“Hey, that guy you met last night was pretty cute.” Blythe Williamson crossed her arms and smiled.

“That guy was an assassin. He tried to kill me.” I didn’t look up from my book and flipped to another page.

“Still, he’s cute,” she sighed.

“Stop trying to set me up. You’re not good at it. He was out to murder my boss and me.” I snapped the book shut and glared at her.

“But he was, like, so toned! Did you see his muscles?” Blythe began pouring out a cup of coffee.

“Shut up. I saw his muscles when he threw a knife at me.” I stood up. The TV continued to blare news about the missing girl from several nights ago. She hasn’t been found yet.

“At least we were trained to defend ourselves at our old school. You nearly stabbed him.” Blythe flicked her golden blond hair away from her eyes as she drank her coffee. Her emerald green eyes glittered.

“The key word is nearly. I didn’t manage to get a hit on him, all I could do was deflect his blows. He tried killing me a grand total of eight times while I fought him off. You know, you could’ve helped me.” I murmured.

I ran a hand over the weapon he’d used. It was a silver blade, a pugio, a blunt Roman dagger that was used in ancient times. He’d lost it when I had stopped it with my bulletproof Kevlar vest.

“Tessa!” Blythe picked up a stiletto knife and began twirling it.

“Blythe!” I echoed, smirking. I took away the stiletto from her.

“He could’ve been your one chance at love.” Blythe shook her head resignedly. She was head over heels in love with her boyfriend, Anders Nightshade. I knew Anders from our high school days.

“My one chance at love is dead.” I had married Connor Williamson, my sweetheart from grad school. He was killed during our two week honeymoon last year. After the police arrived and questions were asked, I had shown up at Blythe’s door with tears running down my face. Since that day, I’d lived with her.

“Thankfully, we’re bridesmaids for Lucia and Jon.” Blythe smirked at me, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I rolled my eyes. “I have enough weapons expertise to scare off guys in the groom’s party who think they can charm me into liking them.”

“Seriously, though. I want you to meet someone and fall in love!” She reached out and smacked my arm lightly.

“Blythe, I am a bodyguard of someone who is both hated and loved within the business world. I think falling in love with someone has to come after they aren’t scared off by my weapons, yes?” I raised an eyebrow.

The doorbell rang before she answered. I walked through our living room and peered at the doorway through the peephole. It was someone who was petite and dark-haired, her eyes were deep chocolate pools.

“B, your friend is here!” I walked back to the kitchen and poured out the rest of my sparkling water.

Blythe opened the door. They squealed and hugged, leaping up and down. Blythe walked into the living room, the woman following her deep-skinned and smiling.

“Who’s this?” Blythe’s friend asked.

“Lucia, this is Theresa Gallagher. Tessa, this is Lucia Patel, in the near future she’s going to be Mrs. Carmichael.” Blythe smiled as Lucia sat down at the bar stool across from me.

I forced a smile as I poured water into a tall frosted glass. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for thinking of us as your bridesmaids.”

“Of course. Do you have a date to the wedding?” Lucia tilted her head as I slid over a glass of water over the counter towards her.

“I do.” I had mentioned going to a wedding during a group meeting and Mr. Santos had volunteered to be my date. Adrian Santos was a few years older than me and was immensely successful, being the heir to his father, an oil tycoon. Adrian had made the company rise in the energy and new technology industry since his takeover almost a year ago.

“He’s the hottest man out there, besides Anders.” Blythe sighed. It was true, Adrian was good-looking. That was how he’d gone on dates with multiple supermodels and actresses who seemed otherwise uninterested in him. Those women had eyed me, deemed me not a threat, and then proceeded to flirt up a storm with him.

“Who is it?” Lucia sipped her water, her eyes cutting to mine.

“Adrian Santos.” I began cutting up a lemon to avoid looking at her.

I heard a choking noise and then coughing.

“The man behind Extensia?” Lucia asked. I nodded.

“Tell her, Tessa, how do you know him?” Blythe smirked.

“He’s my boss.” I flushed an angry red as Lucia gasped.

“What do you do for him?” Lucia looked over my shoulder at the TV. The anchorwoman began talking about Mr. Santos and his personal life. Recently, he’d been involved with a widow named Emily Harrington, the daughter of a senator. But the news was gossip that he’d been with a country singer, Erika Johansson.

“I’m his bodyguard.” I admitted, taking a knife from the plastic bin I kept next to our couch. I spun the blade in a circle.

“He needs one?” Lucia arched a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’d be surprised how many people are after him. There’s another bodyguard, Tamlin Calderon, but he’s in Los Angeles right now for family reasons.” I shrugged.

“This means you’re all set for the wedding. Great!” Lucia smiled. She said something to Blythe. She opened the door for the bride-to-be and Lucia left.

“She was planning on setting up everyone in her bridal party with someone from the groom’s party if it came down to it.” Blythe shook her head.

“I don’t think Mr. Santos would mind if I went with someone else.” I shrugged.

Blythe sighed. There was a clip of an interview where Mr. Santos denied all relations with Erika Johansson.

“But he likes you! I saw it when he dropped you off that one time.” Blythe had seen him for a grand total of ten minutes when I had come home. Mr. Santos had said hello politely before making sure I was okay.

“Bee, he’s like thirty five.” I groused. Every time I mentioned having him as a date, she insisted that he liked me.

“And you’re twenty nine! The age difference isn’t that bad.” Blythe looked pleased with herself as she bit into a peanut butter-chocolate chip cookie.

“I don’t think he thinks of me that way, but thanks for pointing that out.” I scowled.

The next day was our dress fitting. Lucia was a vision in her one-shouldered white lace dress, accented with golden threading around her bodice. I smoothed my hands over the shimmery navy blue fabric of my sleeveless dress. There was a black mesh circle across my collarbone that emphasized the slenderness of my neck, according to the tailor. Blythe was glowing in her sky blue cap-sleeved sheath dress. Lucia had chosen each of the bridesmaid dresses with the wearer’s personality and style in mind.

Because Lucia and Jason hadn’t met traditionally, they decided to skip the bachelorette and bachelor parties, going straight to the wedding. It had been two weeks and Mr. Santos still was my date, much to my chagrin.

Fluttering, sweet string quartet music began to play as we walked down the aisle. The flower girls, clad in pale pink gowns, scattered rose petals before us. I sighed and continued holding my bouquet. When we reached the altar, Blythe turned and we fanned out behind her. Mr. Santos winked at me from across the aisle. I gritted my teeth.

Lucia, a living goddess in white, began floating down the aisle. Jason Carmichael smiled as she reached the altar.

The priest before them began rambling.

At last, he said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace. Do we have any objections?”

One man stood up. Someone in the audience gasped. It was Lucia’s ex-boyfriend, Laurent Kelly.

“I object! They are marrying after three months of dating and she still has yet to break up with me.” Laurent walked up to the altar. The priest gaped at him. Lucia paled under her makeup. Laurent and Lucia had broken up over a year ago.

“Lucia, do you love him?” Laurent demanded.

She glared at Laurent. “Yes, I do.”

“Does he fulfill your every need? Answer me honestly.” Laurent yanked her hand away from the bouquet of white roses she held. The bouquet fell to the ground. Laurent held her hand. Jason looked green.

“No,” Lucia murmured, her eyes focused on the ground.

“Then that’s it!” Laurent pulled her away from the altar. Guests began mumbling. A blade shot forward and pinned Laurent by the sleeve to the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jason pulled the thin silvery knife away from Laurent’s sleeve and lifted him up. Laurent struggled against his hold.

“Don’t touch him!” Lucia cried. Jason ignored her and punched Laurent across the jaw.

“Leave! Now, Laurent! Or the whole audience will want a piece of you.” Blythe angled her head to the exit. Laurent nodded and sprinted through the wooden doors.

Then, the wedding continued without a hitch. Their venue, the Astorian Hotel, was perfect. Golden lights bobbed from brass, copper, and aluminum fixtures on the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the downtown skyline of Houston, all steel, cars, and noise. Lucia’s family stood out in their colorful, intricately-printed saris and tunics.

Someone touched my shoulder. It was Blythe, with Anders lingering behind her. Anders was talking to Mr. Santos about a recent acquisition of J’Orde, a pharmaceutical company. Blythe nudged me.

“He’s been watching you during the ceremony, Tessa. You should talk to him.” Blythe wiggled her eyebrows.

“Stop it.” I groaned. “Nothing romantic is going to happen between us. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Theresa?” It was Mr. Santos. “Will you dance with me?”

I nodded and put my hands on his shoulders. We began swaying to the music, a soft, nice melody from Chopin.

“I thought you were going to pin him, you know.” I said. Mr. Santos was known in the boardroom for having an expression close to glacial, and yet today, his eyes had smoldered when Laurent had begun to yell about how Lucia belonged with him.

“Laurent Kelly is an old friend. Jason Carmichael is a better friend, so I would have tackled him if only the wedding would continue.” Mr. Santos smiled.

“There are many things I don’t know about you, Mr. Santos.” I watched Lucia and Jason on the center of the dance floor.

“Adrian. May I call you Tessa?” He looked vulnerable, his glass blue eyes shining.

“Yes,” I settled my head against his shoulder carefully, making sure not to mess up my intricate braid. His arms tightened slightly around my waist. I gently unwound myself from the circle of his arms when I noticed Blythe getting onto a chair and glancing at a wrinkled piece of paper.

Blythe climbed up onto a table, wobbling for a bit in her high heels before finding her balance.

“May I have your attention!”

Anders clicked his fork against a flute of champagne to catch everyone’s attention.

“I would like to thank you all for coming. As the maid of honor, Lucia, I’m so happy you’ve finally met your match. I remember in second grade when all you’d do with me is chase after bugs. I’m so glad you’ve decided to stick with me through everything from kindergarten to grad school. You are cherished and loved beyond your imagination. You are a phenomenal woman who deserves the world. Jason can give you the world. I hope that from now on, you both are prosperous and healthy. I know I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a friend like you.” Blythe’s eyes shone and tears began falling down her face. She climbed down from the table and found her seat.

The crowd broke into clapping, tears, and smiles.

“That was sweet.” Adrian mused as the music began again.

“It was.” I agreed morosely.

“Maybe one day, you’ll find that kind of love too.” The way he spoke was a soft promise.