Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9)

by Heather Wardell

  Perfect. I didn't feel perfect. I hadn't thought of how I'd feel the day before my wedding, but this mess of churning emotions didn't seem appropriate.

  I spent the rest of my shower listing off the good things about Owen, trying to push away the ickiness inside me. He was decisive. He'd decided he wanted to marry me and he'd made it happen. He had a great career. He was smart enough to know he could have a gambling problem if he did it all the time and disciplined enough to make sure that didn't happen. He did wicked things with a glass of champagne. Once. But still, even if our lovemaking wasn't usually as wild as that he was still fine in bed.

  Once I'd dressed and done my hair and makeup, I headed out the door to grab a bagel before the meeting with Derek, still trying to add items to the list in my head. I lost focus on that, though, when I entered the coffee area, because my whole being filled with a desire to look at Nicholas's favorite table to see whether he was there. I got my bagel, and my paper cup of cappuccino, while struggling not to look, then as I left I turned my head oh-so-casually and peeked.

  The table was empty.

  I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed at first, but I quickly convinced myself that relief was the more appropriate choice. Seeing Nicholas was nothing but trouble.

  As I walked to the meeting, though, little flashes of our time together on the cruise popped into my head. When he told me he'd loved me when we were together. How he'd replayed the Hatchet Monster crushing a man's skull because he'd known I wanted to see it again because I loved being scared. The feel of my hand in his as he helped me up the hill on that excursion. His fingertips grazing my lips. The way he'd stood up to the shushing woman and--

  I pushed the memories away. Thinking about Nicholas wasn't any better than seeing him. I needed to stop it. I needed to think of moments with Owen instead.

  I tried. But when I pulled open the door to Derek's office all I'd come up with was how easily Owen had walked away from me day after day to hang out in the casino, and that didn't make me feel better.

  Neither did realizing I'd arrived in a madhouse.

  Wendy sat looking shocked, her eyes flicking back and forth between my mom and Linda as if she were watching a tennis game. Derek was saying something but I couldn't hear him over the mingled sounds of my mother ordering Linda to calm down and Linda flinging little hot pink things one at a time against Derek's filing cabinet so they made a noise like raindrops on a metal roof.

  Nobody noticed my arrival.

  For some reason, this ticked me off. I set my cup and bagel on Derek's desk and said, "What is going on?"

  Wendy and Derek turned to me, looking relieved. My mother said, "Linda's being ridiculous, that's what's--"

  Linda, her no-longer-braided hair swirling around her face, threw one of the pink things so it landed at my feet. "What is that, Mel? You tell me."

  I didn't want to, but her stare was so forceful I couldn't help myself and I bent and picked it up. "It looks like an almond," I said, then realized what was going on just before she snapped, "It's a damn pink almond. They're not supposed to be pink!"

  I looked to Derek and he gave me a grim smile. "Unfortunately the wrong ones were delivered. I'm sorry, Melissa. I have a runner out checking the island for blue ones but we've never taken on wedding-related stock here so I'm not sure that we'll be able to--"

  "It's your job to be sure, isn't it?" Linda stood up and glared at him. "What's the point of having you if you don't fix stuff like this? Now the wedding's ruined." She flung several of the offending almonds in his direction and they scattered across his desk with a scuffling clatter.

  He flinched back, and a pure fury swept me. "They're almonds. Stupid nuts! And if the wedding's ruined it's because you're throwing a fit not because they're pink. Plus, it's my wedding and I don't care so it doesn't matter!"

  Four sets of eyes stared at me.

  "I don't care," I said again, suddenly dangerously close to tears, and bolted.

  *****

  I'd only made it a few doors down the hall before I heard, "Melissa, wait!"

  Derek caught up to me, and I looked past him and saw my mom and Linda in the doorway, looking horrified and impressed respectively. I drew my eyes away from them as he said, "Hey, are you okay?"

  My throat tightened again and I shrugged.

  Concern wrinkled his forehead. "I'm guessing this is about more than just almonds?"

  A laugh that was nearly a sob burst from my constricted throat. "I honestly could not possibly care less about the almonds."

  His smile was gentle. "I got that impression. So, what is it about?"

  I glanced past him again but everyone was back in his office with the door closed. Wendy's work, most likely. She was so good at calming savage beasts.

  With any luck she'd be up to the task of calming me tomorrow.

  "Melissa?"

  Should I tell him? Could I tell him?

  No. There was no point. Everything would be fine once I was off the ship and married to Owen. I shook my head. "I think it's like you said before, I'm just nervous. That has to be it. Like you said." I managed to force a smile. "But I truly don't care about the almonds."

  He chuckled but sobered quickly. "Okay, but..." He looked back at his office door then returned his attention to me. "I'm on your side, you know. This is your wedding. If there's anything you want done differently, we can blame it on me. I can take it."

  My smile came a little easier this time. "That's sweet. But no, the wedding is fine. It'll all be fine once I'm married, like you said before. We'll be fine when we get home."

  "Good stuff. Ready to go back?"

  I grimaced but nodded.

  We were only a few steps from his office when he stopped and said, "One more thing."

  The nervousness in his voice surprised me, but when he said, "I told you people are always different on cruise ships, but you know that's not true, right?" I understood it. What I didn't understand was what he meant.

  "They aren't?"

  He shook his head. "They relax more, maybe, and they might gamble where they usually don't." We shared a smile then he went on. "But the basic personality doesn't change. I wouldn't suddenly become an introvert or something like that just because I'm on the ship." He looked deep into my eyes. "I wouldn't want you thinking that people never show their true colors when they're at sea."

  My lips moved, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't find words. I'd been relying on the whole 'Owen will be himself again once we're home' thing for days. What if he was being himself right now? What if 'himself' was distant and secretive and uninterested in my point of view?

  That couldn't be, could it? No. The gambling had to be our only problem.

  Derek squeezed my shoulder. "Melissa, do whatever it takes to make sure you have a perfect wedding day. Okay? That's all I want for you."

  "I'll try," I said softly.

  He nodded slowly. "And please, if you need anything from me, let me know. Anything at all. No matter what."

  I knew he was offering his help if I called off the wedding, but I couldn't do it. I didn't even want to do it.

  Did I?

  The thought of it, of looking Owen in the eye and telling him I wouldn't be marrying him because he'd spent too much time in the casino, was overwhelming. No way. I couldn't do it.

  I made myself smile at Derek. "Thank you. I do need one thing."

  He leaned closer. "What's that?"

  "Calm Linda down about the almonds."

  *****

  To my amazement, Derek succeeded at that task, although part of the credit had to go to whatever Wendy had said in our absence since Linda and my mom both looked chastened when I returned. Derek added to that by saying immediately, "We all need to remember this is Melissa's wedding. It's what she wants that matters."

  I half-expected an angry response from Linda, but she just nodded. I'd thought she looked impressed after I walked out and she proved it by saying, "Good on you, Mel. I'm so glad
to see you standing up for yourself. Don't let anyone push you around, not even me. Owen needs to get put in his place sometimes and I like knowing you can do it."

  I managed to smile and not sigh, although the idea of spending my life trying to assert myself against a husband who did everything his own way while my mother-in-law watched to see if I would fight back was exhausting.

  We agreed that the pink almonds would do if the blue ones proved impossible to get, and the atmosphere was relaxed enough that we all laughed when Wendy said slyly, "I assume not the ones that 'fell' on the floor?"

  Once we agreed that those would end their days in the garbage, we went through the schedule for the wedding and made sure everything and everyone would be in the appropriate spots. Then Linda checked her watch and said, "It's manicure time, ladies. Derek, want to join us?"

  We laughed and he said, "I'll leave you to it. Have fun."

  We did, actually. Linda told everyone we encountered at the spa that I was marrying her son tomorrow and they were all so nice to me, and I sat with our moms and Wendy and was actually able to laugh when Linda joked that we might have to bodily remove Owen from the casino for the wedding. She made it sound impossible that he wouldn't be there right on time and that made me feel better. She knew her son far better than I did, and if she thought he'd show up I didn't need to worry.

  I boosted my mood even more by taking a stand on my manicure. I'd intended to go with the red, but when the first coat hit my first nail it seemed too bright and too overdone. It was hard to do, with the other three raving over it, but I said, "I think I want something else."

  "French," my mom said, smiling with satisfaction.

  I shook my head. That didn't feel right either.

  The technician, still holding the red polish bottle, said, "Then what?" She glanced at my feet. "Like your toes, maybe?"

  I looked at them too. "Great idea." The smoky silver-blue had chipped but I still liked the color. Plus, it reminded me of the gorgeous shawl I'd let go. If I couldn't have it at least I could have its color. "Yes. Let's do that."

  "Really?" Linda managed to put a world of doubt into that one word.

  "It can be your 'something blue'," Wendy said. "You need one."

  I turned and grinned at her, knowing she knew full well that I'd bought a pale blue satin strapless bra and matching underwear to wear under my dress. "Good idea. And you're letting me wear the antique gold bracelet you got from your grandmother and my dress is new and I'm borrowing Mom's white sandals. So I'm all set."

  She grinned back. "Perfect."

  The technician retrieved the correct bottle. "Okay, and we should probably redo your toes too. Everything should be perfect."

  Linda and my mom didn't say anything, and I felt sure they both thought the color wouldn't be perfect, but I didn't look at them because I wanted it and I didn't want to have to defend it.

  Once all of our nails were done, we laid out our hands together at Linda's insistence so a technician could take a picture of them. My blue nails looked nice with Wendy's pale pink, and Linda's magenta and my mom's French weren't bad either. "Four lovely ladies," Linda said, accepting her camera back. "We're like 'Sex and the City'."

  We all chuckled, and as we left Wendy whispered to me, "More like us and two 'Golden Girls'."

  I burst out laughing and Linda turned back to smile at me. "You like that, Mel? Which of the girls are you?"

  "I've never given it much thought."

  "Well, let's. It's lunch time, so let's go have a nice girly lunch and drink cosmopolitans and talk about sex."

  I met my mom's eyes, which were filled with the same horror I felt at the idea of hanging out together talking about sex. She smiled at me and said to Linda, "How about you talk and we listen?"

  Linda laughed. "Fine by me."

  We had a lovely lunch, with only a bit of sex talk from Linda about Raul's skill in the bedroom and none of it so graphic that I wouldn't be able to face him at dinner, but by the end of the meal I could see Wendy getting restless. As we finished our coffee she said, "I think I'd like to take my bride-to-be here over to the island for a little shopping since I don't have a present for her. Would you guys mind terribly if it was just us? I haven't spent much time alone with her lately and I'd like to."

  They gave way with good grace and Wendy and I took the little tender boat from the cruise ship over to the pier. On the island, we found an ice cream shop and settled in for a snack. I'd barely taken a bite when Wendy said, "So, how are you?"

  I blinked. "You've been hanging out with me all day, don't you know?"

  She leaned back in her chair. "You seem fine. A little overly cheerful, but fine."

  "Aren't I supposed to be cheerful? I'm getting married tomorrow."

  She studied me, and I waited for her to explain the difference I already knew between 'cheerful' and 'overly cheerful'. She didn't, though. Instead, she looked down at her ice cream, then out the window.

  "What?"

  She turned her attention back to me. "I don't know. I don't know what to say, whether I should say anything or not. Should I?"

  I considered playing innocent, but I knew what she meant and I didn't feel like playing games with her. "It's going to be okay," I told her, trying to convince us both. "Things will be fine when Owen and I get home."

  She nodded, although I felt sure she still had doubts, then confirmed my suspicion by saying softly, "And what about Nicholas?"

  I stared past her out the window, seeing and not seeing the beach so like the one he and I had spent the day and evening on together. "It'll pass. It's..." I shrugged. "It's like a crush, right? It'll go away." A pang of pure pain tore through me but I took a deep breath and it faded, just like I needed my feelings for Nicholas to fade. That gave me strength to look back at her and say, "It's not real. I'm sure of it. It's only a fling."

  She started to nod then froze. "A fling? Did you guys..."

  I shook my head. "A few hugs, that's it. No, I just meant the feelings aren't real."

  She showed me her thoughtful duck face and didn't speak.

  "Wendy. Seriously. In a few weeks we're going to be laughing about this, about there being any question of whether I should get married. Owen's a great guy. I'll be fine."

  The duck didn't go away. "I hear you, but... if you're having feelings for Nicholas, and you think he might have them for you too, then..."

  I knew he had them for me, but I didn't think saying that would end this conversation any faster and I wanted it ended. "They're a mirage, Wendy. Not real. Like... like the idea that Austin will ever settle down."

  She laughed. "That's definitely not real. At least, I can't imagine it. But man, is he a good flirt! He makes you feel like you're the only girl on earth, doesn't he?"

  "Definitely." But so did Nicholas, and not in the same 'I'll turn this on someone else in a second' way. I pushed that aside, since it wasn't any help to think about things like that, and added, "He sure does."

  "Mark says nice stuff too, of course, but there's something about how Austin says it. Melissa, I kid you not, I could just sit and listen to him all day."

  I giggled. "I doubt Mark would like that."

  "Well, there's got to be some way to convince him it's okay. Help me out here."

  We laughed and joked and talked, neither of us even hinting at the problems around Nicholas and my wedding again, until it was time to board the little tender boat to return to the cruise ship, when while we waited for our turn I spontaneously reached out and hugged her hard.

  She squeezed me back. "What's this for?"

  "You're a great friend."

  "That's true," she said calmly, and we laughed as we released each other.

  She sobered first. "I'm one hundred percent on your side, okay? Anything you need, I'm there. Got it?"

  I hugged her again. "I got it. Thank you." I wouldn't do anything about it, but I got it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dinner that night was far more com
fortable than the night before. Nicole's chair had been taken away from our table, so we weren't constantly looking at her empty place, and everyone seemed pretty relaxed for a pre-wedding dinner. Edgar came over and again expressed his excitement that he'd be marrying off one of Linda's boys the next morning and his genuine happiness touched me.

  The only awkward moment came as we finished our coffee, when Linda said to me, "So, where are you sleeping tonight?"

  I blinked. She hadn't seemed at all bothered by me sleeping in Owen's room before.

  She turned to Owen. "Or are you moving out?"

  He didn't have any more idea what she meant than I did, so she rolled her eyes and said, "You can't stay together tonight. Or you'll see her in the morning and it's bad luck to see your bride before your wedding. I should know, I saw all three of my grooms."

  Austin chuckled. "Mel's welcome to stay with me."

  "I'd rather sleep in a hallway."

  He laughed and winked at me, and Linda said, "Or, more appropriately, Owen could stay with you and Mel could keep their room."

  "Ordinarily I'd be delighted to hang out with my brother in a stateroom the size of a closet, but I've had my eye on a young lady and I'm hoping she'll want to spend some quality time with me. So I'd rather keep my place to myself, if we can work that out. Myself and her, of course."

  Linda swatted him on the shoulder. "You're so difficult. Okay, what else can we do? Nicky, are you more helpful than Austin?"

  We all looked at him, and his neck reddened. I couldn't imagine he'd want to have Owen staying with him the night before I married him, and sure enough he said, "Well, my room's just got one bed. I like Owen and everything, but that's a little closer than I want to be."

  Linda's forehead wrinkled. "It doesn't separate into two beds?"

  The one in my stateroom did, and I knew Wendy's did too, but Nicholas shook his head and said, "Nope, sorry."

  Linda turned to Owen. "Does yours?"