Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [96]
Instead she focused her energies on making this day the best of Faith’s life. And after that . . . well, there were plenty of things for a nongambling librarian like Megan to do while here in Vegas. Plenty of things for her to do right here at the Venetian—the unique stores, the singing gondoliers, the gelato, the Hermitage art museum adjacent to the lobby. Megan would be able to check them all out later this weekend. First she had to get Faith safely married to Caine.
“We’re actually a little ahead of schedule, if you can believe that,” Megan said as she checked her appearance in the mirror on the wall. She and Faith were waiting in a small room designated for brides just off the wedding chapel area. Like the rest of the hotel it was elaborately decorated in creams and gold.
“The Venetian was one of my favorite places when I lived here in Vegas and worked at the library,” Faith said. “And since Caine and I met in Italy, it seemed like a nice vibe to add to the ceremony without having to return to the Amalfi Coast. Not that I wouldn’t love to go back there. But this time we’re honeymooning in New Zealand. And I’m not honeymooning alone. Not that I really was alone last time because I met Caine there, on my supposed honeymoon trip that I took on my own. I’m babbling, right? Yes, I’m incoherently babbling. I babble when I’m nervous. But I’m not really nervous. Should I be nervous? Are you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous,” Megan said.
“Because you’re not the bride and you’re the optimist in the family.”
“No, because I know Caine would never let you down.” Megan was getting tired of being the optimist in the family but it was hard to change her image after all this time. Sure, Faith had become a blonde with an edgy look, but that wasn’t Megan’s style.
One former beau had described Megan as the girl-next-door type with her dark brown hair, blue eyes and freckles. Megan wasn’t sure she liked being a “type.” She knew one thing for sure—her fashion style was vintage. The classic 1950s dress she was wearing as a bridesmaid was a perfect example. The pintucked black taffeta-and-velvet dress had a scooped neck and full skirt that made it both classic and elegant.
Faith looked beautiful in her wedding gown, a simple strapless design. She’d chosen a black-and-white theme with red rose accents for her evening ceremony.
Staring at their side-by-side reflection in the mirror, Faith said, “When we were growing up on the South Side of Chicago did you ever think we’d end up here with me getting married at the Venetian in Las Vegas?”
Megan grinned. “Sure. Didn’t you?”
“I knew we’d both be librarians when we grew up.” Faith grabbed Megan’s hand before turning to face her. “You know you’re more like my sister than my cousin, right?”
Megan blinked away the tears. “Yeah, I know. Now don’t make me cry.” She waved her free hand in front of her face. “My mascara will run.”
“Oh, no. What would Jane Austen say?” Faith teased her.
“Funny how you ended up going back to Jane Austen after trying to come up with some other incarnation,” Megan said.
“Funny how you didn’t have a similar identity crisis.”
Megan had learned early in life that a crisis was not a good thing. Just one of the ways that she and Faith were different. Faith had grown up with both parents. Megan hadn’t. Sure, her dad had done his best to be there for her, but he couldn’t replace a mother. Faith’s mom had done her best too, and Megan loved her to bits for trying. But it wasn’t the same.
As if on cue, Faith’s mom entered the room. “How are things going in here? Everything under control?”
“Absolutely.” Today Megan was all about control. The music, the flowers, the seating arrangement for the ceremony, the meal afterward. She’d checked and double-checked it all.
“You two.” Faith’s mom blinked back tears, unable to continue, and instead simply cupped their cheeks.
Megan was well aware that the number two was a recurring theme in her