Chapter 39
It was a crisp and unusually bright May day in the city, which Malice took credit for, insisting it was part of his master orchestration of the “hottest gay wedding since Ellen and Portia tumbled down the aisle.” Neal nursed a Diet Coke in bed, surveying his studio apartment which was a messy mix of nuptial chaos. A teetering tower of Wedding Issue magazines hovered over three dozen color fabric “day theme” samples, a slew of discarded invitation envelopes, DJ audition sampler CDs and seven wilted bunches of flowers. There was a yellowing New York Times article about Campillo de Ranas, a small village in Spain where chic gay couples were tying the knot. Neal had nixed that Malice-inspired brainstorm. The buzzer blared. It was Nick on his way up with one of the bridesboys. Origi
