin it if you keep asking me questions. You know I’m not a great liar.”

“Which is why I’m asking you in the first place,” I muttered bitterly.

Willow laughed and tipped back her head as she drank more of the champagne. I watched out the window, looking for clues. If this did have something to do with Max, then why was Willow involved? And what was up with the limo?

“Did you fabricate a job interview to get me out here today?” I asked.

Willow’s only response was a mischievous grin. I sighed.

The ride only got more confusing when we arrived at our destination.

“We’re here!” Willow announced cheerily while we waited for the driver to come open the door.

I peered out the window, not quite believing my eyes. “The Fulton?” I asked. “What are we doing here?”

“You really don’t understand the concept of a surprise, do you?”

I glared sourly at her.

The Fulton Hotel was an elegant, art deco building that had stayed relatively untouched in terms of style since the 1920s. I picked it out when I first moved to New York as the dream venue for my dream wedding. Everything about it, from the golden geometric patterned lights to the sumptuous maroon carpeting spoke of old world glamor. They had a gorgeous honeymoon suite too, one I would kill to spend the night in. Especially if it meant I got to have my dream wedding beforehand, too.

Willow and I stepped out onto the sidewalk and she grabbed my hand again, pulling me through the front doors. My head swiveled this way and that as I struggled to take in the hotel’s opulence, wanting to commit as much of it to memory as possible. I didn’t know when I would get another chance to do so. The fact that I was even inside the building was a dream come true.

Willow stopped in front of the elevator and we stepped inside. She punched the button for the fourth floor and swayed back and forth on her heels as we ascended.

“When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

I was starting to get impatient now. This whole journey had been overwhelming to say the least, and I feared that my imagination was going to make a fool out of me if I didn’t put a stop to it soon. Visions of Max in a black tux, waiting downstairs by an altar wrapped in golden vines danced through my head.

“The thing about surprises is that you find out when you’re supposed to find out,” she said. “And not a second before.”

I groaned, “You’re killing me.”

“Well you’re going to love me in a minute, so I wouldn’t say anything you’ll regret.” She winked.

The doors slid open and Willow grabbed my hand again, practically bounding down the corridor. She lurched to a stop in front of one of the rooms, digging in her purse and producing a keycard. After unlocking the door, she thrust it open dramatically and all but pushed me inside.

My confusion churned, turning into something else. Disbelief. Excitement. Anxiety.

I wanted to believe that the scene in front of me was real, but I was afraid that if I did it would all disappear into a gust of smoke.

Paulina Westfield was lounging on a chaise by a long, sun-soaked window overlooking the opposite hotel. She had a glass of champagne in one hand, and she used the other to beckon me closer.

It wasn’t Paulina that had me so concerned, though. It was the garment rack positioned next to her, or rather the white gown hanging from it.

I rushed forward, not even saying a word of greeting to Paulina before my hands clutched at the lace and silk dream in front of me.

“Oh my God...” I ran my palms down the length of it, smooth beading gliding over my skin. “This is... this is my wedding dress.”

The words didn’t even start to sink in until a few seconds after I’d said them. So, I said them again.

“This is my wedding dress!”

Not only did I now understand that all this cloak and dagger nonsense had been to surprise me with my dream wedding in my dream venue, but this was also my dream wedding dress. A sweetheart neckline, lace cap sleeves, and a tight-fitting bodice with an A-line skirt. Pnina Tornai. Expensive as hell.

It was my dress. The dress I never thought I’d end up owning, but had salivated over anyway, because it was something to do.

“We had to conference with the Pnina ourselves,” Paulina drawled, rising to her feet. “It was not easy to get it done in such a condensed amount of time, so if it doesn’t fit properly, I’m afraid it will have to do.”

“Have to do?” I repeated, turning to her with wide eyes. “I would walk down the aisle in this dress even if it was so tight I couldn’t move. This is incredible!”

I flung my arms wide and gathered Paulina into a massive hug before she had a chance to scuttle away. She weakly embraced me, taking a sip of champagne over my shoulder.

I released her and turned to Willow, who’d followed me into the room and was now standing just behind me.

“You did this? I’m confused.”

“I did nothing,” Willow said. “Except provide a little expertise where I could. And kidnap you today, obviously.” She smiled, “It was all Max, Em. He found your Pinterest board.”

“That boy is a hopeless romantic,” Paulina said, airily. “He gets it from his mother of course.”

My chest bubbled with excitement. I still couldn’t believe all this was happening. Even though the facts and proof were in front of me, I half-expected Max to be missing in action by the time I got downstairs.

“You need to start getting ready,” Willow said. “I just texted the stylists and told them to come up. You should probably go hop in the shower.”

“This is happening now?” I asked. “Like today?”

I didn’t know why they would pull me in here with so much drama if it were happening tomorrow, but it was still too surreal for me to digest.

All the feelings that I’d been trying to suppress for Max burst in my chest like fireworks. Tears sprang to my eyes and Willow wrapped me into a hug before I started blubbering like a crazy person right in front of my soon-to-be husband’s mother.

“If you want this, it’s happening now,” she murmured, rubbing my back. “But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

She was confusing my crying for hesitation, which was understandable. But the second I realized that it was the day of my wedding, I knew there was no place I’d rather be.

“No. I want to be here,” I told her. “Now let go of me. There’s a lot of work to do, and if I’m getting married today, I’m gonna need some time to shave my legs.”