"Stop fidgeting with your tie or I'll tie you to the chair with it."
Alek shot an amused glance at Franklin, who sat comfortably in the groom's suite of the historic Boston estate they'd chosen for the wedding. Despite doctors' warnings about overexertion, Emma's grandfather had insisted on being Alek's best man—"Since I'm giving away the bride, I might as well complete the set," he'd declared.
"Just making sure everything's perfect," Alek replied, adjusting his cufflinks for the fourth time.
"She's not marrying you for your tie, son." Franklin's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Though I must say, that Russian frame of yours displays a tuxedo admirably."
The door opened as Walter entered, clipboard in hand as always. "Five minutes, gentlemen. Guests are seated. Bride is ready."
Franklin
