Page 2 of Ruthless In A Suit

When I’ve finally found myself back on solid ground, my cheeks warm, my fingers begin their slow descent until I have his hardness in my grip.

“Now we really will be late,” he says, though I can tell he’s seriously trying to buy himself some time. “We will return to this, though.”

“Damn right,” I say, giving him a squeeze before I turn and saunter towards the door. I don’t have to look. I know his eyes are on my ass, which sways lazily as I walk in these heels. Then I turn and glance over my shoulder. “You’re next.”

* * *

By the timewe finally get down to the wedding, we’re mere minutes away from the start of the ceremony.

Levi leads me down through a lobby area full of antique furniture and clapboard coffee tables, a roaring fire in a two-story stone fire place blazing despite the sunny spring day. We head toward the French doors that lead out to the patio where the ceremony will be held, and just before we make it, I glimpse a flash of white.

His friend Julia is already in place just outside the French doors that overlook the travertine tile of the patio, which has a backdrop of a crystal blue sky abutting the sapphire waves of the Atlantic.

The day couldn’t be more picturesque if someone painted it from their imagination.

Julia is a vision in her wedding dress, a simple, heavy silk gown with an A-line skirt, a V-neck, and delicate embroidery around the waist. Her blond hair is pulled back from her face, and a gauzy lace veil is perched on the back of her head, cascading down behind her.

It’s the kind of simple yet exquisite bridal look that you just know cost at least six figures and was likely made just for her by the actual Vera Wang, and not someone working in her factory.

Julia looks like European royalty with her blond hair and ice blue eyes, her milky white skin and her little ski slope nose. If France still had a monarchy, Julia would be their Queen. Just from looking at her, I imagine Logan to look like a Ken doll meetings Prince William (before he lost his hair). I’ve never seen anything like the life I’m experiencing so far at the Radnor Estate.

I feel like Levi has opening a door to a whole new world and is serving as my escort to show it all to me.

Levi tries to duck through the doors undetected, pulling me along after him, but Julia gets one look at him, arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow, and calls out to him.

“Levi Maxon, don’t you think for one second that we’re not going to talk about you nearly missing this wedding.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks with cocky self-assuredness.

“I’ll find you at the reception,” she says, gesturing with her heavy bouquet of pale pink peonies. “Now get your ass to your seat so we can get this show on the road.”

She smooths the front of her dress, which was definitely not in need of it. Everything about her is perfect, down to the fact that I don’t even want to hate her because of it. She seems genuinely cool and funny and self-assured, on top of being rich and gorgeous.

“It’s time to finally marry that idiot.” She smiles, and I can tell it’s said with all the love in the world.

“Don’t you mean your soul mate?” Levi says, with more than a little sarcasm.

“That’s what I said,” she winks.

We take our seats near the back, though that doesn’t stop every eye in the crowd from turning to take us in when we step onto the patio. There are more than a few whispers and mutters scattered throughout the crowd, and I know something about Levi being here, maybe even being here with me, is big news in this scene.

I wonder if Levi has a reputation that precedes him. I could certainly venture a guess as to what it might be.

I imagine him kissing a tall, gorgeous, leggy model type and find my stomach clenching with jealousy.

Which of course makes me wonder what in the hell he’s doing with me.

“I hate weddings,” Levi mutters under his breath.

“I’ve never been to one like this,” I reply, gazing around at all the women in their elegant spring pastels, the men in their navy and gray suits. How did they all get the memo to dress like that? While I wouldn’t put it past someone like Julia to issue a dress code with her invitation, something tells me this is all just custom amongst a crowd like this.

Levi looks at me sideways, but before he can say anything, a string quartet begins to play something sweet and vaguely familiar, and the French doors open for real this time. The crowd gasps as Julia steps out on her father’s arm and glides down the aisle as if carried on a cloud.

I never was the kind of girl who gave much thought to weddings until today.

None of my friends from high school or RISD are even close to getting married, and Dad and Brenda just went down to City Hall, with a post-nuptial celebration at Legal Seafood after.

So I have no idea what to expect from this event, other than what I’ve seen on TV and in the movies.