Bonus Chapter: One

I don’t have long until she finds me. Delia can smell weakness like a shark can smell blood in the water. Honestly, I would rather face a shark than my mom.

In fact, I would rather crash in the Bermuda Triangle and come face to face with a hungry school of sharks, who devour my entire lower body, than go back out into the horde of socialites my mother has convened for my bridal brunch.

I am truly shocked to see that so many actually attended today. Most of these women will only leave Manhattan a few times a year, meaning traveling to Connecticut must feel absolutely provincial. How Delia convinced them to attend should be studied, but I’m beginning to think it had less to do with Delia’s powers of persuasion and is more about the rabid spectacle over my fiance.

My fiance.

My.

Fiance.

We got engaged seventeen months ago on a blissful October afternoon, right before my birthday. It was one of those autumnal days where the golden light drifts through amber leaves and convinces you that the world will always remain this perfect.

Surprise to no one….it hasn’t.

While Delia and Charles were reticent when they first met Jet shortly after my graduation, they quickly adopted him as their odd, but adorable son. We had planned on simply embracing a hermit-like existence, but that was rejected by my Mother who knew the public would ignore the obvious truths about Jet if we sold them an idea.

When she discovered Jet’s surprising artistic side, the story of an impassioned visual artist who hid himself within his art was born. Delia made him her protege and within six months, she was opening his first art installation. Thankfully, the world believed it all, applauding the genius future son-in-law and ensuring that we could live a semi-normal life.

Unfortunately, it also unleashed a kind of crazy that none of us were prepared for.

Paparazzi began to hound Delia and Charles’s condo building hoping to catch sight of Jet outside of his “elaborate costume.” When we escaped to our cabin, drones started to hover above the trees leaving us on edge.

That is until Dr. V arrived with some interesting equipment that probably wasn’t legal. We only lost a few trees and although he promised there would be zero lasting effects, there is still a strange glow by the road.

The drones did stop, so I’m taking it as an overall win.

However, dealing with all of that and the wedding has my nerves shot.

The country club is strictly non-smoking or else I would be breaking out the emergency stash in my purse. The only thing that would out my hiding spot faster than my weakness is loud haze, because Delia would be on me in an instant.

The closet door bangs open almost like my thoughts summoned the woman. Delia feels along the wall, flipping on the light.

Before I can begin to focus against the brightness, she hisses, “What exactly are you doing on the floor? That dress is Valentino and Valentino does not belong on utility closet floors!”

“It belongs on the floor when this is the only safe place in the building from overly invasive and disgusting questions.”

“There is never a reason Valentino should touch the floor. Also, who would say anything questionable?”

“I came here for a breather after Mrs. Belmont and Mrs. Heuston cornered me! Do you know what they asked me? Mrs. Belmont wanted to know how hard it was to take off Jet’s suit and then Mrs. Heuston went into great detail about how she couldn’t wait to undress Mr. Heuston after their wedding! I am not equipped to deal with that, Mom!”

“Please! Everyone knows Josh Heuston has been in a 20 year long relationship with a certain Republican Congressman. She’s just overselling her role as his beard because that prenup means none of them can live authentically.”

“You are missing the point here, Delia. The point is I am not going to discuss my sex life with Jet, because no one is ready for that kind of authenticity.”

Pausing, she sweeps the red locks of her short shag wig behind her ear. “You’re right. That probably is a topic we should avoid. It still doesn’t excuse sitting on the floor in Valentino,” she utters with a withering look.

I can only close my eyes briefly as I inhale, trying to find my calm before standing. “Fine. I’m off the floor, but I’m not going back out there. Mainly because none of them are here to see me.”

“Whatever do you mean? It's your brunch? You’re the bride and they’re all here to celebrate you,” she huffs.

“Noooo…they’re all here to glimpse at the sensation, so that they can all compete for a chance to own one of Jet’s pieces. Do you know three different women I talked to who didn't even realize I was a professional photographer?”

A look of shock flickers over her face as she whispers,“I was not expecting this kind of jealousy from you, Lydia? I thought you were happy about Jet’s accomplishments.”

I release an exhale, dropping my head against the wall behind me. “I’m not jealous, Mom. I am happy that he loves making beautiful things. I just wasn’t prepared for all the spectacle. I also wasn’t prepared to be a secondary character at my own wedding. Did you know that when I mentioned doing a shoot for Rolling Stone, Mrs. Belmont asked me when I was going to start focusing on my career? Rolling Stone, Mom!”

“Yes. Well, given that she’s wearing matching Patou today, we really shouldn’t judge her lack of taste.”

“Delia, you live to judge.”

“Today, I live to hold this wedding, so please pull yourself together and meet me back out there. Put on some lipstick and…”

Before she can finish her latest command a large shadow appears directly behind her, blocking the light from the hall and silencing her.

“Are you ok, Lydia?” comes in a deep rumble.

“JET!” I almost shout as I bolt across the small space, pushing around Delia, and crash into his chest. I bury my face into the soft knit sweater he’s wearing, inhaling his sugar sweet scent. “What are you doing here?” I say on the exhale although it's probably impossible to understand with the way I have my face smashed into him.

“You accidentally called me about thirty minutes ago. It didn’t sound like you were doing well, so I came to see if I needed to save you.”

I’m nodding my head, face still smothered, “I definitely need saving.”

With an exaggerated sign, Delia reminds me that she’s still unfortunately in the closet with me. “You do not need saving, Lydia. You need to go back out to our guests and show them all that you are a happy, excited bride.”

Turning in Jet’s arms, I look at her in the eyes, ready to negotiate, “Can I be the happy, excited bride in thirty minutes? Until then, can I be the messy bride hugging her fiance in a closet?”

Her eyes squint and I know I’ve got her, “You have ten. Any longer than that and I will let them all know Jet is here and taking commissions.”

“That’s just evil, Mom, but I’ll accept those conditions.”

“Fine. Don’t make me follow through,” she snaps, walking towards the door. Before she exits, she turns, locking eyes with me, “and remember, that’s Valentino. No more sitting on the floor,” slamming the door for emphasis.

Looking at Jet, I smirk. “I don’t know about you, but I just heard we have twenty minutes and the dress has to come off.”