by J. Kenner
“You’re sure? You looked a little off there for a second.”
“Yes, well. It’s just that we may not be going at all.”
I take a step back. “What? Why not?”
His shoulders sag, as if someone has just released the air from his tires. “Evelyn told me about the text.”
“Oh.” I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“In her dress.”
“Evelyn came in here naked?”
My dad rolls his eyes. “She came in here in a dress, but not the one she’s getting married in.”
“Sorry. Being silly. Why on earth would that mean you’re not going to go?”
“Well, she’s his publicist. I know that she’s concerned about it leaking. And concerned about the spin if it does.”
I shake my head, then go sit down next to Bradley, who immediately snuggles up. “Do you really think Damien could handle knowing that his drama upset your honeymoon plans? I thought you two bonded better than that in Mexico.”
Damien had been my hero one Christmas when he’d flown down to get my father after his commercial flight was canceled. But then things got even crazier and the two almost ended up stranded down there over the holidays.
He cocks his head. “And do you think Evelyn could stand to be away if something broke and she wasn’t there to help?”
I grimace, not liking the way this conversation is going at all.
“Sweetheart, I walked away from you in hard times before. I’m not walking away from you and your husband this time. And neither is Evelyn.”
“You walked away from Elizabeth Fairchild, not me.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he says, and I have to agree he has a point.
“Well, maybe so,” I concede, “but you’re not walking away this time. I’m pushing you. Both of you. And so is Damien. He would hate for this to mess up your honeymoon. In fact, it will royally piss him off if you stay. Believe me, I know him. So does Evelyn, and she must know I’m right.”
“Nikki—”
I hold up a hand. “If it will make you feel any better, I promise we’ll reach out if it gets bad. But until we know who sent that video in the first place, and what they want to do with it, there’s nothing Evelyn can do anyway.”
“I told you. She can spin it if gets out.”
“That’s a big if. What if it doesn’t go out this week? This month? Are you going to indefinitely postpone your honeymoon while we all wait on tenterhooks?”
He frowns, but I know he sees the value of my argument.
“And seriously, it’s not as if we can’t communicate with you. There’s this keen invention called a phone. Email, too. Heck, we could even send a telegram.”
“All right, all right.”
“I promise, if it gets terrible, we will let you know. But enjoy your honeymoon, and let’s assume that this guy is just threatening. If he really wanted to release that video, he probably already would have. Besides, Evelyn told me Charles was working his legal mojo.”
“Yes,” Frank says. “Yes, he is. Evelyn took a call from him while we were together. He seems confident it’s buttoned down. His words.”
“Well, there you go.”
He frowns, but this time he doesn’t argue.
“The bottom line is that I love you, Daddy. And I know you walked away before, but you deserve a real marriage and a stress-free wedding and a honeymoon to go along with it. And honestly, I’ve learned the hard way that life with Damien has drama, but it’s nothing that we can’t face. We’ve been doing it for years.”
Frank’s brow rises. “I suppose you have, and he’s lucky to have you. I know he thinks so, too. Just like I’m lucky to have Evelyn.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“Well, I hope she thinks so.”
“I know so.” I grin. “I think sometimes it takes a while to find the people you’re meant to be with, but when you do, you know. Besides,” I add, “have you ever seen Evelyn do anything she doesn’t want to do?”
He grins, deepening the creases around his eyes. “I suppose you have a point there.”
“And as for Damien being lucky to have me, I’m just as lucky to have him. I think the universe was watching out for both of us. For you, too,” I add.
I reach out for his hand. “You found your way back to me, didn’t you? And that’s what led you to Evelyn. You made the decision, Daddy. You made the decision to come back into my life and make up for your past. And that opened all sorts of doors. The door that led to your future. To this future with a wife and grandkids. So don’t fuck with the universe, Daddy. Go on your honeymoon.”
Now he laughs outright. “When you put it that way, I don’t have much choice, do I?”
I bend forward to kiss my father’s cheek. “You don’t,” I say. “Where love is concerned, you haven’t got any choice at all.”
6
As the sun dips lower in the sky, fairy lights turn on, illuminating the trees in the distance and the wedding arch itself. Rectangular planters filled with roses have been placed on the outside of the chairs to form aisles, and the whole area looks even more beautiful than I’d hoped. In the distance, the pool lights have been set to a soft pink, and the light now illuminates the back of the house, creating a warm and welcoming glow where the reception will be held.
Judge Kaplan is presiding, a local LA judge who both Damien and Evelyn know from way back. He stands under the wedding arch as the guests take their seats to the soft strains of classical music coming through the hidden speakers. As the parents of the children in the ceremony, Jackson, Sylvia, and I are the last to sit, occupying the first row on the bride’s side, with Bradley standing on the aisle chair next to me so that he has a good view of his sisters.
“I’m so happy for them,” Syl says. She’s wearing her hair short, in the same flattering pixie style as on that long-ago day when I first met her. Then, she was Damien’s assistant. Now, she’s my sister-in-law. Not to mention one of my closest friends.
“Me, too. They’re perfect together.”
“And you look very handsome,” she adds to Bradley, who grins and says, “Thank you, Aunt Syvie.”
She blows him a kiss as Jackson leans over. “Your grandpa’s a good man,” he says, his blue eyes even more vivid than usual in the twinkling lights. As his half-brother, Jackson shares Damien’s dark, photogenic good looks. He shares his strength too. After all, they both survived growing up with Jeremiah Stark.
“And Evelyn is the best there is,” he continues, this time directing the words at me. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re a perfect match.”
I flash him a smile, then shift to sit forward in my chair as Frank moves from the shadows behind the arch to stand in the glow of the soft, twinkling lights.
I meet my father’s eyes, noting how proud and handsome he looks in his new suit, a gift in lieu of a bachelor party from Damien. He winks at me, and I know that his nerves have faded.
After a moment, the music changes, not the wedding march, but something of the same tempo, and beside me, Sylvia turns. I do as well to see Jeffery and Ronnie, my kids’ older cousins, start down the aisle. Jeffery looks dapper in his suit, and Ronnie looks beautiful and almost grown up in her pale pink dress.
“Ronnie!” Bradley calls, and everyone in the audience chuckles. To her credit, Ronnie grins at her cousin but doesn’t break stride.
I bend over. “Hush now. You can talk to them after the ceremony, okay?”
He nods. “Sorry, Mama.”
I kiss his head and assure him it’s fine as Ronnie continues down the aisle in time with the music. Jeffery walks naturally, ignoring the whispers and eye rolls of his big sister. They both carry baskets and are scattering white petals along the aisle. The wedding is small enough that none of the kids really needed a role, but Evelyn and Frank insisted.
As soon as they finish, Ronnie and Jeffery take the seats that h
ave been set aside for them on one side of the arch, and by that time, my girls are on their way down the aisle, too, both dressed in pale-pink dresses that match their cousin. Lara’s dark hair is still miraculously in the bun, a serious feat considering her hair is so thick and shiny that it’s a nightmare getting it to do much more than hang around her pretty face or wrangle it back into a ponytail.
I knew better than to try to tame Anne’s blond waves, as she’ll just shake them free. So instead, she’s wearing a circular headpiece threaded with ribbons and flowers, giving her a fairy-like quality. Her eyes find me, and I put a finger to my lips the moment I realize she’s about to call for me.
I’m a flower girl, she mouths, and I blow her a kiss as Syl giggles beside me. Bradley’s squirming, clearly wanting to call out to his sisters. But to my shock and amazement he not only stays quiet, he turns to me with a finger over his lips and whispers, “Shhh.”
I flash him a thumbs-up, then return my attention to the aisle where both my girls are scattering red rose petals to complement their cousins’ white ones. Lara is pulling them from her basket and releasing them slowly and deliberately while Anne grabs handfuls and drops them in clumps.
“Oh my God,” Syl whispers. “They are so precious. And they’re going to be perfect next week in your ceremony.”
“I know,” I say, but I don’t turn around, because now Damien has stepped into the light at the end of the path, Evelyn standing tall and proud beside him.
The music shifts to the bridal march, and my heart flutters.
Soon, I’ll be doing this. The walk down the aisle, anyway, though Damien and I have decided to walk together, and to music other than the bridal march. We’re already married, after all, and that simple fact gives me so much joy that I only want to add to it, not re-do it.
Damien meets my eyes, and I feel that tug in my chest. The sight of him, so proud and perfect. And Evelyn glowing with happiness. I turn away just long enough to look at our girls in their seats by the arch, and see that they are looking at him with pride as well—their daddy walking their Ebby down the aisle.
“Dada!” Bradley’s cry rings out, and laughter rises again from the small group of invited guests as Damien grins at his son and Evelyn blows Bradley a kiss.
Behind Damien, I see Wyatt Royce standing at the end of the aisle, taking the candid photos that Evelyn insisted she wanted as a record of the day.
It’s because my gaze lingered on Wyatt after Damien passed that I’m still turned in my seat, and that’s how I notice the dark-haired man with a trimmed beard rise from his seat in the last row. He’s dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest under a matching jacket. He hesitates, then lifts his phone as if taking a picture before slipping out past Wyatt to leave the ceremony altogether.
I frown, but there’s nothing I can do now except wonder who he was. I know all the guests, and though the guy seems somewhat familiar, I can’t place him. I’m certain, however, that he wasn’t invited.
Considering the style of his suit, he’s probably part of Alaine’s catering staff, but that means I need to talk to Alaine about reminding his people to not wander the house or the grounds.
I push it out of my mind for now, and the last remnants of worry flutter away as Damien leaves Evelyn’s side to come sit in the seat beside me, lifting Bradley into his lap as he does so.
He takes my hand, and I lean in with a sigh as Evelyn and Frank exchange the familiar vows to love, honor, and cherish. Right then, my heart couldn’t be fuller as I watch these two people who are so important to us. My father, who worked so hard to turn around a relationship that he’d once walked away from. And Evelyn, who has always been more family to both of us than our own blood.
Damien’s thumb casually strokes my hand as they exchange rings. And with timing that is nothing short of perfect, the sun disappears below the horizon as my father very tenderly kisses the bride.
The reception is spread out over the pool deck, and soon most of the guests head that direction, including Sylvia and Jackson who take all the kids with them, but not until after Damien and I have had a chance to hug the four oldest and tell them what a great job they did in the ceremony.
As the five cousins skip away, Bradley holding tight to Lara’s hand, Damien and I linger, watching Wyatt take a few shots in front of the lights and flowers.
“Not too formal, Wyatt,” Evelyn says. “Why the devil would I want a picture of us looking formal?” My dad laughs and slides his arm around her, and right then I don’t think I could be happier.
“It was beautiful,” I tell Evelyn, as she pulls me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you two.”
“I’m quite pleased with us myself,” Evelyn says. She reaches for Frank’s hand. “I think this time, we both got it right.”
“Yes,” he says, and the love in his eyes is so clear my vision turns misty. “Yes, I’m sure we did.”
Half an hour later, the reception is going strong. The kids are playing on the playscape that we installed just off the patio. Bradley is in the sandbox with Anne, and Lara and Jeffery are on the swings with Ronnie taking turns pushing them. They’re all still relatively tidy, but I don’t expect that to last for long. Already, Lara’s hair has slipped out of the bun and the hairpiece is now part of the sandbox project.
But they’re having a blast, and that’s all I care about right now.
For that matter, as I sit on the edge of one of the chaise lounges and glance around, I can’t help but notice that everyone seems to be having a great time, especially Evelyn and my dad. They’re laughing and mingling and holding hands, and my heart swells so much I actually feel breathless.
“Hey,” Damien says, coming to my side with a glass of bourbon for him and one for me.
“You look happy,” I say, taking the drink, then tilting my head back to receive his kiss.
“I am,” he says, then shakes his head as if forestalling my next question. “None of that matters right now. Tonight is about family,” he adds, as he sits beside me. I draw a breath, lost in the pleasure of being close to my husband and surrounded by our family. And not just the people who share our blood. We’ve built something together, and it’s moments like this that such a simple fact overwhelms me. Because in the years before Damien, all I wanted was to escape my mother, the only family I had back then.
True, I had Jamie and Ollie, but pretty much no one else. We three made up a trifecta of tight friendship that had supported and nurtured me. But this…
Well, this life and family we’ve built is more than I ever hoped for or expected, and I’m feeling so sentimental tonight that I’m certain I’ll be a blubbery mess at our own ceremony next week.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Anne comes running up to us, and Damien bends forward so that he can scoop her up. “It’s the other Frank’s song! Dance with me, Daddy. Please, please?”
The song is Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon, and it’s on the playlist that Evelyn and Frank picked out for the reception. “How could I say no?” He shoots me a grin. “Come on, Princess. Lead the way.”
I watch as they head to the dance floor where Lyle Tarpin, an Oscar-winning actor who Evelyn represents, is already swaying with his wife Laine in his arms. Their relationship had started off almost as crazy as ours after they’d found themselves pretending to be engaged after some provocative photos landed on social media. Like Damien and me, they’re now blissfully in love and very happily married.
We’ve known Lyle for years, and when Anne was young he used to play airplane with her, holding one arm and one leg and twirling her around and around. He’s one of her favorite people, and I’m not at all surprised when Damien and Lyle switch partners for the next song, and Lyle holds Anne’s hands as they sway to I Hope You Dance.
“She’s getting so big,” Jamie says, coming over to me with Bradley on her hip. “And I believe this one belongs to you.”
She passes him off to me, and I accept my sleepy hugs and kisses with pleasure.
“I don’t know, Jamie,” I tease. “You and BB looked pretty cozy. And Ryan has that awed look.” I grin at her. “Danger, Will Robinson.”
“Don’t even joke about it. He’s been cuddling Mandy for the last twenty minutes, and I swear Wyatt and Kelsey are going to have to hit him over the head with a club to get their daughter back.” Mandy is six months old and she has her parents—and all the other adults in her life—wrapped around her tiny little fingers.
“He’s ready, James,” I say softly, then watch as she sighs.
“I know. He really is. And I love him so much, you know? I mean, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Hell,” she adds sardonically, “there’s nothing I haven’t done for him.”
I force myself not to laugh. I know a bit about Jamie and Ryan’s sex life, and she’s not exaggerating. “Is that the problem? You think things will become too tame?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, then shrugs. “Hell, Nicholas, I don’t know. Maybe? Or maybe it’s my career, you know? I’m finally starting to land decent roles.”
Finally is right. Jamie struggled for years to get on the screen, ending up as an entertainment reporter before finally getting her break into film and television. Now, her career is hopping, so it makes sense that she’s not ready to start a family. Except I know her well—and I know that she’s scared. What I don’t know is why.
“Jamie…”
“Nope. No deep talks today,” she says. “If we can’t talk about that video, then we can’t talk about my neuroses.” I roll my eyes. Jamie and Ryan had been the first to arrive, and I’d pulled her aside to tell her about the threat and the video. Then, after getting that off my chest, I told her that the topic was verboten for the day.
Now, she lifts her glass, her expression firm. “I’m drinking and celebrating and there will be no deep talks or speculation about babies or scary assholes, right?”
“Right,” I agree, amused.
“And you should be mingling anyway.”
