For the rest of the night, I don’t get any shut eye. Instead, I just pace around the tiny cell.

  Early in the morning, I am being processed and when they finally find out who I am, I am released immediately. I call Bruce and it takes another hour until he finally shows up with the biggest grin I have ever seen on him.

  “Well, well, well, brother,” he says, looking at the bruises around my wrists and the cut on my forehead. “I guess it was only a matter of time for you to end up here, after all those scandals you’ve gotten yourself into the last couple of months.”

  “I called the wrong brother, didn’t I? Couldn’t you have sent one of your assistants to pick me up?”

  “And miss all of this?” He motions me up and down. “Not a chance. Hold on, let me take a picture of you. Wait, do you guys have a mug shot?” he asks the officer behind the counter. “I’ll have it printed on actual mugs and give them out at the office.”

  “I’m gonna have to stay here if I murder him right now, won’t I?” I think out loud, which the officer answers with a disinterest nod. I grab the plastic bag that contains my belt, shoe strings, empty wallet, and opened pack of condoms. After all, there’s no time to waste. “Your jet?”

  “It’s being prepared as we speak,” Bruce answers when we make our way to his limousine. “And stop being so grumpy. You’re not heading to work. You have the weekend off for the first time in months, presumably. Enjoy yourself a little.”

  All that elicits from me is a low grumble. Enjoying myself is how I got here in the first place.

  “Fine, suit yourself. Oh, and speaking of suit, here are the pants you requested over the phone. Had to make two stops on the way to find them.” He hands me a big, expensive-looking bag once we’re inside the car. “Julio, take us to the airport, please.”

  “Thank you. But you didn’t have to get something that fancy. Any dress pants would have sufficed, really.” I open the bag and pull out a pair of pink pajama pants with little white pompoms on strings for a belt.

  “It’s the new collection. Everyone is wearing them these days.” He laughs as I detach the Dollar Store price tag and exchange orange for pink.

  That’s what I get for calling my brother to my rescue.

  “I should beat you up and steal your pants.” I grumble a little more. “You’re lucky that pink suits me.”

  Bruce is thoroughly entertained, despite my threats to drink his most expensive Scotch on the plane. I have to admit, it surprises me a little that he isn’t angry. Usually, my brother is even more concerned about our company than I am. Maybe he hasn’t quite grasped the possible ramifications of this yet.

  His driver takes us straight onto the tarmac, where his private jet is already waiting. We hug goodbye, I let him know I owe him one, and I am finally off to the island where the wedding is taking place. The pilot assures me that, thanks to the time-difference, he should be able to get me there just in time for the ceremony, and, once at altitude, I fall asleep immediately. Unfortunately, the flight is over before I actually feel rested. What’s even worse is, I don’t have time to take a shower before the landing.

  As soon as we make it off the runway, I get in a cab and head straight for the wedding venue, not sure whether I am already too late. Phoenix is probably worried and wondering where his best man could be.

  It takes less than 30 minutes on a much too narrow and winding road along the coast to reach the little chapel that is overlooking the ocean. The guests appear to have already congregated inside, as the only people I discover are servers with trays of champagne and canapés.

  “That will be $72, please,” the cab driver says and flashes me a grin.

  “Right… money.” I look through the window to try and find someone familiar. “Here,” I hand him my plastic prison bag, “please keep this as a deposit. I will be back with your payment in a minute.”

  I can’t believe the bullshit I am going through today, and all because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself and my dick in my pants. From now on, there will be no more distractions. Nothing. No fucking women whatsoever.

  Stepping, or rather vaulting out of the cab, I knock my head on its frame and stumble over my own two feet like an idiot.

  God, this is the worst day of my life. It’s as if the universe is treating me like a practice run for a cosmic comedy show.

  I rush inside and immediately discover the groom standing at the altar. He is talking to his grandma, who is supposed to officiate the wedding. Luckily, the bride is nowhere to be seen. It would appear I have made it just in time and a Jabali-shaped load disappears off my mind.

  That’s at least something. I didn’t miss the most important part. Maybe this day is about to get a little better.

  I walk down the aisle towards my best friend, who turns to face me just when I reach him. Phoenix grabs me by the shoulders, holding me in place to give me a thorough inspection, from the dark circles under my eyes to the bold choice of fashion I had no choice but to wear.

  “Not now,” I say before he can ask. “You wouldn’t have 72 bucks in that dapper tux of yours, would you?”

  Phoenix stares at me without a word until his grandma comes to my rescue. She fumbles in the cleavage of her dress and produces a few folded-up bills that she hands me with a gentle grin.

  “You are not my type, Ryker Grayson, which is why I’ll spare you the dirty joke about having to pay me back later,” Nana explains in the most charming Scottish accent and presses a smooch on my cheek to say hello. “Just know that I will cut you if you don’t.” She gives me a wink and sits down on the chair by the altar as I walk back outside to pay the driver.

  Just as I return, a quiet melody lets everyone know the ceremony is about to begin. Phoenix gives me a big hug before I take my place by his side. Then our eyes are fixed on the giant double door where his fiancée, Olivia, is about to make her entrance.

  “So,” I whisper to the groom as we stare straight ahead and I can finally relax for the first time in two days, “since I missed yesterday, I’ll just skip to the stereotypical questions, which, according to all the movies I’ve seen, one is supposed to ask in situations like this: any second thoughts?”

  The corner of Phoenix’s mouth lifts slightly while his head begins to nod. “Yes, indeed,” he says. “Second thoughts, third thoughts, fourth and fifth⁠—”

  The music picks up as the door opens and Olivia, accompanied by her dad, slowly steps inside.

  “…and they’re all about her. All my thoughts, every single one.” A tear rolls down his cheek as I hear a hauntingly familiar voice let out a gushing ‘Ohhhhh’.

  4

  SIENNA

  Iwave at Mr. Handsome In Pretty Pink Pants and give him my brightest smile. He does not reciprocate. Instead, he just stares at me as if he has seen a pants-stealing ghost. I would kill to be able to read his mind. From the looks of it, he is going through all the emotions available to him, which range from slightly annoyed to severely pissed, in the span of a few seconds while blood is slowly dripping down his forehead.

  Since he apparently hasn’t noticed it himself yet, I try to let him know by pointing at my own head. In response, he narrows his eyes and pretends to scratch his nose while subtly flipping me off.

  Figures.

  I guess it might have looked like I was telling him that he isn’t right in the head —and although that would definitely be correct— this is neither the time nor the place. So, in trying to take care of my bridesmaidly duties, I tear a piece of cloth from my dress, sneak over to my newfound one-night-stand nemesis, and try to wipe away the blood. His eyes are still focused on me, which I (unsuccessfully) attempt to ignore.

  “What happened?” I whisper while suppressing my grin, and, unintentionally, smudging the blood all over his frowny forehead. Dress fabric really isn’t made for medical emergencies.

  “You…” he growls, grabs my wrist and pushes it away. Then he takes the handkerchief from his suit pocket and wipes himself clean. I sneak back to my spot before Olivia reaches us.

  He looks just as arrogant, and annoying, and angelic as the last time I saw him. There aren’t many people who can pull off the pink-pajama-pants-look, but somehow, he seems to make it work. He looks attractive in a sort of adorably rugged way. Then again, maybe it’s just the fresh wound that gives him this dangerously seductive air, or maybe it’s just my misguided libido again. I should ask Olivia if they invited any eligible single doctors who could take a look at me (and, if absolutely necessary, at his wound).

  The sun, drenching everything in a beautiful pink hue, sets in the background, and the ceremony pans out just like planned… I think. I may be a little distracted by my new nemesis, but I am pretty sure that Nana is giving a speech even more moving than the one from yesterday’s rehearsal.

  In the meantime, I am busy holding eye contact with the best man. Except, while other people might eye-fuck, we eye-fight, and you don’t even need David Attenborough to tell you that I am winning.

  I wonder what happened to him. There is probably a good story to those pants, that wound, and the slight limp he had when walking in here. It would almost appear that the universe actually came through this time and dealt more than appropriate punishment (partly thanks to me, I suppose). Too bad that it had to be Phoenix’s best man. I’ve known Phoenix for almost three years now and he isn’t the kind of guy to have a friend like him. Much less a best friend like him.

  Loud applause makes me snap out of my daydreams when Olivia and Phoenix finally kiss. After they walk back down the aisle, I turn to see my nemesis extend his arm for Nana to help her down the stairs. Outside, we congregate around the happy couple, toast to their holy matrimony and eventually end up back at the hotel that they rented out for all their guests.

  I still haven’t told Olivia anything about what happened to me in the last two days, not wanting to distract from her big day, but for some nefarious reason I am dying to tattle on Mr. Handsome With Ever So Slightly Better Manners Than I Thought.

  Eventually, while Olivia and I share a drink, we are joined by Phoenix and—yep, you guessed who. My pulse immediately shoots through the roof, making me think I might need that doctor sooner rather than later.

  “Well,” Phoenix begins the introduction in his usual calm tone, “we have been meaning to get the both of you together for forever now. My wife,” he presses a kiss onto Olivia’s cheek, “insists that you two would get along great.”

  “They’re basically the same person,” Olivia adds with a smile before Phoenix continues.

  “Sienna, this is⁠—”

  “Ryker Grayson, best man,” Ryker says with a deceptively charming, and definitely fake, smile.

  “Best is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” I reply under my breath and shake his hand. “Could it be that I’ve seen you without pants before?”

  Ryker’s smile turns dark, and he squeezes my hand a little harder than necessary. I can feel the tension run through his skin and into my own.

  “Can’t say I remember you,” he answers. “Which is odd because I have a memory like an elephant.”

  “You mean like a pink elephant?” I peer down at his pants.

  “Do you two know each other?” Olivia interrupts with a frown on her face. “Because if you do, you have to tell me. I plan on being the mandatory meddling fairy godmother to your blossoming… whatever this is.” She motions at our hands that, for some incomprehensible reason, are still embracing each other, with me now unsuccessfully trying to out-squeeze him.

  “No,” Ryker and I answer in unison and finally let go of each other.

  “Ohhh,” Olivia exhales and hooks into Phoenix’s arm. “Look, they’re already in perfect sync. Told you they’d make a good⁠—”

  “I know this is your wedding day, honey,” I cut Olivia off, “but you better stop talking now because I am not afraid to⁠—”

  “Steal her wedding dress?” Ryker butts in entirely unprovoked, forcing me to give him a warning glance from the side.

  By now, Olivia’s smile has grown so big I worry her face might get stuck in that position. “I am a staunch supporter of… that which I may not talk about,” she says with glee, while clapping her hands together, “but you can just have my wedding dress. No need to steal it, honey. And speaking of dresses, I think it’s time for me to change into something a little more comfortable and casual. Can you give me a hand, Sienna?”

  “And I could use something a little less comfortable and a little more… clean.” Ryker looks down at himself and then towards the newlywed husband who is nodding understandingly.

  “I have so many questions,” Phoenix echoes my own thoughts, and leads us towards the presidential suite that they are staying in.

  When we get there, Olivia and I disappear into the bathroom, where I help her out of the dress. My eyes are fixed on the door, behind which the two men are presumably looking for a change of clothes for Ryker, but I can tell that Olivia is dying to drill me with questions.

  “Are you really gonna make me ask?” she finally says when she slides into an adorable cocktail dress.

  I love her and usually we do tell each other everything, but again, this isn’t the time or the place. I close her zipper and check my makeup in the mirror. “There’s nothing to tell. Besides, it’s your wedding day. You shouldn’t focus on whatever you’re reading into this situation, you should focus on yourself and that hot, wedding-ring-wearing hunk of cinnamon roll out there.”

  “Thanks, Sien,” Phoenix’s voice echoes outside the door.

  Olivia gives me an understanding look. “Fine,” she says as we step out, “I guess you’re right. This is my day and I should do whatever I want.”

  “Exactly,” I reply and almost walk into Ryker, whose broad shoulders are standing just outside the door and in my way, not even pretending to politely move aside for me to pass.

  Olivia takes her husband by the hand, then they make their way back to the entrance with me in tow, and I can’t wait to get out of this room and far away from that guy.

  “Ah, wait,” she suddenly turns to me. “Could you grab me my cardigan from the closet? I don’t want to catch a cold.”

  “Of course,” I answer and turn around, only to see Ryker’s eyes still fixed on me. In response, I stick my tongue out and immediately want to throw myself off the balcony behind him.

  What the fuck was that? Did I just turn into a freaking teenager? It’s like my brain won’t function properly as soon as that heartless tyrant is around.

  Ryker raises one brow. “Are you always this gullible?” he asks, shakes his head and vanishes into the bathroom.

  “Are you always this presumptuous?” I retort, wondering what he means.

  A second later, both the bathroom door and the door to the room close simultaneously. Keys turn in the respective locks.

  Oh, no.

  “Olivia!” I rush back to the door. “Don’t you dare!”

  “It’s my day,” she replies. “I should do whatever I want. Your words, not mine. Well, kind of. Anyway, I’ll let you out once you two get along. No fighting, no bickering, no⁠—”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

  “Fucking and kidding is allowed. That’s actually a pretty unbeatable combination,” Phoenix says before Olivia continues. “I will check in on you in an hour.”

  Their steps outside grow more and more quiet until they’re gone, and I am stuck in a room with Ryker aRe yoU aLWaYs ThIs gulLiblE Grayson.

  For the record, I am not. It’s just… him. He’s to blame for this.

  I wonder what kind of hotel room still uses normal keys as I rattle the knob. There’s no way to get through the door without breaking it down, so, naturally, I walk over to the balcony to check whether I could survive a jump. The cliff beneath it makes me think I shouldn’t try, but then again, it might be the better option.

  A few minutes later, a freshly showered Mr. Handsome With Seductively Wet Hair steps out of the bathroom and sighs. “Locked us in, did she?”

  I grumble in an attempt to speak his language.

  “Balcony too high for an escape?”

  Another grumble emanates from my throat making me worried his grumpiness might have already rubbed off on me. I don’t like it.

  Ryker grumbles back in response and an obvious attempt to mock me.

  Behave yourself, I think. Don’t stoop down to his level.

  “If I threw you off first, your body might be able to cushion my fall.”

  Unlikely. His muscles look like they’re made of steel. They wouldn’t cushion anything.

  “If you wanna jump on me,” he lets himself fall back onto the bed, “we can just do that right here.”

  Again with the cockiness. He’s probably not used to people telling him no.

  “Oh, I’d like to jump you, alright. I just don’t carry my favorite shank to weddings. So it’ll have to wait.”

  Both of us sigh at the same time, followed by more eye-to-eye combat.

  This is going to be a long day.

  I stroll around the room and spy into drawers, hoping Olivia might have stored a lock-picking set somewhere. Instead, in her nightstand, I find condoms and lube, and I quickly close the drawer again. That would be the last thing I need right now.

  Ryker is still lying on the bed, his chest steadily moving up and down, his giant hands resting on top. “So,” he eventually grunts, his eyes following me around the room, “what’s your deal then?”

  “No deals for you,” I reply without thinking. “You’ll pay full-price from now on.”

  Ryker’s brief laugh fills the room and then my confused chest or belly. It’s hard to tell. Maybe I ate something wrong.

  “Don’t,” I shut him down before he can reply. “Any prostitute jokes would not be well-received right now.”

  He grunts again, but this time it’s like he’s stifling a laugh with a deep frequency radiating from his chest. “Okay, pretty woman. I’ll forgo the joke and in return you’ll answer my question: What is your deal? Why are you like this? Why are you… the way you are?”

  I think about it for a second.