Chapter 3

Gilly caught her breath. "The rumors couldn't have been further from the truth" she quipped, then streamed across the room to take Rhylan's hands in hers. "Rhylan, no man has ever looked better in a damn suit. He's…gorgeous. Sexy. He's like the guys we read about in fairytales. Jeez, you're one lucky girl my friend."

Warm tears tracked down Rhylan's face. It worked, she hummed silently. Gilly whipped out a handkerchief in a flash and gently padded the tears off.

"No, don't cry. You have absolutely no reason to worry. No bachelor in utopia can hold a candle to your groom. You have to see him, Rhylan. He's…delicious to look at."

Taller than most men in utopia. A curly mane of brown hair that flattered his angular face. Eyes that any woman will readily get lost in. A hypnotic smile that can make one's inner thighs tingle.

Rhylan silently checked off everything Gilly described. It was just as she had read, just as she recalled.

"Forgive me Rhylan but every damsel out there wants your man, including me." A big smile tugged Rhylan's cheeks now. If she could laugh without snapping a thread or two, she would have risked it.

"Oh my god, I wish I was eighteen so I would have qualified for the marriage proposal. My aunt would never have passed up that money even if I was marrying a serial killer. Then I would be the one waking up to that breathtaking face every morning."

Rhylan fought back a blush. "Enough Gilly." She turned to hide a deeper, crimson blush spreading across her cheeks like a blood stain. "We'll have to walk in any time now. Help me with my veil, please?"

"Oh, now you are eager to walk down the aisle, huh?" Gilly teased even as she picked up the veil reverently and placed it on her friend's head. With the veil hiding her face, Rhylan clutched her bouquet tightly and shut her eyes.

She was glad that Calvin Banks was everything she had imagined. The gasps in the hall had gone quiet but she was very certain people were having a hard time peeling their eyes off the strangely gorgeous man getting married to one of their own.

Hers was a story almost as unbelievable as Cinderella's when a fairy godmother altered her fate with the swipe of a wand in one night. In Rhylan's case, it had been three. Three fellows in the shadowy corners of the biggest library in utopia, fellows she had never encountered before.

It was seven short days ago. She had returned to her nest in the library to distract herself from the pain and anger knotted inside her following the swing of wedding preparations in her home. Rhylan thought she would lose her mind if she spent one more day cooped up in her room, with a tear-stained face and murderous intents.

Gilly had been a big help in dragging her to the library and shoving new romantic titles in her face.

"New arrivals" Gilly said. Enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, office romance. All your favorite tropes." But Rhylan's tired eyes didn't twinkle with excitement as they used to. She opted to try a different genre, to wander away from the snatches of conversations wondering who the unlucky bride was. And that she did, until she found her fingers feathering the pages of a dusty leatherback in a poorly lit section of the library.

That was when she heard them. A little tirade in hushed tones. When she followed the sound, she saw them. They were huddled over a desk that looked suspiciously out of place in the austere space. One man and two women, all of middle age. They were draped in simple clothes in the same bright shades of a tricolor; white, blue and red. They could have passed for the library regulars, except their accent was washed up but exotic.

They looked up.

"Good. We have company" One of the ladies said with a glittery smile. "Can you help us answer a simple question? Please dear?"

Rhylan looked around to make sure she was the one being referred to. "What?" All six pairs of curious eyes were fixated on her, and it worsened her anxiety.

"Would you rather choose a groom from any romantic novel ever written to wed you or would you prefer to write out the qualities of your dream man in a magical diary and sign it to make him materialize?"

Those eyes pierced more heavily now. Their smiles didn't make her feel better.

"Why does my opinion matter?" Rhylan asked glumly. "I'm sorry. I am not really in the mood to indulge your fantasies. Excuse me" She had barely turned when she heard the man.

"But it's not our fantasy; it's yours, Rhylan Hicks."

When she whirled, he was standing, thumbs hooked in his pockets. "Let's try that again." He took a step forward. She took two back. "Would you rather choose a groom from any romantic novel ever written to wed you or would you prefer to write out the qualities of your dream man in a magical diary you'll be given and sign it to make him materialize? What is it going to be?"

Rhylan blinked. Was she hallucinating?

"No, you aren't hallucinating." The second lady spoke up, standing as well. "We are real. Our offer is real, as real as your imminent marriage. We know all about you Rhylan." Her smile widened maternally. "It's been a delight watching you spend time here, faithfully reading every romance title on the shelf since you were twelve"

"And during the last week preceding your eighteenth birthday." the first lady continued, "you completed one thousand romance novels before turning eighteen."

Rhylan stared at the ladies. "What does that mean?"

"It means you finally qualified for a once in a lifetime, special offer from us." The man stepped back to align with the ladies in a triangle. "We are an elite book club called Readym, and for generations, we've had the privilege of rewarding faithful romance readers that meet our requirement with the special offer. We consider you extremely lucky to have qualified just when you're about to make a life changing decision such as marriage."

Rhylan laughed now. She had thought she was hallucinating.

They had given her three days! Three days to choose a groom using any of the two options or the offer would be considered waived. It was really crazy, and unbelievable. She chuckled as she remembered the encounter.

"You're smiling." Gilly chanted with a sunny smile of hers. "Looks good on you." She resumed tidying up the dressing room as they prepared to leave.

Rhylan still found that encounter a funny one and wished she had the courage to let Gilly in on it. But she wasn't ready. She still struggled to believe it herself. She couldn't wait to see him; the man she had chosen from the pages of her favorite book to be her husband.

Now that he was here and his presence had registered the desired effect on the guests, she could only hope that the second phase of her dream wedding could take effect; Calvin looking at her the way he was described to look at his love interest. His skinny love interest.

Rhylan looked down and gripped her expensive wedding dress. Did Calvin really pick this? It was definitely made for someone thinner. He must really like thin girls.

With every step she took towards the entrance of the wedding hall, she swore something snapped, internally and externally. Gilly trailed behind, escorting her down a hallway hazed in slivers of sunlight from high windows. Rhylan's silver shoes clipped over the gleaming wooden floor. The moment the curtains came into full view, she stood frozen. Her breath backed up in her lungs.

Beyond those curtains stood a swarm of guests that were about to have their jaws hit the floor when she stepped through. A bunch of spinsters biting down on their lips waited to lynch her with their eyes and cuss her out. Then there was Calvin, her groom, whom she knew everything about, and somehow nothing about till they meet in person. Rhylan's stomach grumbled with nausea.

"What is it?" Gilly asked, stepping in front of her.

"I…what if he doesn't like me?"

"Nonsense" The response was sharp and fast. "He isn't the catch he thinks he is if he can't appreciate your beauty, Rhylan. Besides, he should be the one worried that you might not fancy him. From what I garnered from the contract, you're doing him a favor by marrying him. Always remember that."

Rhylan smiled. "I'm sure the ladies will topple over each other to accept his proposal if I develop cold feet now."

Gilly shrugged. "You're definitely right. So, how about we keep it moving before everyone thinks we have a case of a running bride" she squeezed Rhylan's hand. "Don't give those snobbish spinsters the satisfaction of thinking your groom is remotely within their reach"

"You're right." Rhylan nodded and resumed taking one slow step after another. But her head didn't stop spinning. Her stomach still vibrated with fear. If she had seconds to spare, she would have loved to throw up in a flower vase.

"I'm sure he likes curvy ladies." Gilly tossed her head and winked.

"No. He definitely likes them thin." The instant response earned her a curious stare from Gilly.

"How do you know that? He isn't utopian. He could very well prefer women who aren't skinny."

Rhylan swallowed hard at the suspicious glint in her friend's eyes. "My gown. He picked it. It's two sizes smaller than me. He obviously hopes I am skinny." Gilly gave her a measuring glance, from the gaping bulge of her d-cup breasts to the swell of her ass protruding behind the dress.

They were at the curtain now. Gilly shrugged lazily. "Well, there's only one way to find out."