by K. L. Hiers
“Boring!” Rowena declared with a loud groan. “If you guys don’t have any more dirt on what my brother is up to, I’m happy to discuss place card fonts with Charlie.”
“Ugh,” complained Jimmy, hoping dinner would be ready soon.
“Not excited about your, ahem, wedding?” David asked casually with a sly wink.
“You know we’re already married,” Jimmy mumbled under his breath.
“I know Cold wanted to protect you from all of this,” David said earnestly. “He told me what he was doing, and he still wanted my blessing.”
“Wait, what did he say exactly?”
“That he knew there was a very good chance he might not be able to take care of you if the worst should happen,” David soothed. “He told me that he loves you more than anything. You’ve made his life better, and he was going to do everything in his power to protect you.”
“He really said that? To you?” Jimmy scoffed.
“Why do you think I said yes?” David smiled fondly.
“If only he had said more stuff like that when he tried to propose,” Jimmy fussed with a deep sigh. “I still haven’t officially agreed to the wedding.”
“I’ll support you, slugger. If he screwed up, well, it’s on him to make it right.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Jerry arrived to summon them all to the dinner table, and Jimmy took his seat at his usual place by the head of the table.
Cold wasn’t here yet, no doubt still plotting things with Tamerlane.
Everyone took their seats, and Jimmy resisted the urge to hiss when Charlie sat down next to him.
Jerry came out to serve the first course, a steaming savory soup, murmuring something in French to Charlie when he set his bowl down. Charlie whispered back, and they shared a smile that made Jimmy’s eye twitch.
What was with this guy?
Jimmy felt a strong hand on his shoulder, startling him, and he looked up at Cold’s smirking visage. “Hey!” He glanced around. “Tamerlane isn’t joining us?”
“He had other plans,” Cold explained as he sat down.
“Gonna go get kicked outta another fuckin’ hotel with Lorre?” Maury asked casually, grinning over his soup. “Heard they had themselves one hell of a homecoming party.”
“What can I say?” Cold smiled. “My Gentlemen are very... passionate.”
“They’re not gonna be like your groomsmen or anything, right?” Rowena quirked her brows. “Are you guys even having a wedding party? I mean, I would obviously make a killer maid of honor.”
“That’s up to Jimmy,” Cold said.
“I don’t care,” Jimmy mumbled into his spoon.
“I’ll be your best man,” David offered, smiling warmly. “I would love to do it, slugger.”
“Jules could be Roddy’s best man,” Rowena suggested. “He’s his oldest friend, after all. And Maury could be a groomsman for Jimmy, and I can be a bridesmaid for Roddy!”
“Maury’s gonna what now?” Maury blinked.
“Be a groomsman for Jimmy!” Rowena insisted stubbornly.
“Great. Perfect.” Jimmy kept eating.
“Come on, Jimmy,” Rowena pouted. “This is your big freakin’ day! You should be excited!”
Jimmy said nothing.
“How about the three of you get together tomorrow?” Cold suggested, lightly dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “Decisions need to be made. I’ve already confirmed the guest list—”
Jimmy dropped his spoon and glared at Cold. “Without me?”
“Unless you would also like to review all four hundred and twenty-seven names?” Cold retorted dryly.
“Yes!” Jimmy said defiantly. “As a matter of fact, I would!”
“Ah, an excellent task for you and Charlie to conquer tomorrow.”
“Fine!” He turned to Charlie. “Tomorrow, yeah, let’s go ahead and get all of this over with.”
“Oooo! We can do brunch!” Rowena exclaimed. “We can make mimosas! This is gonna be so much fun!”
Jimmy returned his attention to his soup, resisting the urge to audibly grumble to himself when he saw how smug Cold was over his apparent victory. There were many words he could think of to describe hanging out with Charlie.
Fun was definitely not one of them.
Chapter Ten
The rest of dinner was uneventful. Jimmy refused to give Cold any further satisfaction about the wedding planning by avoiding the topic entirely. He chatted with his father about his work down at the prison, asked Dario what new sort of musical numbers he was planning for the club, and gossiped with Maury over anything of interest that had been pawned lately.
The evening concluded with lots of hugs and promises to visit again soon, especially from Rowena, who was beyond thrilled for tomorrow’s brunch. Jimmy forced a smile and remained congenial all throughout, even when he said goodbye to Charlie.
Guests gone and wineglass in hand, Jimmy began a very purposeful march upstairs. The hour wasn’t particularly late, but he was tired and his mood was still sour. He wasn’t surprised when Cold followed him, but he did his best to ignore him.
“You’re angry with me,” Cold noted as they got dressed for bed.
“You truly are a mastermind,” Jimmy grumbled, opting to skip brushing his teeth in lieu of finishing his wine. “How perceptive of you.”
“Is this about the guest list?”
“About all of this!” Jimmy groaned, setting the empty glass on the bedside table. “What’s the point of me planning anything for our wedding when you’re still doing so much behind my back?”
“The guest list is important but very tedious,” Cold said firmly as he slid into bed with a frown. “I had to make several important decisions about who was invited. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Our wedding is supposed to be important, too,” Jimmy pointed out. “And yet, I’m doing that on my own.”
“It’s for you,” Cold insisted. “It’s my gift to you—”
“Your half-ass attempt at apologizing, you mean,” Jimmy corrected, getting in bed and promptly tugging the majority of the covers to his side. “Look, I’ll plan out this stupid wedding so all your important friends can come or whatever, but I’m not standing at the altar with you.”
“Jimmy—” Cold began.
“No!” Jimmy argued defiantly. “I’m not going to do it. I never said yes, and you haven’t asked me. You haven’t gotten down on one knee and looked into my eyes and said that you loved me and that you want to marry me.”
Cold’s rising anger was reduced to a simmer. “That’s what you want?” he asked quietly.
Jimmy wanted to choke him. “Yes!” He threw his hands up in frustration. “Fuck! That’s all I’ve ever wanted. A real and heartfelt proposal. No more deals, okay?”
Cold seemed to be thinking it over.
“Do that, and I will go to whatever stupid fake wedding you want.” Jimmy waited for Cold to say something, but he was still lost in thought. Annoyed by his continued silence, Jimmy grumbled to himself and rolled over to go to sleep.
When Jimmy woke up the next morning, Cold was gone. Considering the odd hours his gangster lover kept, it wasn’t unusual. The giant bouquet of red roses at his bedside, however, was a surprise.
Bleary-eyed, he reached out to examine the card.
Out on business for the day, but tonight you’re mine. I have a very important question to ask you.
Five o’clock sharp.
—RL
Jimmy’s heart fluttered as he smiled to himself. Cold was actually going to propose properly. He was going to do it tonight! Jimmy didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew how much Cold loved to plan things and this had the promise of being spectacular.
Maybe tonight’s proposal would be as perfect as he’d always wanted it to be, and Jimmy would finally say yes.
His excitement for this evening was almost enough to forget this morning’s dreaded brunch festivities. He got dressed and headed downstairs,
finding that Rowena was already here and had taken over the parlor.
“Good morning, Jimmy!” she greeted cheerfully, hugging him close and kissing his cheek.
“Mmm, good morning!” Jimmy was concerned when he saw Rowena pouring them both very large slushy drinks from a colorful pitcher, prompting him to ask, “Everything okay, Rowena?”
“Oh!” Rowena laughed. “Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone lately. I only drink socially now. I’m just really excited.”
“That’s good.” Jimmy cringed and took a sip.
“I know Roddy’s really screwed up and you’re mad at him, but we can try to make the best of this,” Rowena urged. “You can have the freakin’ wedding of your dreams!”
“My dream wedding would be on the beach with no shoes.” Jimmy flopped down in one of the overstuffed chairs.
“Oh, yeah, no, Roddy would never.” Rowena chuckled quietly to herself, but her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh! That gives me an idea. I’m a fuckin’ genius. If we can’t go to the beach, why don’t we bring the beach to us?”
“Huh?” Jimmy laughed. “Exactly how many mimosas have you had?”
“A beach wedding without the beach!” Charlie’s delighted voice called out. “You are a genius, Miss Legrand! Mm, but the magic is all in the color scheme.”
“Hello, Charlie!” Rowena waved, gesturing for him to join them. “Please, have a seat.”
Jimmy kept drinking.
“Morning, all!” Charlie said cheerfully, sliding a large bag off his shoulder. “How are you doing on this beautiful day?”
“We’re just peachy.” Rowena smiled sweetly. “Think we finally found a theme Jimmy is gonna like. Now, what were you saying about the colors?”
“Right! The colors are definitely key,” Charlie went on as he sat down. “Blues and tans with white, yes. Still beach, also masculine, but simple and clean.”
“Sounds beautiful!” Rowena looked to Jimmy. “What do you think, Jimmy?”
“I guess that could be nice,” Jimmy said reluctantly.
“That’s the most positive thing I’ve heard you say about the wedding yet.” Charlie grinned. “Let’s keep it going.”
“Where are you from, Charlie?” Jimmy asked suddenly. He realized that his tone almost sounded accusatory, adding quickly, “I just mean, here we are planning my big special day, and I hardly know you.”
“Oh!” Charlie blinked in surprise. “Well, I was actually born right here in Strassen Springs, but Mum moved us to Epsey, England, when I was a lad. Stayed there until I was grown and well, I wanted to come back to the States and see where I was born!”
“What about your father?”
“Died when I was little,” Charlie replied with a sad smile. “Never knew him or my mum’s parents very well. Some nasty family history, I’m afraid.”
“Sounds juicy,” Rowena interjected, filling a glass and pushing it toward Charlie with a sly grin. “Spill.”
“Isn’t it a tad early?”
“Never too early. Please. I insist.”
“Well, my mum was a bit of an accident,” Charlie said, politely accepting the mimosa. “Grams was excited, Gramps was not. He didn’t want her to keep the baby, you see.”
“What a dick!” Rowena snorted.
“Well,” Charlie sighed, “turns out he was already married with babies of his own on the way. To avoid a scandal, he paid Grams off, and she had my mum in secret. Never met her father, not that I think she’d want to, but there it is.”
“I understand completely,” Rowena said, raising her glass in solidarity. “Me and Roddy’s father was a royal piece of trash, too.”
Charlie’s smile was strained.
Maybe he knew that Cold had killed his own father.
“So! What about wedding planning?” Jimmy asked, reaching for the pitcher to refill his glass. “How did that happen?”
“Helped my best friend plan her wedding and discovered I have quite the talent for it,” Charlie replied easily. He seemed more relaxed at the change in conversation. “I’ve always been good with coordinating things, and I have impeccable style, obviously. It was meant to be.”
“Obviously,” Rowena teased, imitating Charlie’s accent and thoughtfully sipping her mimosa. Her smile was friendly, but her eyes were intently focused. “And how did you meet my brother?”
Jimmy realized that Rowena was probably still just as suspicious of Charlie as he was, and he was grateful for the unspoken support.
“He found me actually,” Charlie said, seeming to sense the increased scrutiny. His smile was shy; laughing, he replied, “Said he wanted nothing but the best for Mr. Poe here. So! That’s what we’re going to do. You want a beach-themed wedding, I will make it happen.”
“Right,” Jimmy said shortly as he offered a strained smile. “Do you have the guest list?”
“Of course,” Charlie said, reaching into his bag and digging around. He pulled out a neatly labeled folder and handed it to Jimmy for his inspection. “Around eighty percent of the guests have already RSVP’d. The invitations were on heavy linen paper, and I wrote all of them by hand in calligraphy—”
“Sounds beautiful,” Jimmy said briskly, seizing the guest list and scanning it quickly. He paused, clarifying, “Wait, how did you already send out invitations?”
“Mr. Legrand had already selected the venue, the date, and time when he hired me,” Charlie replied anxiously. “He didn’t... tell you?”
“I knew he picked the day, but... wait, where are we getting married?”
“The Graham-Wynne House.” Charlie had his phone out, hastily bringing up pictures of a large and very fancy Victorian mansion. “I’m sure you’ve driven by it before! It’s in the historic district of downtown, absolutely lovely. Has its own chapel, ballroom, and conservatory. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“That’s gonna hold all these people?”
“Barely,” Charlie snorted. “Fortunately, the conservatory opens up into the Strassen Springs Botanical Gardens. We can hold the ceremony there and the reception in the house proper.”
Jimmy began to read the guest list again. He wasn’t surprised that he recognized many of the names as politicians and other elected officials here with the city. The mayor and the chief of police were even invited. He also found the names of all of the Gentlemen, Dario, Maury, and his father.
What did surprise him were the names he had never expected to see here: Cristian and Luigi Luchesi. There were at least ten other members of the Luchesi family that were on this list, perhaps more if Jimmy decided to be presumptuous about Italian surnames.
Why the hell was Cold inviting members of the family that was trying to kill them?
“An easy way to bring in a beach theme is with the food,” Charlie was saying. “We can have fresh shrimp and crab served on ice in big buffets, whatever you’d like. What sort of fish do you like, Jimmy?”
“Uh...” Jimmy glanced up. “Cooked ones?”
“Right,” Charlie mused. “Perhaps we need to have a proper tasting? There’s a fabulous restaurant, Ingrid’s—have you ever heard of it?”
“Yes. I’ve been with Rod many times.”
It was an exclusive five-star restaurant that had been featured on several national television programs. The waiting list was months long and favored by celebrities passing through the city.
Cold had his own table.
“I bet we could get them to cater,” Charlie said, tapping away excitedly on his phone. “I’m good friends with the chef, Quinn Thornton. I know he’s also a friend of Mr. Legrand’s. If he can squeeze us in for lunch, we could have him design an entire menu for the reception.”
“Wow! Yes!” Jimmy actually smiled. “That would be awesome. I love that place.”
“Mmm, schmoozing it up at a fancy restaurant? I like it!” Rowena happily agreed. “First, bottoms up, boys! These mimosas are not going to finish themselves.”
As they drank and continued planning the wedding, Jimmy was beginni
ng to enjoy himself. Even though it wasn’t quite getting married at the beach, it was going to be beach inspired. It was better than nothing.
He felt a pang in his chest, and he suddenly hated that he felt like he was settling. A big fancy ceremony wasn’t what he wanted at all, but he wanted to be able to compromise with Cold. A large event made sense because of Cold’s status, though Jimmy still would have much preferred a private gathering.
Well, he decided firmly, they were definitely going to go somewhere very warm and tropical for their honeymoon. That was non-negotiable.
By the end of the pitcher of mimosas, Jimmy was surprised to find he was actually having a good time. He was buzzed and smiling, finding Charlie’s company much more palatable with alcohol in his system. More than that, having Rowena’s infectious energy close by was always hard to resist.
If he thought of this as planning a big party and not a wedding, it was even fun.
Charlie was thrilled to announce that Chef Thornton would take them this afternoon for a private tasting, and they all piled into the limo with Jerry at the wheel.
“So, Chef Thornton just happened to have some availability for us?” Jimmy asked curiously. “Or was this some of your wedding planner magic?”
“Some of your magic, actually,” Charlie replied. “As soon as he found out it was for you and Mr. Legrand, he was practically begging me to come.”
“Being a mafia husband has its perks,” Rowena giggled sweetly.
“It certainly does,” Jimmy chuckled.
They arrived at the restaurant and were greeted personally by Chef Thornton. He escorted them to Cold’s private table where trays of food were already waiting for them: a colorful buffet of bite-sized treats and snacks to help plan the wedding menu.
The food was very welcome after so many mimosas. They all eagerly dug in, chatting and discussing what they liked best as they picked at the vast selection. Jimmy was having a great time choosing what he wanted, and he enjoyed knowing that he had full control of this.
It wasn’t as satisfying as being married barefoot in the sand, but he could have all the crab cakes and shrimp cocktails that he wanted.
They were just finishing up the dessert selections when Jimmy felt his phone ring. He checked to see who was calling and saw it was Dario. He opted to let it go to voicemail since they were nearly done, and he decided he would call Dario back later.
