Page 105 of Heavy Crown

thirty-eight

Rory

I’ve always loved weddings. As a kid, I spent hours visualizing my dress, and little else. The groom? The venue? Secondary to the dress. Julia’s does not disappoint. Not that I’d expect a royal wedding to have a lackluster dress, but it’s gratifying to see a gown that not only feels like Julia but that flatters her so well. Posey told me it was gorgeous, but the details were hush-hush.

When I appear in front of Julia with a tray of drinks, she glances in my direction and then does a double take.

“You’re working?” Julia’s gaze slides from mine to search the room. “Why are you working?”

“Overtime,” I say. “You look gorgeous. Congratulations.”

Nick turns from whoever he’s been speaking to and scoops the last glass of champagne off my tray. He frowns at me, and then he seems to search the crowd.

“I didn’t realize you were working the wedding,” Nick says.

“I should—” I start to say.

“Come with me,” Posey says into my ear. She takes my elbow, and I follow her.

“I’m working.” I flash my empty tray.

She leads me into a side hallway, and she glances around her for reporters or other people who might take an interest, but we’re alone. “Please tell me you knew about Simone and that Alex isn’t a complete shit.”

I swallow. “I’m working,” I say again. As long as I keep moving, serving drinks and food, blending into the crowd, I can get through tonight. She might think she’s helping, but she’s not.

Her shoulders slump. “He didn’t tell you?” She wails the question.

“It’s—it’s complicated. I can’t do this here.” The door behind us opens, and someone glances around.

“Not the bathroom,” they mutter before ducking inside again.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “Come by tomorrow, and I’ll tell you everything. But don’t—” I take a deep breath. “Don’t say anything to Alex.”

“It’s one thing to tell you he can’t ever marry you. It’s another to be planning some sort of secret wedding to someone else behind your back.” Her jaw is tight with tension.

Tears fill my eyes at having her condense my pain. “I’m working.”

“Right. Shit. Sorry. Okay. Sorry.” She gives me a quick hug and then tugs open the door to the hall. “Tomorrow we’ll get drunk and bitch about men.”

“Isn’t Brent here?” I ask.

“He leaves tomorrow afternoon,” she says. “We’ll be bitching about Alex, but I’ll find something to complain about with Brent if it’ll make you feel better.”

Only two things seem to make me feel somewhat normal: sleep and work. “Sure,” I say. “Tomorrow.”

When I step into the hall, I’m unprepared for the sight of Alex only a row of people away from me in conversation with the mayor of Tucker’s Town. Whatever they’re talking about seems to have made him happy.

A twist of the knife. He’s in his element. A reminder that as much as it hurts me, he’ll be okay. He glances up and searches the crowd, a frown on his face. I slip between rows of people before stopping to stare at him again. I can’t help myself.

Simone appears behind him. Her hand slides across his shoulders, and she leans across his body with an unexpected familiarity. Has he kissed her? Slept with her? Will he? Each question is a punch to the gut.

According to palace gossip, she’s staying with him for a week in his wing of the house. He’s going to marry her. Of course they’ll do all those things.

My stomach rolls, and I turn away from them, my empty tray clutched in my hand. Without looking back, I weave through the crowd to the kitchen. I’m supposed to collect empty glasses on my return, but I keep my tray down, determined to put distance between me and Alex. Until dinner starts, I’ll switch with someone and work the back of the crowd, but I won’t go near the front again. I congratulated Nick and Jules, and I have no desire to speak to anyone else.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of entering and exiting the kitchen, first with drinks and then with dinner. The head caterer gives me a table near the back of the hall with a group of foreign diplomats, and I’m grateful I won’t be anywhere near Alex and Simone.

By the time dessert rolls around, I’m not quite as thankful.