Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“Oh, no, dear. You had the most lovely wedding dress.”
We’d stopped for rings and a wedding gown? How long had we been talking about getting married? And, more importantly, why?
“Here’s the mouse so you can click through it all,” she said, passing it to me.
The image she’d brought up was just of me. Me standing in a lovely rustic barn-type room with about twenty seats and an altar.
And I looked… really excited.
I reached for the mouse and clicked.
Then there was Harrison.
He wasn’t just next to me. We were melded together. His arms were around my upper body. One of mine was around his waist.
We were both looking at the camera.
And we were beaming.
My smile was big enough to make my eyes crinkle.
Another click.
There we were again.
This time, I was still looking at the camera. But Harrison? Harrison was watching me. With a look in his blue eyes that made my heart flutter.
I quickly clicked off that image.
But the next wasn’t much better.
We were gazing at each other.
My hands were framing his face.
And we looked, to any objective outsider, (and even me, who didn’t remember any of this), that we were a couple very much in love. Not practical strangers.
I sucked in a deep breath and clicked again.
It was just a few seconds later. We were in the same position, but our lips were locked.
I didn’t have a sudden memory of the moment. But I did have the memory of his lips, of how he brought me to shivers and butterflies with his kiss.
So I wasn’t surprised by how the version of me in the image clung to him, melted into him.
The next few images were us at that same altar, but with a man standing between us in a white suit with a cheesy heart-printed tie.
Then there I was putting a ring on his finger. Then him putting one on mine.
Then, of course, the kiss.
I was bent back halfway, seemingly kissing Harrison with everything in me.
Then there we were, beaming at the camera again, my hand thrust out to show off my rings.
Then I was swooped up in Harrison’s arms.
The last image was of him carrying me and kissing me at the same time.
“Oh,” the receptionist said when the front door chime sounded again. “I’ll be right back. I just need to see who that is.”
I gave her a nod, then clicked the mouse one last time.
Then there we were.
But not in image form.
In video.
My heart froze, then tripped into overdrive as I watched myself walking down the aisle.
Steadily.
No tripping, stumbling, or veering off to the side. I didn’t look nearly as drunk as I hoped I would be to make a decision like that.
The videographer panned away from me to take in Harrison instead.
And he looked… enamored.
There was a flutter in my chest that I tried to ignore as I watched us stand at the altar, all smiles and hand-holding.
The minister started his spiel, but it wasn’t until video-Harrison was reaching into his pocket that another memory surfaced.
I could almost feel the ring sliding up my finger, could feel the weight of it, the coolness of the metal. And, finally, the sweeping feeling in my chest.
Almost as if…
“Mrs. Valentine!” a voice said, making me jolt back upright in my seat.
One last glance at the video showed me saying “I do” to Harrison. Then he reached for his wrist for a quick second before he bent me backward and kissed me.
Turning, I saw the man from the video.
The minister.
And, I figured, Johnny.
The manager.
He was in a tan suit this time.
And his tie was full of lipstick kisses.
“I heard you wanted to speak to me,” he said, coming into the room, turning the monitor, and taking back the mouse.
“Yes,” I said, sucking in a deep breath to try to bring some order back to my nervous system that felt a little fried from looking at the evidence of our wedding.
“I’m assuming you aren’t just here for access to your photos and videos.”
“I am not.”
I reached my hand into my bag, grabbing a handful of five-thousand-dollar coins and stacking them up on the desk.
“What’s this?”
“I was thinking that the chances you submitted the paperwork for my supposed wedding today are slim. If the paperwork just so happened to… fall into the shredder and those image and video files got corrupted…”
Johnny’s gaze slid to the stacks of chips. It was a lot of money. I could see him calculating just how much.
But he didn’t have that light in his eye I expected when he looked at me again.
“I’m afraid there are procedures, Mrs. Valentine.”
“Sure, but there are ways… around procedures,” I insisted, stacking more chips, wishing I’d gone back to my room to get the rest of the ones hidden in my boot. I’d put every dime I had down on this if it made it go away.