“By the way,” she added, “probably better if you can trick Charlie into seating our parents at different tables. I’m not sure they’re going to get on.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll break that news gently.”
Shift laughed and unplugged her headphones. The music she was working on shimmered with stuttering rhythms and slow, arctic melodies shifting underneath. It was quiet and calm in the house. Win sank further into the couch and pretended that the intermittent flashes of cameras outside the windows were just lightning, a storm rolling through and past.
* * *
Win had a sneaking suspicion that Shift was more excited for the rehearsal dinner than she was the actual wedding. Shift’s favorite Chinese restaurant was out of the way enough to be inconvenient for everyone except Shift’s group of eco-friendly friends and musical weirdos, and the odd location and awkward side street entrance made it perfect for losing paparazzi.
There wasn’t a huge crowd: Shift’s and Charlie’s parents; Charlie’s cluster of male model colleagues who stood in a circle and looked faintly confused, as if wondering when someone would hand them a Bellini and tell them where to stand and pout; Shift’s touring band and a few uni friends; and her sister, the other bridesmaid, who was younger than them and had been giving Win nervous, admiring looks since she arrived a few hours earlier with Shift’s parents. Win exchanged hugs with them and updated them on Pritha’s health. The last time she’d seen Shift’s sister, Danielle was seven years old, obsessed with boa constrictors and sure that Win and Shift were deeply uncool. She was clearly reevaluating.
Charlie had taken to calling Shift’s parents Maw and Paw in the days leading up to their arrival (“Let’s take Maw and Paw to the observatory when they get here!” and “Do you think Maw and Paw would like my three-bean cassoulet?”) but once actually confronted with them, he was quite subdued, and said politely, “Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Scottsdale.”
“Oh, sweetie, call me June,” Shift’s mum said. Shift’s dad managed a faint smile and a nod.
Gum had flown in that afternoon, and Charlie had gone immediately to greet him at a bar. Win wouldn’t meet him until they got to the restaurant. She’d had a tight knot in her stomach about it all day. She felt strange about the idea of meeting Leo’s brother for the first time like this. At least Charlie had confirmed Gum was alone. Leo was only joining them tomorrow.
Win and Shift were the first people there, getting in the waiters’ way and tripping over tables. Shift was wearing a suit, her hair swept up into a drooping coif, her lipstick bright red, sporting a pair of wingtip loafers with tassels and a bolo tie. She looked like a disreputable cowboy forced into court, and she laughed with real pleasure when Win told her so.
“You just look beautiful,” she told Win.
Win shrugged and looked away. Shift wasn’t the type to particularly care about bridesmaid dresses, which had been a relief to Win’s team if not Win herself. She’d asked her stylist in LA to send her something simple, the kind of dress that indicated a background presence without seeming like she was hiding. They’d slipped her into midnight-blue Balmain, ankle length with glinting silver chains strapped loosely over her shoulders.
Georgia Chilton, the Vogue profiler, had stopped by as well. She was friendly, professional but open, and smart enough not to pay Win much more than the cursory attention a bridesmaid deserved, though her gaze was alert and interested. Shift spent most of the time laughing and dragging Win into the conversation all the same, speaking a little faster, eyes bright with nerves. She was unused to a journalist who didn’t want to ask her about her latest sampling techniques and what she thought about the return of dubstep.
“I don’t know why you need me, really,” Shift said. “The profile’s on Charlie, isn’t it?”
“Well, I’ve already had a couple of in-depth interviews with Charlie,” Georgia said. “I need to know something about you.”
“As if Charlie hasn’t already recited a few melodramatic odes,” Shift said. Win stayed behind Shift with a reassuring hand on her arm. She didn’t want to appear overbearing, and she didn’t trust how Georgia would portray her, no matter how nice she was in person.
At least the photographer wasn’t arriving until tomorrow, the wedding day. It meant there was no one to catch the way Win’s head jerked up when she heard Charlie’s cheerful laugh and Gum’s low, throaty chuckle, a sound she already knew, crackled and secondhand from Leo’s phone speaker.
They came in together, brushing snow off the shoulders of their heavy coats and stamping their feet. For a moment, Win felt almost winded with relief. Gum, as she had suspected from photos, didn’t look much like Leo at all. Now that she’d met Gabrysia, Win could see for herself that Leo took after his mother. They had the same bone structure, the same dark eyes fringed with lashes long enough to make them look slightly secretive. Gabrysia had masculine features; they sat better on Leo, though his looks weren’t quite as striking as his mother’s.
But Gum clearly took after their father. His forehead was broader than Leo’s, and he was shorter, carrying himself with an authoritative swagger, a build like a boxer’s with a pouched, American face. He’d struggled with alcohol for a few years, and the remnants of the fight had lingered on his brow, making him look older than he was.
Charlie had a faint flush in his cheeks, like he’d been drinking, and he seemed younger than usual standing next to Gum; it was hard to remember they’d been school friends. He looked around until he spotted Shift and Win and then made a beeline for his fiancée with Gum trailing behind him like an indulgent uncle. They cut an odd pair together, Gum’s slicked hair and heavy face against Charlie’s angelic golden curls and pink mouth.
“Shift,” Charlie said, and kissed her. Georgia Chilton, hovering behind them, made a note. “There you are!”
“Here I am,” she said, and touched his hair with a swift, affectionate curl of her fingers. “Hi, Geoff, nice to see you again.”
Gum gave Shift a fussy little handshake, half raising her hand to his mouth like he wanted to kiss it before he thought better, and said, “Feeling’s mutual.”
“And I don’t think you’ve met my maid of honor, have you?” Shift said, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Whitman Tagore, Geoffrey Milanowski.”
“Hi,” Win said. Gum seized her hand in a hearty shake.
“Hullo, hullo, at last,” Gum said, squinting at her. Win remembered Leo saying that Gum was farsighted, but refused to wear his glasses, and he didn’t trust contacts. “Feel like I have met you, all your movies and the fuss with my little brother—”
“It’s been a long time coming,” Win said politely. Gum pumped her hand a moment longer.
“Excellent movies,” Gum said, and turned to Charlie. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh, spectacular!” Charlie said, beaming. Shift was leaning in the curve of his arm, and Charlie looked as though there was nothing bad in the world.
“Thank you,” Win said. She felt dull and small, not sure what she wanted to say. Gum’s mention of Leo had thrown her, though it would have been odd if he hadn’t. She wasn’t used to thinking of Leo as a little brother.
“I liked the ladies’ heist one best,” Gum said, and started clicking his fingers. “What was it, what—”
“Beg, Borrow, or Bleed,” Win said. It had been one of her early films; she’d been a relative unknown in an ensemble cast, playing an awkward computer scientist, pretty beneath the square-framed glasses. Directly afterward she’d left on her Win Gone Wild tour with Leo to prove she could be nasty, and a lead.
“That’s the one,” Gum said, and gave his churring laugh again. “Good film. Well, Shift, you all ready to throw yourself away on my boy?”
“I’ve just about resigned myself,” Shift said. Win leaned back, effectively if not actually leaving the conversation.
She felt as though she’d walked through a ring of fire. She was almost proud of herself for the way she’d managed it u
ntil Gum, frowning, disagreed with something Charlie said and pushed two knuckles against his eyebrow as he thought. It was so exactly Leo’s gesture that it knocked the breath out of her. She had to turn away and pretend she’d heard someone calling her name, touching Shift’s arm to excuse herself and hoping that her hands weren’t obviously trembling.
She walked as quickly and authoritatively as she could until she got to the bathroom, where she stood with her hands resting over the sink, head bowed. She took several shuddering breaths. Then she walked out smiling.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rolling clouds came coursing across the sky, blanketing them with cold, clean light, but there was no snowfall before Shift and Charlie’s wedding. The morning stayed still, waiting for the clouds to open, and in the quiet before everyone else woke up, Win watched Shift stand in her garden in her pajamas and Charlie’s big coat, arms hugged around herself, face turned up to the sky. She looked small and sure, and when she turned back and saw Win through the window, she laughed and waved.
Charlie had spent the night at a friend’s apartment—he was, to Win’s utter lack of surprise, quite superstitious about wedding traditions. It left Win, Shift, Shift’s sister Danielle, and Shift’s mum getting ready together. Jada and Matthew, who had arrived a day earlier, flew about the room fixing everyone’s hair and makeup. Shift put on a grime mix. Glasses of champagne were passed around. It was easy to keep laughing, keep smiling, and not say much. Georgia Chilton, to Win’s relief, was spending the wedding morning with Charlie.
Every now and then Shift threw a worried look at Win, but she was distracted, mostly by arguing with her sister about whether flower crowns were no longer cool.
“You could have said this months ago,” Shift said.
“It’s coming back round into fashion again,” Jada said.
“Hollywood says so, so there,” Shift said, glaring at her younger sister. “You shut your mouth.”
“Fine,” Danielle sighed, and added, with studied carelessness, “Hey, Win, wanna take a selfie?”
Win paused. “Sure.” Shift caught her eye and mouthed, Thank you. Win leaned in for the camera.
There were dark shadows under Win’s eyes in the photo, but Matthew would take care of them before the wedding. He tilted her jaw up toward him.
“How you doing, sweetie?” he asked, voice low enough that it didn’t carry to the rest of the room. “Been a tough week.”
“I’m okay,” Win said. “I don’t think I’m going to be doing many public appearances for a while. Your calendar’s going to fill up with other people.”
“You know I’m always going to make sure you come first,” he said. Win smiled at him, worn out with how good everyone was. She missed Emil, who would have been in his element among all the bustle and fraught tempers. He had sent Shift a bouquet of flowers this morning, with his best wishes, and an email to Win with three likely candidates for his replacement.
“Thank you.” She didn’t feel like she could talk very much. Her throat was small, her mouth all dried up. She kept looking out the window and waiting for the snow. There was frost against the glass even this late in the morning, tapering, spidery lines of gleaming ice.
But it didn’t snow, not all through the morning of preparations and mini-arguments and Danielle and Shift chasing each other around the kitchen with their bouquets, and their mother shouting uselessly for them to slow down and look after their pretty dresses. It didn’t snow when the cars beeped outside and they went out to find Shift’s dad waiting with his eyebrows drawn together in front of a long line of vintage Skyliners—“Oh my god,” Shift said, “I’m just going to kill Charlie.”
It didn’t snow when they got to the venue and hid in a dressing room while guests arrived. Win stood at the huge windows, looking down the long sweep of lawn and tangle of trees stark and lovely against the horizon, snow on the ground from the preceding week. The clouds sank lower and there were strange, dipping moments of sunlight and shade, beams of light shifting through so the sky looked almost lilac. Voices sounded in the hall beyond as people began arriving. Shift said, “Oh, god, why couldn’t we have eloped?” and Win had to bite her lip so she didn’t end up agreeing.
Georgia Chilton and Vogue’s photographer, a friendly guy called Bill who was wearing a nice shirt out of respect and a trucker’s cap out of habit, arrived shortly after and took photos of Shift, Win, and Danielle fixing each other’s hair. They were businesslike, friendly but distant. Georgia’s focus was clearly on Charlie, which Win respected, and she’d already had most of her conversations with Shift earlier. She said, “Nervous?” in a cheerful, friendly way that meant the answer didn’t really matter. Win, despite herself, quite liked her.
Then Georgia said, “Okay, we’re going to head into the reception hall, set up a few cameras. Don’t want to miss anything!” and Win’s blood ran cold.
“I hope they get a couple of shots of Charlie freaking out,” Shift said. “I would love that.” She groaned. “God, I can hear my aunt. She’s already complaining.”
Win couldn’t pick Leo’s voice out among the others. She did hear Gum’s unmistakable guffaw. Shift looked around and said, “Oh, good, he and Charlie must be here,” and a bit of color came into her pale cheeks.
Win smiled at her. “Not so nervous?”
“Well, it’s just Charlie,” Shift said.
“And two hundred guests,” Danielle chimed in.
“You.” Shift’s mum pointed a finger at Danielle. “Go make sure all the ushers know what they’re doing.”
“Mum—”
“Go! There’s no bad luck about anyone seeing you.”
That left the three of them. Shift’s mum said, “Oh, Lisa, you look beautiful,” and for a moment Win didn’t know whom she was talking to. Shift looked equally surprised.
“Thanks, Mum,” Shift said. She did look beautiful. Her hair was falling ragged down her shoulders—she’d refused to allow Jada to trim some of her split ends, waving it away as too much bother—but the flower crown added something elegant, delicate fabric gardenias. Her dress was simple white lace, a low-cut neck that showed off her collarbone and the sparrow tattoos lining her clavicle. She looked fresh and happy in an assured, confident way. She looked like she had no doubts at all.
“You look amazing,” Win said.
“You do, too,” Shift said. Win was in a rose-gold silk gown that fell gently to her ankles, a square neck like Shift’s and three-quarter sleeves in a useless nod to the cold. Her hair was down.
“I’m just keeping up appearances for you,” Win said.
Shift turned and held out her arms. “You have to come here. I keep tripping over the damn train.”
Win walked into her arms and nestled her face against Shift’s warm shoulder. Outside the snow had, at last, begun to fall.
She lifted her head when Shift’s father sidled in and cleared his throat. “Bridesmaids, you’re up.” Danielle appeared behind him with a rustle of skirts and a firm grip on Charlie’s cousin’s arm.
“I suppose this is it,” Shift said.
As if summoned, the door swung open fully and Gum appeared.
“Shift!” he cried. “You’re the very picture of matrimony. You look a treat!”
“Thank you, Geoffrey,” Shift said.
“Chaz is peeing his pants,” Gum confided. “Well, ladies and gents. I think we’re ready to get this show on the road. Can’t leave old Charles waiting up there on his own too long! All set, sir?” he added to Shift’s dad.
“Yes,” Shift’s dad said, eyeing him with dislike.
Danielle and Charlie’s cousin moved forward to wait at the doorway. Gum held out his arm gallantly for Win to take, and she turned to Shift one last time.
“Good luck.”
“You, too,” Shift said. Win’s mouth tightened. She turned to Gum, took his arm, and moved with him into place. Through the conservatory, the organ started up.
Leo would be in the room. Win drew in a
breath, trying to prepare herself.
Then Gum leaned in, a close, unexpected presence, and hissed in her ear, “You’ve got some goddamn nerve, showing your face round here.”
Win blinked. It took a moment for the words to filter through. “What?”
“The whole family’s in an uproar,” Gum continued in a low, furious voice, all his good humor dropped away like a discarded pantomime mask. “Dad just about blew his gasket when he heard.”
“I’m sorry,” Win said, bewildered. Danielle and her groomsman had started to make their way down the aisle, Danielle’s cheeks pink with embarrassment and pleasure. “Is this the right time to talk about it?”
“What other time is there? I had to get you on your own, without your damn security detail.”
“My…” Win trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief, the first pinpricks of anger rising in her. “I actually don’t want to discuss it.”
She made a point of shutting her mouth as they moved forward into the doorway. Gum ignored it.
“But Leo’s not allowed to say anything.” He looked up and winked at Charlie as they began the slow march down the aisle. “So it’s up to old Uncle Gerry to tell you what for. Poor boy can’t even defend himself! God knows I’ve never been one to cause a scene—”
“That’s not been my experience,” Win said coolly.
Gum’s scowl darkened. “Oh yes, know all about us, don’t you! I bet you’ve had your people working on me for years. Hollywood types digging their noses in—it’s been an awful strain on Leo.”
“Really,” Win said, through gritted teeth, as they moved forward down the aisle and a crowd of interested faces craned their necks toward her. “Can we talk about this some other time?”
“I hope to God there’s never another time,” Gum hissed. “I’m not sure Leo could bear it. I certainly couldn’t.”
“Is…” Win’s throat felt like it was closing up. She whispered, “Is Leo—”
“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of a wedding,” Gum said. “You LA people have no sense of manners.”
The View Was Exhausting Page 29
