by Nora Roberts
escort at the reception. I think you’d hit it off. He’s a junior at Princeton.”
“Thanks, but I have a boyfriend. He’ll be coming to the wedding. I cleared it with Mama.”
“A boyfriend.” Forgetting her primping for the moment, Bella dropped down on the bed. “When, where, how? What’s his name? What does he look like? Tell me everything.”
The seeds of resentment blew away, and they were sisters again, huddling together over the serious priority of boys.
“His name’s Josh. He’s so sweet and he’s a major hottie. He wants to be a writer, and I met him at college. We’ve been seeing each other a couple of months now.”
“Months? And you didn’t tell me?”
“You’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“Still.” Bella pouted a moment. “Is he from around here?”
“No, he grew up in Ohio. But he’s living here now. He’s got a job in a bookstore for the summer. I really like him, Bella. I’ve slept with him. Five times.”
“Jesus!” Bella’s eyes went saucer-wide as she bounced her butt on the bed. “Reena, this is huge. Is he good at it?” She popped up, closed the door. “Vince is amazing in bed. He can go for hours.”
“I think he’s good at it.” Hours? Reena wondered. Was that really possible? “He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”
“Make sure you always use protection. I stopped.”
“Stopped what?”
“Birth control,” she whispered. “Vince said he wants to have a family right away, so we tossed away my pills. It’s so close to the wedding, it won’t matter if I get pregnant. We threw them away last weekend, so I might already be pregnant.”
“God, Bella.” It gave Reena a jolt, a hard one, to think of her sister going from bride to wife to mother in one big rush. “Don’t you want some time to get used to being married first?”
“I don’t need time.” When she smiled, everything about her went dreamy. Lips, eyes, voice. “I know just how it’s all going to be. And it’s going to be perfect. I have to finish getting ready. Vince will be here any minute, and he hates when I’m late.”
“Have a good time.”
“We always do.” Bella sat down at the vanity again when Reena went to the door. “Vince is taking me to a fabulous restaurant tonight. He says I need to relax and take my mind off the details of the wedding.”
“I’m sure he’s right.” She went out, closing the door just as her brother came up the stairs.
He glanced at the door, back at Reena and grinned. “So how many times did she say ‘Vince thinks’?”
“I lost count. He’s pretty crazy about her.”
“Good thing, otherwise by now he’d have been driven crazy by her. I know one thing, I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
She walked to him. He’d edged over her in height, so she bounced up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You’ll miss her when she isn’t in the next room.”
“I guess I will.”
“You got plans tonight?”
“On your first night home? What kind of brother am I?”
“My favorite kind.”
She waited until Bella was out to her fancy dinner and the rest of the family was around the dining room table sharing steak Florentine in honor of Reena’s return from college.
“I have some news,” she began. “John told me today, and I asked him to let me tell everyone else. Pastorelli’s out. He was released a week ago.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Not at the table, Xander,” Bianca said automatically. “Do they know where he is, where he went?”
“He served his time, Mama.” She’d had time to reconcile to that, and to sound calm about it. “John doesn’t think we need to worry, and I agree. He doesn’t have any ties to the neighborhood, no reason to come back here. What happened was long ago.”
“And yesterday,” Gib said. “Seems like yesterday. But I think we have to accept this. What else can we do? He was punished for what he did. It’s done, and he’s out of our lives.”
“Yes, but it wouldn’t hurt to be a little watchful, at least for a while.” Bianca drew a long breath. “And it’s probably best not to say anything to Bella until after the wedding. She’ll just have hysterics.”
“She can have hysterics over a chipped nail,” Xander put in.
“My point exactly. So we know, and we’ll be a little more careful. But we’ll believe as John does that there’s nothing to worry about. So . . .” Bianca lifted her hands. “Eat, before the food gets cold.”
6
Bo wasn’t a hundred percent regarding the plans for the day, but he was usually willing to go along. His pal Brad was now officially one half of the Brad and Cammie show. And since that show was in its first act, everybody was happy. To spread the joy, the new couple arranged for a double date, and that was fine. The all-day and into the evening term of the date was a little worrying.
A big commitment, to Bo’s way of thinking.
What if he and this friend of Cammie’s took an instant dislike to each other? It happened. She was supposed to be pretty, but that was Cammie’s opinion. And you just couldn’t trust the opinion of a girlfriend.
Even if she looked like Claudia Schiffer, she might talk all the time, or giggle. He really hated gigglers. Or she might be one of those humorless types. He’d rather take the giggling over the super-serious, I’ve-got-to-save-the-world-from-itself-and-so-do-you sort.
On top of that he was still hung up on a girl whose face he’d seen for about ten seconds, and whose name he didn’t know.
Stupid, but what could you do?
This was, he knew, one of Brad’s methods of getting him back to the real world. A pretty girl—at least that was the billing—a day out with a convivial group at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. Do the aquarium, hang out, catch some music, eat some seafood. Have a few laughs. He ordered himself to get into the spirit of it as he followed Cammie’s directions.
She and Brad took the backseat of his car, mostly, in his opinion, so they could make out.
He pulled into the lot, waited while his passengers completed their latest lip-lock.
“We’ll all go in.” Cammie unwrapped herself from Brad, grabbed her purse. “This is going to be fun! It’s a totally awesome day.”
She had him there, Bo thought. Blue sky, puffy clouds, steaming sunshine. Better to be out and about than sitting home brooding about some fantasy girl or even fooling around in his foreman’s workshop.
What he was aiming for was a workshop of his own. Once he had enough money to rent a house—or, more fantasy, actually buy one—he was going to have a shop of his own. A nice little shed he’d outfit with worktables and power tools. Maybe get his own side business going.
He walked into the apartment building, which looked exactly like every other off-campus apartment building to him. And was just the sort of place he wanted to say good-bye to. What he needed to do was talk Brad into parting with some of his money, going in with him to buy a place for rehab.
“She’s right here on the first floor.” Cammie walked to a door, knocked. “You’re really going to like Mandy, Bo. She’s a lot of fun.”
Cammie’s big smile reminded Bo why he hated being fixed up. Now if he didn’t like her friend, he’d have to pretend he did. Otherwise, Cammie would poke at Brad until Brad poked at him.
But some of his worry lifted when the little redhead with the big blue eyes and curves nicely packed into jeans and a snug gray T-shirt opened the door.
Packed nicely enough he was going to reserve judgment on the eyebrow ring. Maybe it was sexy.
“Hey, Mandy. You know Brad.”
“Sure. Hi, Brad.”
There was just the slightest hint of a lisp—a sexy one.
“And this is Bo. Bowen Goodnight.”
“Hi, Bo. Just gotta get my bag, and I’m ready to roll. Place is wrecked. Don’t come in.” She laughed as she said it, and shooed them back. “My roommate left yesterd
ay for a wild weekend in OC, and tore the place up looking for a pair of sandals. Which I found after she’d gone. I’m not cleaning it up. That’s her deal.”
She talked nonstop, but in a funny, bouncy way, while she grabbed a shoulder bag and a black O’s fielder’s cap.
Ah, baseball, Bo thought. There was hope.
She scooted out, shut the door behind her, then offered Bo a quick, easy smile. “Got a camera in here.” She patted the bulging shoulder bag. “I’m a pain in the ass with it. Fair warning.”
“Mandy’s an awesome photographer,” Cammie put in. “She’s interning at the Baltimore Sun.”
“Horrible hours, no pay. I love it. Hey, look at you.”
Before Bo could comment, she’d turned completely around to study a guy coming down the stairs. He was wearing a suit and tie, and looked a little flustered.
“Dude,” she said with a chuckle. “Looking hot.”
“Going to a wedding.” He lifted a hand to the knot of his striped tie, tugged. “Is this thing on right?”
“Cammie, Brad, Bo, this is Josh. Upstairs neighbor, fellow student and amateur tie knotter. Let me fix it. Who’s getting married?”
“Girlfriend’s sister. I’ll be meeting her whole family. I feel a little sick.”
“Oooh, the gauntlet.” She straightened his tie, gave his lapel a little pat. “There, you’re perfect. And don’t worry, hon, people are either crying or getting drunk at weddings.”
“They’re mostly Italian.”
“Then they’ll be doing both. Italian weddings are big buckets of fun. Just lift your glass and say—what is it?—salute!”
“Salute. Got it. Nice to meet you guys. See you later.”
“He’s a sweetie,” Mandy said when he went out. “Been hung up on this girl in his lit class most of the term. Looks like it’s finally working out. So.” She adjusted her cap. “Let’s go see some big-ass fish.”
Bella had ordered perfect, and in Reena’s opinion, she’d gotten her wish. The weather was spectacular, the balmy blue and gold of early summer, with the flowers both bright and delicate, and the humidity mercifully low.
She looked like a princess, everyone said so, in her frothy white gown, her hair gleaming gold under her sparkling veil. She carried a spectacular creation of pink roses accented with miniature white lilies.
The church was bedecked with her choice of flowers in white baskets. She’d rejected the more traditional organ in favor of a harp, flutes, cello and violin. Reena had to admit the sound was lovely.
And classy.
No more lace curtains and Kleenex bouquets, Reena thought as her eyes stung and her throat went hot. Isabella Hale swept down the aisle of St. Leo’s on their father’s arm looking like royalty. Her train a sparkling white river behind her, her face glowing, diamonds firing at her ears.
She’d gotten her wish all around, Reena thought, as Vince—elegant and handsome in his formal morning coat—looked dazzled by her.
His eyes, deep and dark, lit on her face and never moved from it. Her father’s were damp as he carefully lifted Bella’s veil, gently kissed her cheek and answered the priest’s question about who gives this woman to this man with a tenderly spoken, “Her mother and I do.”
For once Bella didn’t weep, but stayed dry-eyed and luminous through the Mass and ceremony. Her eyes like stars and her voice clear as a bell.
Because she knows this is exactly what she wants, Reena thought. What she’s always wanted. Just as she knows this is her spotlight, and all eyes are on her.
It no longer mattered that the bridesmaid dress was a little less than flattering. Here was another kind of fire, she realized. It was strong and bright and hot. It was her sister’s joy flaming through the air.
So Reena wept when the vows were exchanged, and the rings given, knowing that this was the end of a part of their lives. And the beginning of the next part of Bella’s.
The reception was held at Vince’s parents’ country club where his father was some sort of officer or board member. Here, too, there were flowers in abundance, and food and wine and music.
Each table was draped with the same shade of pink as Bella’s signature roses, sprinkled with white rose petals and centered with yet more flowers and glossy pillars of pure white candles.
Reena was required to sit at the long head table along with the bridal party. She was grateful her mother had the foresight to seat Josh at the same table as Gina, who could be counted on to keep him entertained. She was nearly as grateful that Fran—as maid of honor—and Vince’s brother, who served as best man, were the ones who would make the traditional toasts.
She ate rare prime rib, talked and laughed with the other members of the wedding party, worried about Josh. And when she took time to gaze around the big ballroom, wondered what kind of world her sister was now a part of.
The two families were mingling, as people do at such events. But even if she didn’t know them, she’d have been able to separate them into groups. The working class, the upper class. City neighborhood, suburban wealth.
The bride wasn’t the only one wearing diamonds, or draped in a dress that cost more than a week’s take at Sirico’s. But she was the only one of her blood who’d managed it.
Probably, Reena admitted, the only one of her blood who could pull it off as if she’d been born wearing Prada.
As if reading her thoughts, Xander leaned close to her ear. “We’re now the poor relations.”
She snickered, then picked up her champagne. “Screw it. Salute.”
It was easier when she could escape the formal duties and find Josh. “You doing okay? I should be clear now, at least for a while.”
“Fine. It was some wedding.”
“Some wedding,” she agreed. “I didn’t know the pictures would take so long. I feel like I deserted you. And I wanted to warn you that—”
“Catarina!” Her aunt Carmela swept up to envelop her in clouds of White Shoulders. “How beautiful you look! Like a bride yourself. But so thin! We’ll fatten you up now you’re home. And who is this handsome young man?”
“Aunt Carmela, this is Josh Bolton. Josh, my aunt, Carmela Sirico.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sirico.”
“Polite, too. It’s a wedding, today I’m Carmela. My niece.” Carmela wrapped a strong arm around Reena’s shoulders. “She looks so pretty, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, ma’am, she—”
“Francesca’s the beauty, and Isabella, she has the style, the passion. Our Catarina, she’s the smart one. Aren’t you, cara?”
“That’s right. I got the brains.”
“But today, you look beautiful! Maybe your young man will get ideas when you catch the bouquet.” She winked broadly. “Do I know your family?” she asked Josh.
“You don’t,” Reena said quickly. “I know Josh from school. I need to introduce him around.”
“Yes, yes. You save a dance for me,” she told Josh as Reena dragged him away.
“That’s what I was going to warn you about,” Reena began. “You’re going to get a lot of that and some third degree. Who are your family, what do they do, what are you doing, where do you go to church. Everyone in my family thinks it’s their business to know. Don’t take it personally.”
“It’s okay. Gina gave me the heads-up. It’s a little scary, but okay. And you do look beautiful. I’ve never been to a big Catholic wedding. It was something.”
“And really long,” she said with a laugh. “Okay, I’m going to have to show you off to the uncles, and the rest of the aunts. Stay strong.”
And it was okay, she saw as the party went on. Josh might have been peppered with questions, but there was so much talking going on he only had to answer about half of them.
The music kept things lively with something for everyone, from Dean Martin to Madonna. She’d relaxed into the moment when she took her dance with the groom.
“I’ve never seen my sister look happier. The ceremony was beautiful, V
ince. Everything’s beautiful.”
