Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Sinclair request the honour
of your presence at the marriage of their daughter
Madison Leigh
To
Grant William Anderson
son of Mr. and Mrs. Michael Anderson
Saturday, the sixteenth of May
Two thousand and fifteen
at three o'clock in the afternoon
Rosemont House
3212 Meridian Avenue
Neptune, California 90909
Reception to follow
Black tie attire
Dick Casablancas really freaking loved weddings. He loved tuxes, he loved open bars, and he loved single female guests, who, in his experience, were always down for a good time. When the engraved and foil-stamped invitation to his ex's big day arrived in the mail, he'd immediately entered the date into his Blackberry calendar and let his staff know he'd be unavailable all that day, and the next. He needed time for both prep and recovery, and he had high hopes for spending the recovery with a bridesmaid. The invitation now lay on the passenger seat of his silver Benz, which he was maneuvering through the foothills of Neptune Heights.
The Rosemont House (which was, in actuality, a mansion famed for its size and luxury) loomed in the distance. It reminded him of the castle he'd visited in Austria, where he'd convinced a Swedish girl to sneak behind the velvet ropes with him, into a room off-limits to guests because someone had been assassinated in there or something. He turned into the mansion's curved driveway, threw the car into park and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. He adjusted his collar and gave himself a rakish grin. "Let the wild rumpus begin," he said, before sliding out of the convertible and tossing the keys to a jacketed valet.
He jogged up the marble stairs and through the vaulted entrance to the house. Past the door he found a cavernous space decorated with muted pinks and beige, and a table to his right held place cards and arrangements of white roses.
He found the card with his name on it, standing upright in a metal base shaped like a rose. He hoped Madison had had enough sense to put him at a table with other attractive singles. Feeling ridiculously sexy in his tux, he headed straight for the bar and winked at more than one female guest on the way.
"Hey, man," he nodded to the bartender. "Can I get a water in a short glass, with a lime?"
This was a trick he'd picked up after college. You could look like you were drinking without a care in the world, but you were really just hydrating. Then later when you did get a drink you'd be way more levelheaded than everyone else but nobody would think you were a square. The thought of having to call a cab and leaving his Benz here would keep him from going overboard. Plus one time Logan had told him that when he was drunk he acted like Scott Disick from the Kardashians, so that was a major deterrent.
He took a sip of his water and surveyed the room. He had to hand it to Madison: this was a terrific venue for a wedding. The French doors along two of the walls let in the last of the day's sunlight, which cast a glow over the entire room and refracted in the crystals in the floral arrangements. Those doors would be perfect for escaping into the expansive gardens with the lucky lady of his choosing.
He made small talk with the bartender for a few minutes (another trick: getting the person on the other side of the bar on your side, always a worthwhile endeavor) and then leisurely rested an elbow on the bar, scanning the room for prospects without bothering to hide his intent. In college he had thought himself to be in his sexual prime, but now at almost 27 he felt he had really hit his stride when it came to charming the pants (or bridesmaid's dress, whatever) off of women.
A blonde in an inappropriately low-cut dress ogled him back without shame, and he tipped his glass to her. She returned the gesture and he sauntered over to say hello.
"Richard," he said. "You can call me Dick."
"We'll see how the night goes," she said with a playful grin. "I'm Sam. Bride or groom's side?"
Feeling that this was a tricky question to answer, given that he used to nail the bride, he answered instead, "Enough about me. Which side are you on?"
She grinned wickedly and said, "I used to sleep with the groom."
"Well, then," he said, clinking his glass against hers. "This wedding just got interesting."
They sipped their drinks without breaking eye contact. Her green eyes were sphinx-like and lined with black kohl to match her dress, which hugged her body all the way to its floor-length hem. If her irreverent comment were any indication, she could make an entertaining companion for the night. She was looking at him hungrily, and he noticed her eyes lingering a second longer on his platinum cufflinks than on his face. He wasn't too bothered. He took another sip and cast his gaze around the room, which was filled with black tuxes and dresses mostly in shades of pink. His eyes immediately were drawn to the brightest spot of color in the room, and when he saw the face belonging to the violet dress, he choked. Water went up his nose, down the wrong tube, everywhere, because she'd shown up.
She'd actually shown up, and she looked every bit as good as she did in the magazines.
Sam had a hand on his arm and was asking if he was alright. Her concern dissipated when she followed his stare and caught sight of the person across the room.
"Oh my God!" she hissed. "Oh my God, is that who I think it is?"
A noticeable frisson of excitement passed through the room as the guests began to notice the new arrival, but nobody stopped their conversations. All over the room people were subtly angling to get a better look, and Dick rolled his watering eyes as Sam jostled him aside for a clearer view.
He thumped a fist against the middle of his chest, because red-faced and wheezing were two things he didn't want to be when he saw Mac in person for the first time since they'd graduated from Hearst. She had spotted him and was approaching rapidly, moving with the same quick steps her short legs had always taken when they were at school together. He cleared his throat one more time before she was in front of him.
"Hello," she said. There was a bright smile on her face, but Dick suspected she wasn't as comfortable as she was acting; she must have learned a few things from her new crowd.
"Hi," Sam said breathlessly. Mac took in the other woman's plunging neckline and heavy-handed makeup and raised her eyebrows at Dick, lips pressed together to suppress a smirk. He just shrugged and tried to look nonchalant.
"Why does it feel like no time at all has passed?" Mac said.
"Maybe because you're unnaturally well-preserved," he said. "Dipping into the Botox already?"
The girl in the black dress gasped and looked back and forth between them, stunned, but Mac was grinning.
"You're looking pretty fresh yourself," Mac said. "Restylane?"
"Clean living," Dick corrected her, and she laughed out loud, causing him to make an amendment. "Clean-ish living. Drink?"
"You read my mind," she said. They turned as one and headed toward the bar, leaving the blonde with her mouth hanging open.
"Nice girl," Mac commented as they walked. "Your date?"
"Please," Dick said. "Do I bring a bag lunch to a five-star meal?"
"Of course, what was I thinking?" she said with a laugh.
"Search me," Dick said. He cleared his throat. "So can you believe it? Your BFF Madison is a married woman."
"Oh, yeah," Mac deadpanned. "We talk on the phone nightly. Good thing her husband is loaded, because the phone bills are really starting to add up."
"Well your S.O. isn't doing too bad for himself, either," Dick said, but Mac waved a dismissive hand as she accepted a glass of Riesling from the bartender and placed a bill in the tip jar.
They both knew why they were there, and it wasn't because of a close bond with the bride. Dick was there because, no matter how apathetic he and Madison were about each other, he was still important enough in the Neptune scene to merit an invitation. Logan had been invited, too, since he was on the Millionaires Madison Knows list, but he'd thrown his invite in the garbage, where he said it belonged. Either way, Dick would be willing to wager that every guest at the reception who wasn't family had a net worth in the millions. The girl at his side was a slightly different story but with the same ending. After all, he mused, you can't throw the Neptune wedding of the decade without a few celebrities on your guest list.