Every Little Piece of Me

It's not every day you're invited to your wife's wedding . . . as a guest. The first time I saw Brinley Knox, she was crying, draped in a ridiculous pink tulle dress for her sweet sixteen, and cursing the boy who'd broken her heart. I was the hired help, a teenage charity case. She was the daughter of the wealthiest family in Orchid Valley. I knew a girl like Brinley was off-limits. That didn't stop me from kissing her. Or from promising that if she were ever mine, I'd never let her go. The last time I saw Brinley, she was sleeping, tangled in the sheets of my Vegas penthouse, my diamond glittering on her finger. I returned three hours later to an empty bed, the ring on the dresser, and a goodbye note. We haven't spoken in the six months since, but I'm not the kind of guy who'd file for a divorce he doesn't want. Until I got this damn invitation, it never occurred to me that Brinley didn't remember our impulsive Vegas nuptials. It's time to return to Orchid Valley and remind the bride-to-be that I'm a man who keeps his promises.