Chapter 148 Getting Married
As Leopold frowned, trying to place the lyrics he had just heard, he caught Caroline's subtle gesture out of the corner of his eye—a discreetly formed number nine with her fingers.
He smoothly averted his gaze, his expression unchanging, and quietly wrote a "9" on the paper in front of him.
"Next question," Erica announced, her voice bright. "Please listen to the song."
The music started again, another snippet of a melody filling the room.
"What," Erica paused for dramatic effect, "is the singer's primary wish in this song?"
Maddox's eyes widened in disbelief. "Erica, come on. Have a heart."
A playful smile touched Erica's lips as she glanced at him. "You can do it. Just use that big brain of yours."
Unfazed, Leopold calmly jotted down his answer. Maddox leaned over, attempting a desperate peek at his friend's paper, but Erica was too quick for him. "No cheating," she declared, pointing a finger at him. "You're eliminated."
Maddox threw his hands up in a gesture of complete surrender.
As Erica confiscated his answer sheet, he could only offer Leopold a look of solemn encouragement. "Sorry, man. You're our last hope."
Leopold gave him a long, pointed look. "I never should have trusted you. I should have picked a smarter best man."
Maddox made a face, which earned him a light smack on the arm from Erica. "Useless at the most critical moment," she teased.
She then took Leopold's paper, and the entire room, including the photographers, seemed to hold its breath.
Lenses zoomed in on the sheet of paper, as if afraid to miss a single detail. I saw that he got all the foreign language listening comprehension questions right earlier, and surprisingly, he also got all three of the music recognition questions correct.
Erica lifted her gaze, a flicker of genuine surprise in her eyes. "A perfect score."
"See? Perfect score," Maddox crowed from the sidelines, puffing out his chest. "Didn't even need my help."
"The only thing you helped with," Erica shot back, "was getting in the way." He was left speechless for the third time in ten minutes, a fact that drew a fresh wave of laughter from everyone else.
"Can I go in now?" Leopold asked.
Erica stepped aside, clearing the path. "Please. But you can't take Caroline with you until you find her wedding shoes. She can't very well leave without them."
Maddox immediately volunteered, thumping his chest with bravado. "Leave it to me. I've got this."
Despite his best man's confident display, Leopold wasn't about to stand idly by. "Let's go. We need to find them quickly."
The two men began to search the room. It wasn't large, but every conceivable hiding place—under the bed, inside drawers, behind furniture—yielded nothing.
They went through every spot, but the shoes remained stubbornly hidden. From her seat, Caroline felt a surge of admiration for Erica's cleverness. Just as her friend had planned, all the usual spots had been checked and re-checked, even on top of the wardrobe and inside the lampshades, to no avail.
Just as Leopold's gaze shifted toward Caroline, Erica intercepted his line of sight. "Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Groom. You and the bride have to play by the rules. No cheating."
Caroline ducked her head to hide a smile. Leopold scratched his eyebrow, his eyes scanning the room one more time. He noticed the curtains stir, lifted by a breeze from the slightly ajar window, and connected it to the subtle glance Caroline had given him moments before. He walked directly to the window.
His height gave him an advantage; leaning out just slightly, he spotted the elegant heels dangling just below the sill, secured by a ribbon. He pulled them inside and turned to Maddox.
"You might want to thank the maid of honor."
Maddox, catching on instantly, reached into his pocket and produced a red envelope filled with cash. "Thank you, maid of honor."
Erica accepted it with a gracious nod, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Your performance was seriously lacking."
He shot her an annoyed glare, then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. "Let's see who's crying tonight."
A blush bloomed on her cheeks like a peach blossom, and the sight sent a jolt of desire through him.
Caroline looked away, a quiet warmth spreading through her chest. If her best friend could find this kind of happiness, her own joy would be all the more complete.
Leopold knelt on one knee, gently taking Caroline's ankle to slide the shoe onto her foot. They proceeded through the remaining customs and formalities until the moment came for him to lift her into his arms and carry her from her family home. As he did, Caroline's eyes suddenly reddened, and Elysia, watching her daughter, burst into tears.
It wasn't until she was settled in the car that the full weight of the moment hit her. Looking back, she saw her parents on the curb, Elijah supporting a weeping Elysia. Caroline rolled down the window, reaching for her mother's hand. "Mom," she managed, but no other words would come.
Elijah placed a steadying hand on Elysia's shoulder, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Let her go," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "We can't make her late for her own wedding."
Elysia's heart ached with a profound sense of loss and love. The daughter she had raised for over twenty years was leaving. How could she ever be ready to let go?
The bridal car began to move, pulling away from the curb. Relatives murmured their admiration for Elijah's composure, noting that some fathers cried harder than their daughters at weddings, yet he hadn't shed a single tear.
No one saw him, moments later, in his own car, turn away and discreetly wipe his eyes with a tissue. There was no father unmoved by such a day; some love was just deeper, more restrained, not meant for public display. If anyone ever hurt Caroline, he would be the first to her defense.
Meanwhile, at the Solstice Mountain Hotel, preparations were in full swing. Leopold had arranged for Quinlan to be brought to the hotel earlier that morning, setting her up to rest in his private suite. Lily, who knew Quinlan well, kept her company, chatting quietly.
Hearing the commotion from downstairs, Lily rose. "Ms. Barnes, I think we should head down. The wedding party has arrived."
Quinlan followed Lily to the lobby. Guests were arriving in a steady stream, and the parking lot in front of the hotel filled in the blink of an eye. Security guards were now directing the flow of traffic, guiding incoming vehicles to an adjacent lot.
Leopold had escorted Caroline to the bridal suite, where she would change into her second gown—a magnificent creation with a long, sweeping train—and have her hair and makeup redone. As Quinlan stepped out of the elevator, she saw Leopold in the grand lobby.
"Your father isn't here?" She asked, her tone clipped.
Leopold glanced at his watch. "He should be arriving soon."
While Lily and a few of Leopold's friends were busy greeting guests, a silver-gray Maybach pulled up to the entrance.
"He's here," Leopold said to Quinlan.
Though he hadn't used a name, Quinlan knew exactly who "he" was. She turned her face away with a flicker of disgust, having no desire to see Preston. But this was Leopold's wedding day, and for his sake, she would endure it.
"Mom, wait for me here," Leopold said, before heading toward the entrance. He walked briskly to the car, opened the rear door, and said formally, "Mr. Wipere."
Preston emerged from the vehicle, his movements unhurried and composed. He looked Leopold over, taking in the impeccably tailored suit. "Am I attending this wedding as Mr. Wipere, or as your father?"
Leopold inclined his head slightly. "If you don't mind, sir, I would prefer 'father'."
It was Preston himself who had insisted on the formality in public, a measure to prevent anyone from exploiting their relationship.
Preston's gaze swept past him. "Which hall is the ceremony in?"
Leopold gestured toward the main building. "This way, please."
Preston was familiar with the hotel's layout, having attended both its inauguration and grand opening. As he stepped into the lobby, his eyes immediately found Quinlan. She was as stunning as he remembered, her beauty so potent it seemed to pull the focus of the entire room. Even now, in middle age, she stood out, a radiant presence in the crowd.
He had intended to go to the private lounge, but his feet, acting on their own accord, began moving in her direction.