ONE
I do.
Those were the words the groom was supposed to say.
Bridesmaid Poppy Granger stood behind her sister, wondering why there was a hold up.
For two years, her sister Violet had been planning the wedding of the century. The dream event was the envy of all her friends. Whether married or single, society’s darlings held their breath, waiting for Holden Abernathy, multibillionaire, to say “I do” to Violet Granger.
I do.
It was really simple… so why the hell was the groom just standing there looking at her?
Holden’s gaze flicked away from her to land on his bride. “I’m sorry, Violet,” he said, filled with contrition. “I can’t marry you.”
A collective gasp of horror—mixed with perhaps a little delight—went around the church… Well, it was more like a cathedral in her opinion, though she’d been corrected on that point more than once. The building was huge and ornate. Filling it hadn’t been a problem when there were so many people eager to witness the match happen in real time. No one could’ve predicted the turn of events.
“Wha… what?” Violet asked.
Poppy’s heart went out to her. It couldn’t be easy to be jilted and that was exactly what was happening. Primrose, Poppy’s other sister, grabbed for her arm. They stood there, just two of many bridesmaids her sister had chosen to line up behind her, watching the moment unfold.
Maybe five hundred guests was seeming a little excessive now. She’d said it upon seeing the guest list for the first time. Then she’d shrugged it off. Even Poppy couldn’t have foreseen Holden’s last second change of heart.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” Holden said. “I can’t marry you.”
It took Violet another few seconds to locate her voice again. “You can’t… why not?”
Poppy couldn’t blame her sister for being exasperated. The asshole had plenty of chances to back out of the deal. Choosing that platform, practically on a stage, elevated in front of all their peers… yeah, asshole was an understatement.
“Because I’m in love with your sister.”
Poppy’s eyes widened as another gasp seized the room. Her instinct brought her focus around to Primrose who was staring right back, just as shocked.
“What the hell did you do?” Poppy whispered to Primrose.
Primrose and Violet were known for being competitive, but going for the same guy? Even Poppy wouldn’t have thought it of them.
“Me?” Primrose shrieked. “He’s looking at you!”
Poppy’s head snapped around to find that, yeah, Primrose wasn’t wrong.
“What?” Poppy asked in a burst of shock. “Me?”
“Poppy,” Holden said, stepping around Violet. “For years I’ve been watching you… seeing you bloom into an incredible woman—”
“Whoa,” she said, thrusting her bouquet his way, preventing him from getting too near. “That’s close enough. You’re marrying my sister.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “How can I do that when I feel this way about you? I didn’t know love could be so… overwhelming. So powerful in its draw. Yes, I should marry Violet, she’s the eldest, the closest thing your father has to an heir.”
“That’s what this was about?” Poppy snapped. “Money?”
“Everything is about money,” someone in the congregation muttered… someone who sounded an awful lot like her grandmother.
“Not with you,” Holden said, trying to come closer again. “With you, it’s all love, it’s all real.”
Poppy thrust the bridal bouquet toward him, pairing it with her own. Violet had handed her the flowers as she reached the altar just a few minutes ago. Her sister’s life had a path then, a glorious, optimistic path.
That path was crumbling fast.
“How could you do this to me?” Violet yelped and dashed up the aisle she’d glided down not too long ago.
Watching the cloud of silk and lace recede down the middle of the room through the sea of gawkers, Poppy was at a loss. Rooted to the spot, she couldn’t move even when the other bridesmaids started to disappear after the bride.
Her father was quick to leap up too. He grabbed for his mother and his wife, giving both of them a push to go after Violet. The room was alive. People were standing up, reaching over each other, talking, speculating.
Poppy just stayed there. Completely stunned.
Someone touched her, tearing her out of the daze. The man with his hand on her arm filled her with anger: Holden. Yanking it away from his entitled grip, Poppy threw the flowers to the floor. She didn’t even think before pulling back her fist and bringing it around to smack that disgusting glow of hope from his smiling face.
Whatever he thought there was to smile about, he was mistaken.
Leaping from her perch, Poppy ran up the aisle, darting around anyone who tried to reach out or get in her way.
There were several rooms off the long vestibule beyond the double doors she burst through. Her grandmother, Marigold Granger, stood outside one.
“Come here,” Marigold said, opening the door and gesturing her over.
She and her grandmother had always been bonded. It bothered her sisters sometimes, but Poppy was grateful for it. Especially then. She’d need an ally.
Poppy assumed her family were inside, except the narrow room was empty, of people anyway. There were tables and chairs and all sorts of other furniture piled up at the back of the space like it was a storage area.
“What are we doing in here?” Poppy asked, spinning around just as her grandmother closed the door. “Where is everyone?”
“This will be a story,” Marigold said, coming over to take her arms. “He’s one of the richest men in the country. And he left his bride at the altar for her sister.”
“Nothing has ever happened between us,” Poppy said, her insistence becoming disgust. “I would never… Holden is Violet’s.”
Even if he wasn’t, Poppy wouldn’t want him.
“Are you sure about that?” her grandmother asked, inspecting her gaze. “Because it seems he’s yours for the taking. If you want him, you have to follow your heart.”
“My…” She exhaled. “Geez, Grammie, of everyone, I would think you would believe me. Why would I want a man like Holden?”
Marigold’s smile was slow. “Just checking you’re still the girl I raised.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been a determined girl. Since you were little. People called you precocious. Some thought you were rude… I always prayed you’d keep that fire; that you would never force yourself into their mold.”
“You do know the money is yours right?” Poppy asked. “That we have all this… the big fancy house, the company, the society, the possessions… because of you.”
“And some say it was my decision to marry your grandfather that sent my mother to an early grave. That mold belongs to the Adlers, not the Grangers.”
Poppy smiled. Her grandmother was born an Adler, but married a Granger, much to everyone’s outrage. The story of her grandparents’ courtship always brightened Poppy’s mood. Her grandfather was the groundskeeper’s apprentice. Dallying with the prestigious Adler family was forbidden for the help, especially back then.
Still, Marigold hadn’t hesitated. She’d followed her heart, going so far as to shun her family to run away with her love. It took years for her to reconcile with the Adler family. Marigold married her love, William Granger, without hesitation and only heard from her mother again after the news of her pregnancy reached the Adler Estate.
“I don’t want to marry Holden,” Poppy said. “I’ve never met anyone I want to marry.”
“And that’s why you have to leave.”
Shocked, Poppy’s mouth opened. “What?”
Marigold kept on smiling. “You’ll make it out there, Tot. You’ll love it.” She sighed and cupped her granddaughter’s face. “You haven’t been happy on the estate for a long time.”
Sometimes Poppy wondered if she ever had been. “Leaving will be a sign of guilt.”
Marigold raised her chin and took both of her hands. “They’ll believe you’re guilty anyway.” A sad truth. “The media. Society. They’ll believe you led him on… It’s not fair, but it’s always the way. It’s always the fault of the female.” Not a truth that Poppy liked to face, though it wasn’t one she could refute. “And your sister will bleed this for all it’s worth.”
It only took her a second to smile. Usually, her grandmother wasn’t so overt in her judgement of the spoiled Violet.
“Father would never let me leave.”
“Your father isn’t here,” Marigold said, letting go of her to remove her own earrings and necklace.
“What are you doing?” Poppy asked when her grandmother put the jewelry in her hands.
Marigold took off her bracelet and gave her that too. “It will get you started. I don’t have any cash and they’ll trace cards.”
“Grammie, I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can,” she said, holding up her hand to show the wedding and engagement rings on her finger. “You come back to me when you find someone worthy of giving this to you.”
“Grammie…”
“It’s okay,” Marigold said, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll take care of what I can here. You need to get away before the circus begins. There’s probably footage from inside.” Damnit, maybe she should’ve thought about that before punching Holden. “You call though… I won’t tell your parents, your siblings… You call me as soon as you stop somewhere. Don’t hesitate to call if you’re in trouble. If you need something and not—”
“Grammie,” Poppy said, leaning away from their hug. “Thank you.”
Someone had to cut the bonds that were pulling her down, dampening her spirit. Somehow, her grandmother had seen that and was freeing her. It was a debt Poppy wouldn’t be able to repay anytime soon.
“Take risks,” her grandmother said, drawing her into another hug. “Don’t be afraid to jump in, to throw yourself into anything that excites your heart and soul. Grab those chances with both hands. You have to risk your heart to love the way you deserve… It’s supposed to hurt. Let it reach down deep inside of you.”
Poppy wasn’t so eager to find love. Her grandparents’ relationship was a great love. Since his death, her grandmother hadn’t looked at another man and had never taken off her rings. When she’d been a little girl, hearing her grandmother’s stories of them together, Poppy had made a promise to never, ever even consider marriage unless she loved like that.
It had never happened. She didn’t hold out much hope that it would. But she did want to be free of her family’s constraints. To live life, to experience something that wasn’t Granger dictated. To be someone other than the youngest Granger sister. Could she make it on her own? Stand on her own two feet? Being out there alone was the only way to find out.
Poppy could hear the rumble of the gossip mill getting going when she left her grandmother alone. Her family were in one of the other rooms. She could seek them out if she wanted to, but that would mean giving up the opportunity to be free. It would also mean facing whatever society and the media wanted to throw at her. And Poppy couldn’t be sure that Violet would be open to listening to reason.
Pausing to look back toward the altar, she saw Holden up there, on the phone, his back to the masses. Turning the other way, to the door into the world, Poppy made her choice: it was time to go.
Her grandmother’s jewelry was still in her palm, so she was grateful her dress was tea-length and not catching at her feet. Though the full tulle skirt made her easy to spot, which was a downside. Especially if the media got in before she got out.
Getting outside was only half the battle. The grounds of the church stretched in every direction; it was a long walk just to get back onto the main road. Walking that way would probably lead her straight into the path of the press who’d be racing for the scoop.
As far as she knew, there was security around the perimeter keeping the picture hounds out. But would they be able to control the inside and outside simultaneously? People from the congregation would have cameras on their phones. Their tale would fetch so much more if there were pictures, or video, to go with it.
On arrival, cars could draw up to the front of the building. They then looped around to park in a side parking lot. Near to that area, a few guys were mulling around.
Clutching the jewelry, Poppy started toward them. “I need a ride.” The guys stopped talking to look her way. “Please, can anyone take me away from here?”
They all looked at each other, but no one was quick to step forward. Figuring there might be someone in the actual parking lot more receptive to helping, Poppy didn’t let their lack of a response slow her down. There were a whole bunch of cars parked around there, someone had to be interested in helping her.
The men, who still hadn’t said a word, parted to allow her through their huddle. Determined, just like her grandmother said, Poppy held onto her fire and forged on. She was right that there were others around the side of the building. Those closest appeared much the same as the group she’d seen around front. Realizing that the men in suits and uniforms would be in the permanent employ of the socialites, they’d be unlikely to risk their positions, and their regular income, for her. So she cast her attention elsewhere. At the other end of the parking area was a group of slightly less tailored individuals.
Setting her sights on them, Poppy strode down the golden gravel to approach. As she got closer, she registered two men and two women. One of the guys was smoking and the younger of the two women was sitting on top of a short statue by a wooden door.
As Poppy approached, all of them stopped talking to look at her. Rather than the blank expressions of the other men, these people seemed wary.
“Hello,” she said, hoping confidence and a smile would go a long way. “I need some help.” She stopped walking, but didn’t receive any acknowledgement. “I need a ride out of here.”
“You the one screwing the groom?” the older of the two guys asked.
“No,” Poppy said, reminding herself that a groan wouldn’t ingratiate her. “Definitely not doing that… Can someone give me a ride?”
Glancing at the vehicles nearest to them, she noticed a small wooden sign driven into the grass at the edge of the gravel, which stated “employee parking.”
“Where you headed?” the guy asked.
“Anywhere,” she said. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Well, we’ve got work to do here,” he said. “You hang around a few hours and we’ll—”
“No,” she said. “I really need to go now…” Hesitating, she caught her lip in her teeth as she considered the options. “I can pay you.”
The guy’s brows went up and he looked around at the others. “Yeah? What you gotta pay with?”
No cash, if that’s what he was hoping. The diamonds of her grandmother’s jewelry dug into her palm. Instead of giving them the exquisite gems, she shook her head to highlight the sparkle of her earrings.
“Take me to the nearest pawn shop, you won’t be disappointed.”
The older guy prodded the younger one. “Keep an eye on things. I’ll be back later.”
She had a ride. Progress. Even if it was slow, Poppy had to appreciate every increment. One step at a time was the only way she’d get through.
(C) Scarlett Finn
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