by Raine Miller
“Do you really like the ring?” he asked softly. “I know you like antiques and that was so unusual I hoped you might like it instead of something modern.” He held my face to his and rubbed over my jaw with his thumb. “But if you want a different one, just say. I know it’s not a conventional engagement ring and I want you happy in all things.”
I clutched my left hand with my right one protectively. “I love my ring and you’re never getting it back,” I teased. “You know, in certain light it almost looks black sometimes. A black stone.” I smiled wide at him.
He smiled back at me as realization dawned. “Good?”
“Very good, Mr. Blackstone. You have remarkable taste with your gifts, which are far too extravagant but that I love all the same. You spoil me rotten.”
He rotated his hips down below, reminding me our bodies were still connected. “My prerogative, and I’ve hardly gotten started, baby. Just you wait.” He winked.
“I haven’t given you any gifts,” I said, plucking at the sheets bunched under my knees.
“Look at me.” His voice was all seriousness, the teasing gone.
I lifted my eyes to meet his blazing blue ones.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You’ve given me this.” He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “And this.” He put his hand over my heart. “And this.” He put both our hands over my belly and left them there. “There are no greater gifts, Brynne.”
15
♥ The shopping expedition proved my theory that this would be an exercise in lunacy.
“What do you mean you’re not wearing these shoes?” Benny held up what had to be at least a six-inch Louboutin stiletto encrusted with crystals. “They’re hot. You can pull it off, luv. Will make your legs miles long.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “And the point of that is?”
“To look sexy?”
I shook my head at Ben. “No, darling. The point of the day is to get married, not to look like I work for an escort service.” I pointed to my belly. “Pregnant, remember?”
“Yeah,” Gaby said sarcastically at my left. “I still can’t believe you kept it a secret from me for nearly two weeks!”
“Sorry, it wasn’t intentional, and have I mentioned that it was a total shock to my system? In more ways than one.” I returned the sarcasm right back with good measure. “I’m barely starting to feel human.” I frowned. “Emphasis on the barely.”
Gaby shook her head. “I bet,” she said, looking over a rack of dresses in hopes of finding something that could pass for a maid of honor’s. “Seven weeks, Bree. We have seven weeks to get this wedding together. It’s insane.”
“I know. I wish we could have a little more time to plan this, but Ethan wants it done as soon as possible. We get a whole two weeks’ leeway after the Olympics finish up.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “He thinks being married in a big public event and announcing we are expecting will deter whoever is watching me from taking any action. I can only hope he’s right.” My stomach did a little flip, but I pushed the fear away. I really didn’t have time to worry about who might be after me anymore. I was having a baby—another person to protect now. It surprised me how easy it’d been to fall into that role too. Biology was hardwired into us, I realized. Protecting my unborn baby was just a natural instinct that I had to follow. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that Ethan had me well guarded, and that I didn’t take risks. Not anymore. No, that freaky message on my old cell had spooked me thoroughly, along with the idea that two of my attackers on the video were most certainly dead. I looked over to where Len was literally standing guard, the bridal shop not deterring him even the slightest little bit. He was my shadow these days, with Ethan and Neil so busy with the Olympics. I smiled at him and saw the softening of his expression for just an instant before he went back to guard duty, scanning the room and keeping the crazies away. Thank God.
Gaby must have sensed my worry, because she put her arm around me. “You’ve been through so much. How in the heck are you not stark raving mad by now, girl?” She barely paused to take a breath. “Color? You want us in a shade of purple or lavender?”
“That is a very good question. One I’ve got no answer for.” I shrugged. “I was referring to the stark raving mad inquiry,” I told her with a sigh, “and I would love you in purple if you find something that strikes your fancy. I want you and Elaina to feel good in whatever you choose, Gab. And your dresses don’t have to be the same at all, or even the exact same shade or material. I want you guys to wear what you love. You’ll be beautiful in anything—”
“Okay, enough useless prattle, ladies. We have to find a wedding dress, and time is slipping by,” Ben announced imperiously with a theatrical look down at his watch. “Can you tell me what your requirements are in a gown, darling? If I know what you’re looking for, I can do this.” He snapped his fingers on both hands with a flourish.
Gaby rolled her eyes at Ben’s announcement. “That’s a little bold, Ben. You are a guy. What makes you think you can locate Bree’s wedding dress out of the million shops in London?”
Ben looked at Gaby and clucked at her. “I’m gay. ’Nuff said, woman. When have I ever steered you wrong?” Ben gave Gaby a thorough long look up and down. It was no secret he picked out her clothes all the time, and that she always took his suggestions to heart. Ben was good with fashion and design. God, I loved them both so much.
“I like your earlier suggestion, Benny. Something vintage-inspired, simple—lace is pretty, and I want sleeves. They can be short, but no sleeveless gown for me.” I gestured with my hands over my stomach. “Maybe a higher waistline would be best, in case I start to explode. A little splash of purple, maybe?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “You don’t look up the duff at all, darling.” He cocked his head curiously. “Will you have a bump by August the twenty-fourth?”
“I don’t know and don’t start, please. All the guests know I’m pregnant so it’s not like we’re trying to hide the fact. Trust me, I’ve heard all about it from my mother already. Like she thinks pretending we aren’t having a baby will be more respectable somehow. Ugh, I loathe the drama she creates. Why can’t she just be happy for me? She’s going to have a grandchild, for Christ’s sake!”
Gaby placed a hand on my shoulder. “Bump or no bump, you’ll be beautiful, and your mom will just have to get over it. We’ll wow her with such a gorgeous wedding and you such a lovely bride, she won’t have a choice but to love the whole thing.”
They were sweet for telling me so, but I didn’t have high hopes about turning my mom around. She didn’t want to hear about Ethan and our relationship. She had actually had the gall to tell me I was throwing my life away on Ethan and our baby. She asked what the last four years was for if all I was going to do was get pregnant again. That hurt. She really thought so little of me. The first time was not my fault, and this time . . . well, I didn’t intend to get pregnant. I know Ethan and I acted irresponsibly, but I wouldn’t regret this outcome. I couldn’t regret it. I touched my belly and rubbed over the area back and forth. Conceiving our baby had been done in love no matter what my mom said, or what I thought of myself. That much I knew was true. I loved Ethan and he loved me. There was no other choice I could make, whether my mom understood the concept or not; there was no other choice in this world for me.
“Thanks, you guys. Really . . . I don’t know how I’d pull this together without you two in such a short time,” I said with a sigh. “Even Elaina and Hannah are hard at work. I hope we can actually pull this off.”
“As if we couldn’t,” Ben scoffed. “You’d have to hold me at gunpoint to keep me away from helping you with this posh, A-list celebrity, country-manor wedding that Her Majesty has been invited to!”
“Yeah, well, let’s pray she doesn’t come. Thank God for Elaina turning me on to that little wedding planner—Victoria something.
I’ve been assured she will take care of anything having to do with queens and princes. I wouldn’t know the first thing about the protocol involved with having royalty at one’s wedding.” I looked at Ben and Gaby and threw my hands up in the air and swallowed hard as the realization hit me. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Nope. No more sick, my darling girl,” Ben said determinedly, hanging his long arm over my shoulders. “We’re going to sit down for a nice lunch and get fortified first, then it’s back to work finding the perfect dress for your posh country celebrity wedding. Which is happening in seven short weeks.” Ben looked upward and crossed himself. “We can do this.”
♥ I couldn’t resist texting Ethan over lunch. He seemed to enjoy our banter and usually replied if he wasn’t in a meeting, and sometimes even when he was. Naughty texts too. I grinned as I typed: I might hav to go naked 2 marry u. No dress luck yet. Havin lunch now ? ♥ U
I didn’t have long to wait before my phone vibrated.
No baby. U have it wrong. OK 2 B Naked for honeymoon ONLY! Dress essential 4 wedding.
xx
I laughed out loud and gained the unwanted attention of my friends. I tried to cover my mistake by delving into my salad. Didn’t have a chance of working, though.
“Sexting again?” Ben asked with a smirk.
“Sorry. It happens spontaneously.” I tilted my head and shrugged. “Blame the hormones?” It was worth a shot to use the hormones at least once in my defense.
“Gotcha, darling,” Ben said with a grin, his nosey radar on full alert. I swear he could charm a nun out of her panties if he wanted to. Some scary shit, the way he figured things out.
“They just have to look at each other and the people in the room could spontaneously combust by merely watching them.” Gaby’s voice was laced with sarcasm again as she took a big swig of her wine.
I pouted that I couldn’t join her in a glass, deciding it was okay to be insanely jealous of her right now. “Don’t be a bitch, Gab, you’re already pushing it by teasing me with wine. I can’t help it if Ethan gets me to spontaneously combust.”
Gaby laughed and refilled her glass of Chardonnay. “It’s no surprise Ethan got you pregnant. I imagine it was hard for the two of you to take in enough food and drink to keep yourselves going in the early days. All you did was have at it like rabbits.”
I gave her my best stone face. It lasted all of ten seconds before I started giggling. “It really, really was.”
We were goofing around, being idiots when my phone went off. Mom? At this hour? She never called me at her mornings.
“Shit! It’s my mom calling. Do you think she could sense me talking smack about her?” I decided to let it go to voice mail.
“The theme music from Psycho is the ringtone for your mother?” Gaby asked, her French fry stopped in midair.
I shrugged. “Ethan put it on there for me.” Uncomfortable silence. “He’s always playing around with apps and gadgets.” The silence grew steadily louder. “I mean, if the shoe fits . . .” I valiantly tried to latch on to something light and amusing.
Benny saved me when he started laughing and it became contagious. Hell, if I had to put up with this sucky animosity from my mother, I might as well try to find the little humor there was to be had. Ben had met her and lived to talk about it. My mom tolerated him, but she loved Gabrielle, so I’m sure Gaby thought I was being a tad harsh. I wasn’t. Ben could attest to the fact.
A minute later, my phone signaled a new voice mail, which was no surprise. My mom left voice mails all the time. She knew I screened her calls, and it just pissed her off more than she already was with me. I suddenly felt tired. It was exhausting keeping up this battle between us. I just wished for peace. It would kill me if I had such a tortured relationship with my daughter, or even my son down the road.
Sipping my lemonade, I ruminated for a bit, content to listen to Gaby and Ben chatter about different styles of veils and the pros and cons of white vs. cream for the knocked-up bride. Until the guilt started to creep in.
What did that say about how I was handling the situation? What if someday my daughter didn’t want to talk to me? Couldn’t stand to be around me? Thought I was a hypocritical bitch?
I’d be crushed.
I picked up my phone and hit voice mail.
“Brynne, I need to speak with you. It’s—it’s . . . an emergency. I’ll try calling Ethan and see if I can reach him.”
Cold fear washed over me instantly. If my mom was humbling herself to call Ethan, then it was something very bad indeed. No! Don’t let it be Daddy. Don’t let it be him. I wouldn’t even go to that place in my head. I froze on the line. Her voice was not normal. She sounded like she was crying. My mother never cried.
My hand shook as I pressed her number on speed dial. I noticed that a text notification had just come through from Ethan, but I ignored it. And then Ben’s phone lit up like a Christmas tree.
“What’s wrong, Bree?” Gaby reached out to touch my arm.
“I don’t know. My mom . . . said it’s an emergency . . . she was crying—”
The walls started closing in fast, my heart beating so hard I could feel my body shaking. Ben answered his call. His eyes flashed to mine, and he spoke: “She’s right here. Calling her mum now.”
I knew Ben was talking to Ethan, and I knew it was bad news. My head felt foggy as the call connected and I heard my mother’s voice on the other end. Everything was moving so fast I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I wanted to stop time. Stop it. Please stop this . . . I don’t want to know whatever she has to tell me.
“Brynne? Sweetie, are you with anyone?” My mom never called me sweetie and she never sounded like she did right now.
“Mom! What’s wrong? I’m with Ben and Gaby. We’re shopping for my wedding dress . . .” I could hear my voice starting to break. “Why did you call Ethan?” The silence from my mother was like the blade of a knife sliding into my heart. I knew she wasn’t silent because of my wedding dress comment. I wanted to believe it was the reason, but I knew better.
“Brynne . . . it’s your father.”
“What about Daddy? Is he . . . okay?” I could barely get the questions out. I looked back over at Benny and saw a look of sheer pain settle over his face. Then he started speaking softly into his own phone. He wouldn’t look at me, just kept his eyes down. I knew what he was doing. Ben was talking to Ethan and telling him which restaurant we were in so he could come for me.
Noooooooooo! That meant something very bad had happened.
“Brynne, sweetheart, your dad—he drowned in his swimming pool—the maintenance service found him—”
My ears heard the words but my brain rebelled. I couldn’t accept it. I wouldn’t. “No!” I cut her off.
“Brynne . . . it’s true. I wish it wasn’t . . . but it’s true.”
“But he can’t—Mom. He can’t be . . . no! No, don’t say that to me! Mom . . . Mom?”
“Sweetheart, he’d been in the water long time. It was probably a heart attack.”
“N-n-no . . . .” I whimpered. “It can’t be true. Daddy’s coming to London to visit me. He’s coming for my wedding . . . he’s giving me away. He said so. He told me he would be here . . .”
“Brynne . . . he’s gone, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” She was crying. My mother was sobbing into the phone to me and I was struck with the idea that I’d never seen or heard her cry before now.
I dropped my phone and it landed in my soup bowl with a big splash that sprayed across the front of me. I just stared and left it lying at the bottom of my chicken tortilla soup. Ethan would have to get me a new one. That phone was dust now. I’d never touch it again.
I ended up on my feet somehow, but I didn’t have anywhere to go. There was nowhere good to go to—I was trapped.
So I started to float like I had that other time. Only
I realized what was happening to me this time around. I welcomed the sensation. Lightness feels good when your heart is so heavy it wants to drag you down into the pits of hell. Yeah, being out of my body felt much better.
I floated higher until I could look down at myself. I saw Ben bracing me on his lap. He sat on the floor of the restaurant holding me. Gaby was beside him talking into a phone at someone. The waiter rushed over to assist.
But it was all so stupid.
Why were we all on the floor of a posh London restaurant when we should have been eating our lunches? We had to get out of there. I had a dress to find and a wedding to plan. My dad was coming to give me away at the ceremony in just seven weeks. The Queen of England had received an invitation, for Christ’s sake. We didn’t have time to fuck around like this!
Eventually I figured it out. The lightness that felt so nice went away and the weight of pain and grief returned to take its place.
I didn’t want to come back down to Earth. I wanted to stay right where I was.
That’s not true. I wanted to keep floating upward until I dissolved. That sounded really nice to me. Dissolving . . .
I felt nothing but enraged hatred for the ceiling. That goddamn motherfucking ceiling was keeping me from floating away.
Let me go! Let me float away . . .
16
♠ I sat up and looked over at Brynne. She slept. In a comfortable guest bed, in her father’s modern house, in a very nice suburb of San Francisco, my girl slept. She was crushed inside her heart, but for now she rested. She was unburdened from the grief for the moment.
I couldn’t let her out of my sight for more than a few hours, so leaving London and going to the States for her father’s funeral without me was out of the question. What if they tried to take her on American soil? No, I couldn’t risk the possibility. This was a day-by-day, hour-by-hour operation. Keeping Brynne safe was my greatest priority now, Olympics be damned. Neil was back in London stepping in for me, and between him and Frances, they’d keep the business machine running. I wasn’t very troubled at all about my job. No, my worries were much, much bigger and vastly more terrifying.
