Wearing My Halo Tilted (26 page)

I hoped she was right. “Let's get you inside. We've got a wedding to rehearse for,” I said.

Arm in arm, we walked into the majestic church to join the wedding party. I glanced around the room, trying to appear casual as I instinctively looked for Max. Though a part of me hated him, there was another part that at least wanted to make sure he was well. Maybe he'd come with someone—I certainly was curious.

“So,” I asked when my search turned up empty, “where's the best man? Shouldn't he be at this rehearsal thing?”

Eden took a deep breath and whispered, “He'll be in later tonight. Business held him up.”

Dion added, “I can't believe my best friend couldn't adjust his schedule enough to be here tonight.”

I'd always thought Dion was a bit of a mama's boy. I hoped marrying Eden would help him grow up. With his wavy rust-brown hair, soft coffee-colored eyes, and skin the shade of a slightly overripe banana peel, Dion was also a ladies' man.

“Don't worry, baby,” Eden said, rubbing his arm. “He'll be here tomorrow for the big day. You know that.”

As Dion leaned in to kiss Eden, the wedding coordinator ordered them to move to the front. The five other groomsmen and the bridesmaids were shown to our places.

During a break, the wedding coordinator introduced herself to me as Ms. Melba. She handed me my bridesmaid's dress. The cranberry velvet was beautiful, but the style looked like something one of Cinderella's stepsisters would wear. I could certainly never wear it to another event.

As the rehearsal continued, Ms. Melba wore herself out trying to get everyone to follow her instructions. She must have had us start over ten times. Not once did we stroll down the aisle to her specifications. After a couple of hours, she finally gave up and declared the group as ready as we were ever going to be.

The wedding party piled into cars and drove to a nearby steak house for the rehearsal dinner. A cute hostess escorted us to a back room, where at least fifty people were already seated—all friends and relatives of the bride and groom. The room was nothing fancy. The décor was typical steak house: dark lighting, booth seats, and brick walls.

Dion asked for a Scotch on the rocks as soon as he sat down, and he downed one drink after another all evening. I wondered why Eden didn't seem concerned or even annoyed by it. Then I remembered that her dad used to drink a lot, and Dion's father was a heavy drinker, too. I think that's what helped them to bond while we were in college. It was something that they had in common.

Eden's dad must have felt guilty about the very thing that bonded Dion to his daughter. After everyone arrived, he got up and had everyone raise their glasses for a toast. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry I wasn't the best daddy always. But I love you, girl, and I'm so happy for you.”

Eden's father kissed her cheek and bragged to the rest of us about what a wonderful wife she was going to make. Their embrace was warm, but left me feeling a little melancholy. Her dad might not have been perfect, but at least he was there.

I sat by Eden's mom, not wanting to engage in fake small talk with people I didn't know. She ordered the lamb, I decided on the pork chops, and pretty much everyone else asked for steak.

As we waited for the food to arrive, I noticed one of the groomsmen passing around a bottle of liquor under the table. By the time the meal was served, most of the guests were buzzed.

After dinner, I tried to get to Eden, but she was surrounded by friends and family, all chatting happily about her big day. Bored, I headed for the rest room.

As I approached the bathroom door, I heard whispered voices—a man and a woman. I rolled my eyes and stood there, not wanting to interrupt someone's secret tryst, but really needing to use the toilet. I lowered my eyes and pushed the door open an inch or two.

When I looked in I stifled a scream. Chyna had Dion pinned up against the corner wall. It took everything in me to hold back.

Chyna leaned in to Dion, her arms around his neck. “Are you sure you're ready to give up being a single man?” she crooned.

When Dion didn't respond, she kissed his cheek. “Even if you're set on getting hitched tomorrow, maybe we can have a little fun tonight. I'm in room 212. Maybe I can convince you to change your mind about getting married. At least to Eden, anyway.”

I could have ripped every strand of sandy-brown hair off her conniving head in two seconds. And my foot had some definite plans for Dion.

Then again, maybe there was a better plan. That fickle jerk wouldn't have to make a decision about whether or not to get married. With one word to Eden, I could stop the wedding myself.

As I started to ease the door closed, I heard Dion's voice. “Quit tripping, Chyna. You've been pulling this kind of stuff for a long time now, and it's got to stop. I'm about to get married to a woman I love, who's supposedly your friend. She cares about you a lot, you know. You just can't keep doing this. No more pushing me into bathrooms.”

“Fine,” Chyna seethed. “Fine.” She stormed toward the door, and I quickly ducked behind the tall greenery.

Dion came out behind her and walked past her without another word. She stared after him, probably hoping he'd turn around and give in to her. Disappointed, she stomped in my direction. I grabbed her tightly woven hair and yanked as hard as I could.

She dropped back a couple of feet, her eyes wide. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“No,” I answered, my fist still full of her hair. “You're the one who's crazy. Dion doesn't want you. He and Eden are happy together. If you want a man, get one that's not already taken.”

“Let go of me, Chris,” she cried, squirming.

I opened my clenched fingers and she grabbed her scalp. “I'm gonna be watching you, girl. If you even breathe in Dion's direction, I'll do a lot more than pull your hair.”

Chyna sighed and smoothed her hair. “Okay, so you caught me. But let's be clear—Dion followed me into the john. I still have a thing for the guy. If he had left me alone, those feelings probably would have stayed suppressed.”

“But I heard him telling you nothing's there,” I said.

She rubbed her brow. “Yeah, I heard him loud and clear on that one, too. Now I know where I stand. Eden gets the prize . . . if you can call him that.”

“What do you know that I don't about this guy?” I asked, trying to hear her out.

Chyna touched my shoulder. “Stuff you don't want to know.”

We held eye contact. When she let her hand slide from my shoulder to my hand, I knew she was also concerned for Eden. I looked away.

“Eden totally knows him. She wants to marry him, and maybe they will be okay,” she said, tightening our grasp.

I glared at her for a moment, then nodded as we let go. She headed back to the group and I went to use the rest room.

 

 

Once I left the ladies' room, I finally got Eden's attention. “Any after-dinner plans?”

Eden grinned at me. “I'm headed back to the hotel. If I can't get any sleep tonight, I might just come over for some late-night girl talk. Would that be okay?”

“Sure, I'd like that,” I said.

We drove separate cars to the hotel, then hugged in the lobby and went to our rooms. When a knock on my door woke me up at three-thirty, I wasn't a bit surprised. I knew Eden needed me.

I dragged myself to the door, pulled open the chain, and unlocked the dead bolt. But when I opened the door, there stood Max, looking everso-fine in a maroon turtleneck sweater and loose-fitting black jeans. What was I gonna do now? Slam the door—or explore?