Out of all the people I could've been stuck with, it had to be this asshat, Angelo, who had been pacing the foyer like some caged animal like his world might end if he stood still for five seconds. And who wears a tie to a nightclub anyway? With his dark suit, sleek auburn hair and his ridiculous black tie, one would think he's a bodyguard, not a prince and certainly not my sister's husband.
"Quit pacing. You're driving me insane," I scowled.
"Trust me, wait until you see what they're wearing," he retorted. "My pacing will be the least of your problems."
My gut sank. I knew this was a bad idea.
"We're ready!" Rayna's voice echoed through the foyer.
She pulls a nervous Rosie down the stairs.
