The Wedding

by Danielle Steel

  “I'd like to see your new book sometime,” Simon said seriously. “Actually, I'll buy it. It just came out, didn't it?”

  “It's been out for a while. I just finished a brief publicity tour. I don't see how you have time to read, with everything you do,” he said, impressed by their conversation.

  “I manage.” Simon looked at his wife then, and Allegra saw an odd little look pass between them. It wasn't animosity, or anger certainly, it was just the faintest of chill breezes between them. She'd never seen anything like that before, and she wondered if something had bothered either of them early on, like maybe the kitchen. He hated the inconvenience, and her mother loved remodeling, so that occasionally provided some domestic friction.

  Allegra didn't say anything, but when she went out to the kitchen with her mother afterward, she glanced at her carefully, and there didn't seem to be anything seriously amiss. But she had looked tired lately. She was worried about the show, and she was always much too busy.

  “Is Daddy okay?” Allegra asked calmly, not wanting to pry. All couples had arguments sometimes, and perhaps they'd had one earlier that evening.

  “Of course, dear, why?”

  “I don't know … he just seemed a little cool tonight. Maybe it was my imagination.”

  “Probably,” Blaire said, unconcerned. “He's furious about the garden. He likes it the way it is, and he just can't believe that what I'm doing will improve it.” It was an old battle with them, and it made Allegra smile. She had thought it was something like that. It was never anything more serious with them. They had a terrific marriage. “I like your friend, by the way. He's so intelligent and pleasant and easygoing. Nice-looking too.” She smiled, pouring herself a glass of water. “I'm awfully glad,” she said, and Allegra laughed, she knew what her mother meant. She was relieved to see the last of Brandon.

  “I thought you would be,” Allegra said to her. It was a little bit sad that everyone was so pleased that she had broken up with him. It seemed odd to her that everyone had seen all that she hadn't. “This has been sort of a whirlwind with Jeff for the past few weeks. We met in New York at the home of an agent I was meeting with, and we've been together almost constantly ever since.” She looked at her mother shyly then, and it touched Blaire to see it, “He's so good to me…. I've never known anyone like him … except Daddy.”

  “Oh, my,” Blaire said, staring at her. “This is serious. Women only compare their fathers to the men they marry.”

  “Hardly, Mom,” Allegra said, blushing in embarrassment. “We've known each other for three weeks.”

  “You'd be surprised how fast things happen when the right man comes along.” Hearing her say it reminded her of Carmen and Alan, and she was tempted to tell her mother about them, but she knew she shouldn't.

  They went back to the living room to join the men, and by then Sam had gone to call her friends. Jeff and Allegra stayed till eleven o'clock, and they chatted and laughed, and had a very pleasant time with her parents.

  And as soon as they left, Blaire grinned broadly at her husband.

  “Now, come on, Blaire … never mind … don't get all worked up. She hardly knows him.” He was chuckling, and could see in his wife's eyes all her excitement about Allegra's new romance.

  “That's what she said, but you're both missing the point. The guy is absolutely wild about her.”

  “I'm sure he is, but give him a chance before you put a noose around his neck.” He had meant it jokingly, but the moment he had said it, he knew he shouldn't. “I didn't mean it like that,” he said, trying to correct it, but it was too late. She had turned away with a small shrug. She had gotten the full gist of his meaning. He never used to make comments like that. Nor had she. But lately, she noticed that they both did. He insisted it didn't mean anything, but she knew better. There was no serious unraveling yet, but there were suddenly the slightest of frayed edges around the borders of their marriage. She thought she knew why, but she wasn't sure of it. And when she looked up at him, something distant and cold struck at her heart. It was nothing you could really define, but it was there, like a poltergeist, drifting through rooms, and wafting icy fingers along her spine as she watched him.

  “Are you coming upstairs?” she asked quietly, the kitchen plans rolled up under her arm.

  “Eventually,” he said, and then as he saw her face, he corrected himself. “I'll be up in a minute.”

  She nodded and went upstairs, feeling sad about them again. There had been no major rift, no terrible tear, but lately there had been this awkward cooling between them. She wondered sometimes if it was just a stage they were passing through, a little bump in the road, or a signal that there was something really wrong. But she wasn't sure yet.

  “So how do you like my parents?” Allegra asked undiplomatically as they drove home. They were staying at her place tonight, because it was closer.

  “I think they're great,” he said with unabashed admiration. They were unassuming; they were warm, and charming, and involved, and a delight to be with. He told her all about his conversation on the patio with Simon. “He says he wants to read my book, but I think he's just being polite. It's nice of him to offer.”

  “He loves doing stuff like that. He's always encouraging my friends with their films, and their plays, and their new businesses. He thinks it's exciting, and it keeps him young.” At sixty, he looked more than ten years younger. And then as she thought of her mother, she frowned slightly. “Actually, it's my mom I'm worried about.”

  “Why?” Jeff looked surprised. She was beautiful and youthful, talented and successful, hardly someone one worried about, and she was in excellent health. He couldn't imagine why Allegra would worry about her. “She looks fine.”

  “I know, but I'm not sure she is. I think losing the Golden Globe award hit her hard this year. She's had a lot of aggravation with the show. And I don't know what it is,” she tried to put her finger on her concern, but couldn't, “it's just a feeling I have. She seems sad all the time, I mean underneath all the smiles and the good sportsmanship. Something's bothering her.”

  “Have you asked her?” It seemed an easy solution to him, but Allegra shook her head.

  “I honestly don't think she'd tell me. I asked if there was some kind of a problem with Dad, because he looked kind of serious tonight, but she says he's mad about the garden.”

  “That's probably all it is,” he reassured her. “They must work awfully hard, and that has to take a toll. They're amazing people.” He was the most important producer in Hollywood, and she had one of the most successful TV shows. It was quite a standard to maintain, and not surprising that none of their children had chosen to compete with them. “I liked Sam, by the way.” She was spectacular-looking, and so young in her views that it was actually refreshing.

  “So do I, sometimes.” Allegra grinned. “She's kind of a brat though, lately. It's not good for her to be alone with them all the time. They really spoil her. It was better for her when Scott and I were home, but that's been a while. Daddy is the original pushover when it comes to Sam, and she knows it. Mom holds a harder line, but Sam sails right on by and does what she wants. I never would have dared to do that.”

  “I think it's always like that with the youngest kids. They get a real break after the older ones pay their dues. But she doesn't look too indulged to me. She was actually very polite.”

  “That's just ‘cause she thinks you're cute.” Allegra grinned again.

  “And if she didn't?”

  “She'd ignore you.”

  “Then I'm nattered that she didn't.”

  They had reached Allegra's house by then, and they went straight to bed. They were both tired, but she loved lying there next to him, holding each other. Their caresses rarely stayed chaste, and in a short time they were overcome by passion. They were happy times, and in the morning, Allegra loved waking up next to him. Sometimes he was already up, making her a pot of fresh coffee. It seemed the perfect life to both of them. And
on Saturday morning, Alan called and invited them to dinner.

  “What a life,” Jeff commented as she served him hot breakfast rolls and sweet butter, standing naked in her kitchen wearing a white lace apron. “Now, there's a picture for the tabloids,” he said, pretending to snap one, while she took a sexy pose, and he pulled her down on his lap, and that had immediate results, which eventually drew them back to the bedroom.

  It was noon before they got up again, and Allegra tried to decide what to make for lunch, while Jeff commented that all they did anymore was eat and make love.

  “Are you complaining?” she asked with interest, biting into an apple.

  “God, no. I love it.”

  “So do I.” And then she remembered Alan's invitation. “What do you want to do about dinner tonight? Do you want to go?” She didn't want to push him. She was sure he had his own friends, but he had actually hit it off beautifully with Alan and Carmen, which delighted Allegra.

  “Actually, I'd like to go,” he said, sharing the apple with her. It was a big, juicy one, and after he took a bite of it and swallowed, he kissed her. Their lips tasted like apple, and their kisses almost took them back to the bedroom.

  “We're never going to get anything done if we keep this up,” she said, and then laughed at her pun, while he kissed her neck and held her. “Never mind, I'll call Alan.”

  They agreed to go to Alan's house in Malibu, and they said that maybe after that they'd go bowling. When they arrived at seven o'clock, Carmen was cooking pasta this time, and Alan was making the sauce, pretending to sing Italian opera. They all laughed, and Jeff put on some music.

  It was a beautiful, balmy night, and they almost decided to eat outside, but in the end they didn't. Instead, they sat around the kitchen table, and all complained about having eaten too much. Alan's sauce on the fettuccine had been delicious.

  “I'm going to have to start starving again pretty soon,” he said with a groan. “We start rehearsals the end of March here, and then we start shooting in mid-April. We're going to Switzerland, to play in the Alps, like little mountain goats.” It was another wild adventure movie, with a meaty part for him. And they were paying him an absolute fortune.

  “Isn't that going to be dangerous?” Carmen asked, looking worried.

  “Not unless I slip,” he said, teasing her, but she didn't look amused, and then Allegra heard her say that she wanted to go with him. It was going to be difficult if she insisted on following him to the set; women who did usually became a major nuisance. And Alan was too independent to put up with it, and most of his locations were far too rugged for Carmen.

  “You're going to be shooting in June anyway,” Allegra said, trying to distract her. “You won't have time to go with him.”

  “I could stay for six weeks till we start rehearsals.”

  “I'd love that,” Alan said, encouraging her, and Allegra was almost sure he'd be sorry for it. But the conversation moved on to other things, and after dessert, banana splits this time, perfect to kill everyone's diets, Alan suggested that they go into town and go bowling. He loved hanging out in bars, playing Ping-Pong or shooting pool, just being one of the folks. And bowling was one of his favorite pastimes. Eventually he convinced them all to go, and they were all laughing and talking as they drove into Santa Monica in his Lamborghini. It was actually an armored car, built as a tank, especially for an important Arab. There had been only a dozen or so made, and he had found a bright, shiny red one in San Francisco. The inside was all burl wood and glove leather. It drove like a Ferrari, and could supposedly ride over a sand dune at a hundred and eighty miles an hour. It was one of Alan's favorite toys, and he loved it. It was a lot more conspicuous than his old Chevy truck, but it was a lot more comfortable too, and had an elaborate stereo system. And every time someone looked at it, they honked in admiration.

  “Where did you get this thing?” Jeff asked. He had never seen another car like it.

  “Up north. It was built for a Prince in Kuwait, and he never picked it up. It's completely bulletproof, and the sides are totally armored.” It was a wonderful machine and Alan really enjoyed it, more for its speed and flash than for its protection.

  They parked it outside the Hangtown Bowl, and went inside to rent shoes and reserve a lane. And they were surprised to see that the whole bowling alley was unbelievably crowded. They were told there would be a wait, but they decided to have a beer and be good sports about it, and twenty minutes later they had their lane, and they got down to it in earnest.

  Alan was pretty good, and Carmen was lousy but she always had a good time, Allegra could hold her own, and Jeff was a good match for Alan. They were well suited to play the game, and none of them took it quite as seriously as Alan. He loved to win, and always nagged Carmen to pay attention.

  “I am, baby, I am,” she said, and as she said it, Allegra noticed that people were watching. They hadn't been aware of it, but people had slowly gathered around, and it was obvious that they had not only recognized Alan, but Carmen.

  “Hi,” Carmen said to one of them, completely unaware of what she looked like. She had on skintight white jeans, and a tight white T-shirt that probably showed off too much of her figure. The ugly turquoise and brown bowling shoes completed it incongruously, but in spite of the shoes, she looked like a beauty queen, and several of the men looked as though they'd had too much beer and would have loved to grab her.

  Alan was quietly aware of it, and maneuvered her between himself and Jeff, but they were watching him too, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hoodlum with slicked-back hair start talking to Allegra.

  She was completely cool, and made very little of it. He asked about the car outside, and she said they had rented it for the evening. There were specialty dealerships in L.A. where you could rent hot rods or Rolls-Royces or antique Bentleys. You could rent almost anything, and it was perfectly conceivable that the Lamborghini outside had been rented.

  “She thinks she's pretty slick, don't she?” another guy asked Allegra as he eyed Carmen, who was trying to ignore him and concentrate on her game. “We know who she is. What does she think, she's just slumming for tonight? That's pretty crappy.” Allegra didn't say much and moved away, but she didn't want to piss them off further. Both of them were drunk, and they were beginning to catch the attention of the others in the bowling alley. Then all of a sudden a woman asked for an autograph, and then a few more, and suddenly there were dozens of people pressing Carmen against a table. And before Alan could turn around, some guy had grabbed him and thrown a punch, but he was too drunk to connect, and by using a neat karate move he had learned from the stuntmen on his last set, Alan sidestepped him completely.

  But Allegra knew all too well what the rest of this “movie” looked like. She'd been around it for too long not to know when they were in trouble. And with a single stride away from Jeff, she walked to a pay phone and dialed 911. No one even noticed her as she told the officer at the other end who she was, where they were, who her companions were, and what had happened.

  “It's about to turn into a bar fight,” she said calmly, “and Miss Connors could get hurt. There's a mob here of about a hundred guys about to grab her.”

  “We'll be right there,” he said, giving rapid orders to someone on a radio. “Stay on the line, Miss Steinberg. How's Mr. Carr?”

  “Holding his own for the moment.” She kept an eye on them from where she stood. No one else had thrown a punch after the first one, but there was a seething mob closing in on them, of people who wanted to be with them, touch them, strip them, press them, be them. And as she kept an eye on what was happening, Jeff saw what she was doing. He tried moving closer to her, but she could see that he was afraid to leave Carmen, there were too many men pressing her, touching her, and someone was trying to rip a sleeve off her T-shirt.

  But as Allegra watched, three policemen strode purposefully through the bar and into the bowling alley. They could see what was going on, and they were wielding billy cl
ubs and not willing to take any nonsense. One went straight to Carmen, and another spoke to Alan Carr, and within minutes they were keeping the crowd at bay, but people were still ripping at Carmen's hair, trying to grab her clothes, pulling her toward them. It almost became a tug-of-war between the thugs and the policemen. It took two of them to free her from what felt like human quicksand, and as they did, a woman screamed and threw herself into Alan's arms, begging him to kiss her. She was young and drunk and overweight, and this was her life's dream, being this close to Alan Carr, just as tearing Carmen's clothes off seemed to be every man's dream in the bar. It took all three of the policemen to get Carmen, Alan, and Jeff free and clear, and they moved together to leave the bar. Allegra tried to join them, but just as she reached them, one of the billy clubs shoved Allegra back, and the crowd closed again between them. Jeff was beckoning frantically, but she couldn't get through, and he was trying to fight his way back to her with no success, and no cooperation whatsoever from the throng of fans who had become crazed with lust and excitement.

  “Allegra!” Jeff was shouting at her. She could see him, but she couldn't hear him. “She's with us!” he shouted at one of the policemen for help, and together they forced their way back, and put their arms around her, pushing her toward the door, again just behind Carmen and Alan. And outside, there was yet another patrolman. Alan's hands were shaking as he opened the car, and the four cops surrounded them as they got in, and then they locked the doors, and the officers waved at them to go as quickly as they could. It was all over, and they'd barely had time to thank them.

  In the rearview mirror as they pulled away, Alan could see it becoming an angry mob, cheated of the objects of their affection.

  “God, does that happen to you guys all the time?” Jeff said, trying to straighten his shirt and jacket. They all looked as though they'd been shipwrecked. All of their clothes had been torn, their hair was tangled, Alan's hat had been ripped off and stolen along with his dark glasses, and Jeff had actually lost one of his loafers. “How do you stand it?”