I’d lost my mind. “In your wedding dress?”
“Well, it’s either that, or we walk.”
His hand was in the air before I’d even finished the sentence.
Five minutes passed before a taxi was crazy enough to pick us up. Apparently, seeing a bride and a groom in front of a church was just too much drama for most NYC drivers to handle. Luckily, Mo from Queens was feeling a bit adventurous and decided he needed a good laugh as Jude spoke with him through the window before quickly helping me shove the many layers of my designer gown into the shabby backseat.
“You running away?” Mo asked in a heavy accent.
“No! Of course not!” I said adamantly. “Our limo that was supposed to take us to our reception disappeared.”
“Limo drivers—can’t trust those guys.” He laughed. “Well, let’s get the king and queen to their party!”
Jude gave him the address, and within fifteen minutes, we arrived fashionably late to our own reception.
“They’re here!” Grace yelled, running up to us in her beautiful green satin dress. The way it fit her flattered her figure perfectly, yet it still gave her that frilly feminine look she loved so much.
Even though it wasn’t pink, I’d still kept her in mind when picking it out.
“Sorry,” we apologized as we walked in. “Our limo was missing.”
“What? Well, only one was out there when we left, but I asked him to go back.” She was incredibly flustered.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He probably just didn’t understand. We took a cab.”
She looked horrified. Her eyes roamed my dress, searching for evidence of our harrowing journey.
“We’re fine, really.”
“Come on. Let’s go enjoy the evening,” Jude encouraged, throwing an arm around the both of us.
“Wait!” Grace came to a halt, and she turned. “You guys can’t just waltz in. You must be introduced. It’s tradition.”
We looked at each other and grinned, both realizing we needed to give Grace this moment.
“Okay. We’ll wait here then.” I said.
“Yes! I’ll let the band know. The lead singer will announce you, and then you can have your grand entrance as husband and wife. Very classy.”
She flitted off as both of us held our breath, trying to keep from bursting into laughter.
“She’s intense. Has she ever considered becoming an event organizer?” Jude asked, a chuckle escaping his throat.
“Or dictator. No one would even know they were being ruled because she’s so sweet.”
A deep voice came over the microphone, and we scooted closer to the ballroom just in time to hear the magic words. Grace opened the door, her face beaming, as a spotlight hit us square in our faces.
We held hands and made our way through the throng of people clapping and cheering. It was like being a celebrity for a night, and I suddenly realized why movie stars were all so thin. There was no time to eat.
Jude and I had spent a hefty amount of time picking out a beautiful place to have the reception. It needed to be classy enough for his mother’s guests and for us. Well, all we’d really cared about was the food. This location had class and great food. Their chef was amazing and managed to make food that was both divine and not overbearing.
But I hadn’t had a chance to eat any of it since arriving at our table. Every time I raised my fork to my mouth, someone would tap on my shoulder, ready to congratulate me or offer hugs and kisses. It was lovely and heartfelt, and I adored the attention, but if I didn’t get food in my belly soon, people were going to see what a bridezilla truly looked like.
“Miss?” a young waiter said at my side before correcting himself. “I mean, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” His hand covered his mouth as he cleared his throat and blushed, clearly nervous.
I took a moment to glance over at my new husband, who was giving him the evil eye.
“Lailah is fine,” I replied sweetly before giving Jude a look that told him to stand down.
“The chef has
“Well, it’s either that, or we walk.”
His hand was in the air before I’d even finished the sentence.
Five minutes passed before a taxi was crazy enough to pick us up. Apparently, seeing a bride and a groom in front of a church was just too much drama for most NYC drivers to handle. Luckily, Mo from Queens was feeling a bit adventurous and decided he needed a good laugh as Jude spoke with him through the window before quickly helping me shove the many layers of my designer gown into the shabby backseat.
“You running away?” Mo asked in a heavy accent.
“No! Of course not!” I said adamantly. “Our limo that was supposed to take us to our reception disappeared.”
“Limo drivers—can’t trust those guys.” He laughed. “Well, let’s get the king and queen to their party!”
Jude gave him the address, and within fifteen minutes, we arrived fashionably late to our own reception.
“They’re here!” Grace yelled, running up to us in her beautiful green satin dress. The way it fit her flattered her figure perfectly, yet it still gave her that frilly feminine look she loved so much.
Even though it wasn’t pink, I’d still kept her in mind when picking it out.
“Sorry,” we apologized as we walked in. “Our limo was missing.”
“What? Well, only one was out there when we left, but I asked him to go back.” She was incredibly flustered.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He probably just didn’t understand. We took a cab.”
She looked horrified. Her eyes roamed my dress, searching for evidence of our harrowing journey.
“We’re fine, really.”
“Come on. Let’s go enjoy the evening,” Jude encouraged, throwing an arm around the both of us.
“Wait!” Grace came to a halt, and she turned. “You guys can’t just waltz in. You must be introduced. It’s tradition.”
We looked at each other and grinned, both realizing we needed to give Grace this moment.
“Okay. We’ll wait here then.” I said.
“Yes! I’ll let the band know. The lead singer will announce you, and then you can have your grand entrance as husband and wife. Very classy.”
She flitted off as both of us held our breath, trying to keep from bursting into laughter.
“She’s intense. Has she ever considered becoming an event organizer?” Jude asked, a chuckle escaping his throat.
“Or dictator. No one would even know they were being ruled because she’s so sweet.”
A deep voice came over the microphone, and we scooted closer to the ballroom just in time to hear the magic words. Grace opened the door, her face beaming, as a spotlight hit us square in our faces.
We held hands and made our way through the throng of people clapping and cheering. It was like being a celebrity for a night, and I suddenly realized why movie stars were all so thin. There was no time to eat.
Jude and I had spent a hefty amount of time picking out a beautiful place to have the reception. It needed to be classy enough for his mother’s guests and for us. Well, all we’d really cared about was the food. This location had class and great food. Their chef was amazing and managed to make food that was both divine and not overbearing.
But I hadn’t had a chance to eat any of it since arriving at our table. Every time I raised my fork to my mouth, someone would tap on my shoulder, ready to congratulate me or offer hugs and kisses. It was lovely and heartfelt, and I adored the attention, but if I didn’t get food in my belly soon, people were going to see what a bridezilla truly looked like.
“Miss?” a young waiter said at my side before correcting himself. “I mean, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” His hand covered his mouth as he cleared his throat and blushed, clearly nervous.
I took a moment to glance over at my new husband, who was giving him the evil eye.
“Lailah is fine,” I replied sweetly before giving Jude a look that told him to stand down.
“The chef has
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