Chapter 19 NINETEEN
The morning started at six, which was completely ridiculous for someone who'd barely slept three hours. Lennox woke up to her phone buzzing and Patricia's voice chirping through the speaker.
"Rise and shine, darling! Hair and makeup will be there in twenty minutes."
She hadn't even said yes before the line went dead.
By six-thirty, her hotel suite looked like a salon. Three stylists setting up stations, racks of beauty products Lennox couldn't name, someone steaming her dress in the corner. Patricia arrived at seven with coffee and croissants nobody ate, directing traffic like a general commanding troops.
"Emma, stop touching your hair. Mrs. Rivers, please sit down, you're making everyone nervous. Lennox, drink some water, you look pale."
Her mom was already crying and it wasn't even eight AM.
"I just can't believe my baby's getting married," she kept saying, dabbing at her eyes with tissues Patricia kept handing her.
Emma bounced around taking photos of everything. The dress hanging on the door, the shoes that cost more than her car, Lennox getting her makeup done while trying not to move.
"This is literally a fairytale," Emma gushed. "Wait until I post these. Everyone's going to die."
"No social media until after the ceremony," Patricia said firmly. "We need to control the narrative."
Control the narrative. Right. Because this was apparently a PR event, not a wedding.
The stylist pulled at Lennox's hair, pinning and curling and spraying until it didn't move. The makeup artist layered on foundation and contour and about six different eye shadows. They kept stepping back to examine her like she was a painting they were working on.
"More blush. She's too pale."
"The lashes need another coat."
"Can we do something about the darkness under her eyes?"
Yeah, she thought. You could let me sleep more than three hours before the biggest performance of my life.
By ten, she was transformed. Hair swept up in some complicated style with tiny crystals woven through it. Makeup so perfect it didn't look like makeup. Nails painted a soft pink that Patricia had picked out three days ago.
They got her into the dress at ten-thirty. Four people helping because apparently you couldn't just put on a fifty-thousand-dollar gown like normal clothes. They zipped and buttoned and adjusted until everything sat exactly right.
When they finally let her look in the mirror, Lennox barely recognized herself.
The woman staring back looked expensive. Polished. Like someone who belonged in Callum's world of mansions and charity galas and black cards with no limit.
"Oh honey," her mom breathed, fresh tears starting. "You're so beautiful."
Emma was filming everything, not even trying to hide it anymore. "This is insane. You look like an actual princess."
Patricia circled her slowly, examining every detail. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect." She checked her watch. "We need to leave in fifteen minutes. Photographer's waiting at The Plaza."
The photographer took about a thousand pictures before the ceremony. Lennox alone, Lennox with her mom and Emma, Lennox holding her bouquet, Lennox looking contemplative out a window. Posed perfection for the wedding album they'd probably never look at.
"Can you give me a smile? Something softer, more natural."
She tried. Pulled her mouth into what she hoped looked like bridal joy and not the panic currently eating her alive.
Patricia disappeared to check on things, came back nodding. "Everything's ready. Guests are seated. Callum's at the altar." She squeezed Lennox's hand. "You're going to be wonderful."
The ceremony was in a smaller ballroom, intimate by rich people standards. Thirty people watching, which somehow felt like way too many. White roses everywhere, string quartet playing something classical, afternoon light streaming through tall windows.
Her mom walked her down the aisle because her dad had died when she was twelve and there was nobody else. Emma followed behind, maid of honor in a dress Patricia had picked.
And there was Callum at the end of it all.
He looked perfect, obviously. Custom tuxedo that probably cost more than most people's rent, dark hair styled just enough to look effortless, face completely unreadable, still the man was as handsome as sin. Cole stood next to him as best man, giving Lennox a small encouraging smile as she approached.
The officiant started talking about love and commitment and building a life together. Words that should've meant something but just felt hollow when you knew the truth.
Callum took her hands. His were warm, steady. She was shaking and couldn't stop.
They went through the vows. Traditional ones, nothing personal. Repeating after the officiant like they were reading from a script they'd barely memorized.
"I, Callum, take you, Lennox, to be my lawfully wedded wife."
His voice was steady, calm. Like he was reading quarterly earnings reports instead of promising forever to another human being.
"To have and to hold from this day forward."
Lennox's voice cracked on her vows. She had to clear her throat, start again. Her mom was definitely crying. Emma too, probably. Patricia looked satisfied, like everything was going according to plan.
"For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer."
God, the irony of that one.
"In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
Till death or two years, whichever came first.
The rings were simple platinum bands. Callum slid hers on, his fingers gentle despite everything. She did the same for him, her hands still trembling.
"By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant smiled at them. "You may kiss your bride."
Callum's hand came up to cup her cheek. For a second, just a second, something shifted in his eyes. Something almost soft.
Then he leaned in and kissed her.
It was brief, appropriate for an audience. But his hand trembled slightly against her face. Just a little. Barely noticeable.
But she noticed.
The small crowd applauded. Emma was openly sobbing. Patricia looked triumphant. And just like that, Lennox Rivers became Lennox Westbrook.
The reception was in the grand ballroom, bigger and more elaborate than the ceremony. Two hundred people this time, all of them important in ways Lennox didn't understand. Business associates, society friends, people with old money and older names.
She and Callum sat at a head table, his hand resting on the back of her chair like they did this every day. Playing the part of newlyweds while strangers gave speeches about love and happiness and their bright future together.
Cole's speech was surprisingly sweet. He talked about Callum finding someone who made him smile, who brought light into his life, how he'd never seen his brother happier. It would've been touching if any of it were real.
Patricia's speech was perfect and practiced, welcoming Lennox into the family with warmth that felt genuine enough Lennox almost believed it.
Then Victor Harding stood up.
"To Callum and Lennox," he said, his voice carrying across the ballroom. "May your marriage be everything you both need it to be."
Everyone drank. Everyone smiled. But Victor's eyes stayed on Lennox, sharp and assessing in a way that made her skin crawl. She really didn’t think he liked her much.
"Welcome to the family, my dear," he added, still looking at her. "I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other."
The rest of the reception blurred together. First dance where Callum held her properly but distantly. Cake cutting for the cameras. Endless conversations with people whose names she'd forget immediately.
Callum barely spoke to her except when necessary. A few words during photos, brief comments when people approached. Otherwise he was somewhere else mentally, going through motions.
Around nine, exhausted and desperate for a break, Lennox went back to the head table to grab her clutch. That's when she saw it.
A note under her plate. Heavy cream cardstock, folded once.
She picked it up with shaking hands, opened it carefully.
Welcome to the family. We should talk soon. - V
Victor. She looked up, scanning the ballroom. Found him near the bar, talking with board members. He glanced her way at exactly that moment, caught her staring. Smiled. Raised his glass slightly.
Lennox shoved the note into her clutch, her heart pounding. This was bad. This was very bad.
"You okay?"
She jumped. Callum had appeared beside her, his hand on her lower back. For the cameras, probably.
"Fine. Just tired."
"We can leave soon." He was already looking past her, toward someone else. "One more hour of photos and we're done."
One thought lingered in her head, she would have to work extra hard to make sure Victor didn’t suspect a thing about this arrangement, that’s if he already didn’t. She really needed this whole thing to work because she had come this far already.