C HAPTER O NE
“DAMMIT, JASON. Stop fussing with it,” said Sophia, batting my hands away and straightening my bow tie—again. She may be Paul’s sister and here to help me get dressed and calm my nerves before I walked down the aisle, but I couldn’t freaking breathe.
“We should’ve eloped,” I muttered as I fought the rising panic in my lungs.
I loved Paul and knew he loved me, so I wasn’t getting cold feet. No one would go to a musical just to fall asleep to be with someone they didn’t love. Our commitment to each other wasn’t in question, but my nerves were sparking throughout my body at the thought of standing in front of all those important people as we said our vows.
I looked through the sheer curtain that covered the small square window separating the room I was getting dressed in and the large chapel. The room was lavishly decorated with elaborate flower arrangements and silk-covered chairs. It was filled with the crowd that were there to witness the nuptials. I couldn’t distinguish between the guests as the curtain was just thick enough to blur the details, but I could hear the muted voices and soft music coming through the old sandstone walls. Paul was in the room across the hall from mine, getting the same help from his mom as I was getting from Sophia. Except I was pretty sure he could breathe.
Everyone from the City Mayor, New York socialites, senators—the liberal ones—to powerful and influential businessmen were there today, and through the curtain I could make out the backs of their heads as they waited for Paul and me to walk down the aisle together. I swallowed at the thought.
Paul didn’t care where we got married. He wanted me to be happy and would have eloped to Hawaii if I really pushed him, but I knew how much it meant to his family and what was expected of someone of his business caliber and social status. I knew what I was getting myself into when I said
yes
over a year ago. Still, my nerves didn’t care what was expected.
We were getting hitched in an old manor in South Hampton, complete with sweeping staircases and its own expensively decorated chapel surrounded by manicured gardens. It screamed wealth and self-importance, and a little part of me hoped my parents would see the tabloid pictures. The reception was to be held at the Plaza, naturally, but when I questioned Paul about the distance the guests would have to drive, he waved me off and said it was what was expected.
I sighed at the thought and secretly longed for a secluded Hawaiian island.
“And take this moment away from Mom?” Sophia batted my hands away again as she loosened the tie a little, allowing me to breathe easier. Her voice softened as she said, “Not to mention this will show the New York City gay set that its most eligible bachelor has now been permanently taken off the market,
and
by a humble accountant from the boroughs.” Sophia smiled fondly at me as her eyes welled and glistened. “I’m so glad he found you.”
“I’m glad he scared the shit out of me on the stairs,” I said, thinking back to when I’d first met him. I had started taking the stairs at work to avoid meeting him in the elevator, but the too-sexy-for-anyone’s-shirt-smug bastard cornered me when he realized I was avoiding him.
Sophia giggled. “He was pretty determined, wasn’t he?”
You could say that.
Our relationship wasn’t always perfect, and it had taken some convincing on his part for me to move in with him. I was renting a small apartment and making do on my accountant’s wage. He lived in a swanky penthouse uptown and because he lived closer to our common workplace, I agreed to move in. But not before I set some ground rules about paying my share. It had taken nearly a full week of negotiations before I gave in and let him
almost
have his way. Because he owned the apartment outright, I insisted on paying for the utilities. I couldn’t afford to pay him half what the rent would be, and I sensed he
“DAMMIT, JASON. Stop fussing with it,” said Sophia, batting my hands away and straightening my bow tie—again. She may be Paul’s sister and here to help me get dressed and calm my nerves before I walked down the aisle, but I couldn’t freaking breathe.
“We should’ve eloped,” I muttered as I fought the rising panic in my lungs.
I loved Paul and knew he loved me, so I wasn’t getting cold feet. No one would go to a musical just to fall asleep to be with someone they didn’t love. Our commitment to each other wasn’t in question, but my nerves were sparking throughout my body at the thought of standing in front of all those important people as we said our vows.
I looked through the sheer curtain that covered the small square window separating the room I was getting dressed in and the large chapel. The room was lavishly decorated with elaborate flower arrangements and silk-covered chairs. It was filled with the crowd that were there to witness the nuptials. I couldn’t distinguish between the guests as the curtain was just thick enough to blur the details, but I could hear the muted voices and soft music coming through the old sandstone walls. Paul was in the room across the hall from mine, getting the same help from his mom as I was getting from Sophia. Except I was pretty sure he could breathe.
Everyone from the City Mayor, New York socialites, senators—the liberal ones—to powerful and influential businessmen were there today, and through the curtain I could make out the backs of their heads as they waited for Paul and me to walk down the aisle together. I swallowed at the thought.
Paul didn’t care where we got married. He wanted me to be happy and would have eloped to Hawaii if I really pushed him, but I knew how much it meant to his family and what was expected of someone of his business caliber and social status. I knew what I was getting myself into when I said
yes
over a year ago. Still, my nerves didn’t care what was expected.
We were getting hitched in an old manor in South Hampton, complete with sweeping staircases and its own expensively decorated chapel surrounded by manicured gardens. It screamed wealth and self-importance, and a little part of me hoped my parents would see the tabloid pictures. The reception was to be held at the Plaza, naturally, but when I questioned Paul about the distance the guests would have to drive, he waved me off and said it was what was expected.
I sighed at the thought and secretly longed for a secluded Hawaiian island.
“And take this moment away from Mom?” Sophia batted my hands away again as she loosened the tie a little, allowing me to breathe easier. Her voice softened as she said, “Not to mention this will show the New York City gay set that its most eligible bachelor has now been permanently taken off the market,
and
by a humble accountant from the boroughs.” Sophia smiled fondly at me as her eyes welled and glistened. “I’m so glad he found you.”
“I’m glad he scared the shit out of me on the stairs,” I said, thinking back to when I’d first met him. I had started taking the stairs at work to avoid meeting him in the elevator, but the too-sexy-for-anyone’s-shirt-smug bastard cornered me when he realized I was avoiding him.
Sophia giggled. “He was pretty determined, wasn’t he?”
You could say that.
Our relationship wasn’t always perfect, and it had taken some convincing on his part for me to move in with him. I was renting a small apartment and making do on my accountant’s wage. He lived in a swanky penthouse uptown and because he lived closer to our common workplace, I agreed to move in. But not before I set some ground rules about paying my share. It had taken nearly a full week of negotiations before I gave in and let him
almost
have his way. Because he owned the apartment outright, I insisted on paying for the utilities. I couldn’t afford to pay him half what the rent would be, and I sensed he
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