He was wearing a dress to his own wedding. There wasn’t much that Russell wouldn’t do for Jia. After all, he’d gone to hell and back for her. He was more than ready to pledge his undying love and devotion to her in just a few minutes. But this was almost more than he could stomach. Traditional ceremonial gown for the groom, she had called it, but it looked like a damned dress to him. Gold silk with black trim, official tiger colors, she’d told him. The gown reached his ankles and was tied with a black sash embroidered with golden tigers. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was wearing a ridiculous hat on his head that looked like a miniature black UFO. With beads. His only consolation was that his three groomsmen, Rajiv, Zoltan, and Howard, had to wear dresses, too. In fact, it was worth wearing the damned dress just to hear Howard grumbling and growling. And the strings of beads hanging in front of his face were not so bad, since they obstructed his view enough that he couldn’t see the other guys smirking at him.
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