Chapter 4

The couple did have a very small bridal party. Behind Stephen stood a beautiful, lanky, black-haired female in cream-colored pumps and a matching dress, who I presumed was the bridesmaid. The gray-eyed fairy could not stop crying during the ceremony and was constantly rubbing tissues against the edges of her eyes.

Next to Ira was my guest of choice, whom I had seen numerous times at other weddings in the last few years. The thirty-five year old eye-catcher stood tall and proud, unwavering and muscular, which reminded me of the poise of a dignified Spartan. Ira’s groomsman was a brute of a man at five-eleven with a rust-colored crew cut, closely trimmed beard, one hundred and eighty pounds, and twinkling eyes. His jawline could cut steel. His thick neck, what I could see of it, was corded with veins, which told me that he worked out and enjoyed taking care of his body. Handsome seemed to undercut the man as a label. Rather, he was mouthwatering and tantalizing, agreeable for my needs