Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
The ceremony starts and the maid of honor walks down the short aisle with a young man and takes her place at the front. “That woman looks like Mayor Concord’s daughter,” my father whispers. “And that’s Judge Oak officiating.”
As the face of the business, my father’s always been the one to socialize with community leaders and to lobby politicians. It’s not something I’ve ever been included in. Nor do I want to be. I prefer to help the families and clients who come to us.
“Oh.” What else does he expect me to say? Besides, I’m still busy searching for Jigsaw.
There. Near the front left. Wearing a worried frown while he helps a heavily pregnant blonde woman stand.
Well, damn. He is married.
And about to be a father.
Then an older man with a sinfully perfect silver beard scowls and elbows Jigsaw out of the way, taking the blonde’s hand. He was there the night all the bikers showed up to borrow the crematorium, but I didn’t say more than a couple of words to him. Is he Jigsaw’s father-in-law?
I’m so distracted by the scene, and trying to figure out everyone’s roles, I miss most of the ceremony. Until a baby starts wailing.
My stomach rumbles and I quietly unwrap one of the brownies, careful not to get any crumbs on my dress. I pop a small piece in my mouth.
Then the ceremony’s over and Teller kisses his bride. They’re so passionate and intense it’s almost uncomfortable to watch. Well, for me. Everyone else seems to whoop and cheer for them. Even my father gives a half smile and claps.
That’s probably what he wants for me, isn’t it? Not only did my brothers decide the family business wasn’t their destiny, neither of them has married or had children, yet. No grandchildren to carry on the Cedarwood legacy.
According to my ex, I’ll have to get better at sex if I plan to marry and have kids one day. Although, I’m sure women throughout history have had to bear children even if they didn’t enjoy sex. That’s too depressing to contemplate at such a happy occasion.
Just focus on these two beautiful people I barely know celebrating their love.
Everyone stands as the bride and groom run down the aisle holding hands. It’s hard to believe this is the same man who showed up after hours covered in blood, casually tossing bodies into the fire.
How fascinating.
After the ceremony people mingle, something my father excels at and I don’t. Unsure of what to do, I follow him around like a well-trained puppy.
I’m standing slightly behind him and to his left when a taller, curvy woman with long auburn hair approaches with a warm smile stretched across her pretty face.
“You must be Margot?”
“Uh, yes.” I step out of my father’s shadow and shake her hand.
“I’m Hope.” She hesitates, frowns, then smiles. “The, uh, stepmother of the groom. Thank you for coming.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Thank you for inviting me. I’ve only had a chance to meet Teller a few times…” And the last time he was splattered with blood.
Nope, better not say that out loud.
Rock, the president, steps up next to Hope, placing his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip. Oh, God. Hope’s the president’s wife. She may look nice and inviting but her curious green eyes seem to be quietly assessing me. She’s probably trying to figure out how much I know about what her husband and the other men did the night they “borrowed” our crematorium. Thank God I never actually saw anything incriminating.
What’s a polite way to express that all of her stepson’s and husband’s secrets are safe with me?
“Hello, Margot.” Rock dips his chin in greeting. “Nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too, Mr. North.”
“Rock,” he corrects.
“Rock,” I repeat. Neither of them look old enough to be Teller’s parents but that seems rude to say, so I bite my tongue.
Teller and his bride join us. Hope beams at them and Teller leans down to kiss her cheek and whisper something in her ear. Her lips curve and she gives him a playful slap. They’re all so…casual and loving toward each other.
“Thanks for coming,” Teller says to me. “Margot, this is my wife,” he unleashes an utterly charming grin like he’s thrilled to finally use that word, “Charlotte. Char, this is Margot.”
Charlotte smiles wide and doesn’t seem to be annoyed she’s wasting time talking to a stranger on her wedding day. She stretches out her arms and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you for coming,” she says softly against my hair. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
So, everyone knows I’m the body disappearing service lady?
My father turns and Teller makes the introductions again. Charlotte shakes his hand politely, but he doesn’t get a hug. I guess I’m special.
Eventually, I gravitate toward the table of food, picking up a can of soda. I pull the brownie out of my purse and pop the rest in my mouth, then wash it down with Sprite.