The ‘brides’ bedroom in the Winderfeld mansion was about five times the size of Neal’s studio apartment. There was a seating area with two sofas, a dressing room, and a canopy bed set off against one wall. Three sets of double windows looked out onto the garden below, where the ceremony set-up was being completed. The bedroom’s floor was marble, the walls covered with a tiny blue bud wallpaper pattern. Nick kept yanking Neal away from the window, terrified that Dewalt might see him.
“I didn’t know you were so traditional,” Neal said.
There was little for Neal to do. He’d had a lengthy shower, shaved and primped his hair. All he had to do was slip on his tux. Malice had set up a bar stocked with champagne, Diet Coke and Red Bull. Neal was on his third Diet Coke, afraid the Red Bull may
