“In any case, that’s all water under the bridge. Tiffany signed all the papers. Of course, it goes without saying she didn’t have the money to fork out for the prohibitively expensive divorce attorney, so my parents mortgaged the house to save her ass her once more.” Harley rolls her eyes and shakes her head. I can’t blame her. From the stories my best friend’s shared with me, her big sister has always been messed up. “I give my parents money so they can handle the insane grocery bill since Tiffany’s moved in with them. After all, feeding six people isn’t cheap. I refuse to give Tiffany the money. For too many years, she’s treated me like an ATM machine.”
“Holy crap,” I say.
“Yup. Tiffany is like a bad soap opera that never ends. You can be certain there’ll be another cheesy installment, whether you want it or not.” Just like Nikolaj, Harley has always had a very difficult relationship with her sibling. Although I’m always here to support Harley, I don’t fully understand how two people who grew up together since birth can have such a negative and even destructive relationship given how close Sofia and I are. “On a good note, her idiotic soon-to-be ex-husband fell in love while he was on vacation four months ago. Hurray for all of us.” She smirks. “He’s packed his bags and moved down to Cancún. Greg is in such a rush to finalize things because he can’t wait to get rid of Tiffany and the kids so he can start his new life with his new girlfriend.”
“Gosh, I’m so sorry to hear that. Will he even support them financially?” Her sister really hit the jackpot when it comes to bottom-feeders.
I’ve known my best friend for a while now and the subject of her sister has always been a touchy one, but I’ve never seen her fuming this much.
“Who knows?” Harley shrugs. “It’s not as if he was such an incredible provider when they were married. Neither of them completed high-school. Not that it means anything nowadays since there are tons of tech wizards running companies worth gazillions of dollars who never bothered finishing school, but my sister and Greg were never geniuses. They’ve always held menial jobs that paid minimum wage. He could barely put food on the table for them while they were together, why would he bust his ass now when he lives in a different country and he needs to save his money to shower his new love with gifts?”
“Holy shit. It just seems to go from bad to worse with your sister.”
“Tell me about it, Ci.” Harley’s face is so tense. “If we’re going to continue talking about my trainwreck of a sister, I need more wine,” she says, getting up again for another bottle.
“Ciara has mentioned that Tiffany had her hands full, but she’s never gone into so many details. I’m really sorry, Harley. I never realized your sister was struggling so much.” Sofia always has such a diplomatic way of putting things.
Since Harley kicked her shoes off a long time ago, she tiptoes back to the table. I love the way she does that. She practically lives in skyscraper designer shoes and even when she’s barefooted she still walks as if her feet are confined in a pair of four-inch heels. “I’ve always asked Ciara not to share anything about the relationship I have with my sister because it’s the eight-hundred-pound gorilla I’ve been carrying on my shoulders since birth. I could win the Nobel Prize and my parents would completely ignore it if Tiffany cries wolf.” The worst part is that I believe her. “No matter how many times she screws up, she always has good luck stuck to her fucking forehead like glue. There’s always a Good Samaritan willing to dig her out of her shit.” Harley spits out the words and Sofia and I lock eyes. I’m not a mind reader, but I suspect she’s thinking what I’m thinking—how lucky we are to share such strong sisterly love. If it were possible, I’d say Sofia and I have grown even closer in the last ten months since finding out Diego is my father.
“What do you mean, Harl?”
“This time, my aunt Pauline is digging Tiffany out of her hole.”
“The one living out in Georgia?” I ask, surprised.
“As you know, my aunt Pauline has a quaint, but profitable bed-and-breakfast in Georgia. It’s such a beautiful land and I still remember going to visit when I was a kid. She’s been operating it for a while now and last year she opened a little eatery adjacent to the bed-and-breakfast. The reputation of her baking spilled well beyond the walls of her small lodging establishment and before you knew it, many locals were coming around to enjoy Sunday brunch because her mouthwatering all-American pastries are so addictive. Business has been booming and my aunt suggested my sister moves down with her three kids to start a new life and help her manage things. Since my sister has no other prospects, she was fortunate enough to have yet another lifeline extended to her without her even having to lift her little finger.”
Wow, I never thought Harley’s big sister would be willing to leave New York.
“It’s a good thing, Harl. She can finally move on. This will be an opportunity for her to stand on her own two feet and be financially responsible for her kids. She might not feel the need to fall for the first asshole who makes empty promises, right?”
My best friend chews on a piece of leftover baguette, mulling over my question. “Every time Tiffany makes a promise about turning her life around, it always turns out to be lip service. As unkind as this may sound, she needs to fall flat on her face without any type of safety net, aka family support, and then and only then will she grow up and learn how to take care of her offspring. My aunt might have good intentions, but it’s like giving Tiffany a handout. If you don’t work for it, it’s meaningless and knowing Tiffany, she won’t hesitate to throw it all to hell the second she meets another loser who sweet-talks her off her feet.” Harley’s dark stare bounces from mine to Sofia. The silence is telling.
“Sounds like you have a tense relationship with Tiffany,” Sofia says.
“That’s a nice way of putting it, Sofia.”
“Hear me out,” my sister pleads. “I know I would never have survived my own screwups had it not been for the support of my little sister.” Sofia locks teary eyes with me and I instinctively bring my hand to her cheek. “If I can speak from personal experience, everyone’s entitled to a fresh start in life—no matter how badly they mess up. I don’t think too many people have fucked up at the epic levels I have, but I’m proof that even though you’re down on your luck and even lost, it doesn’t mean you’ll stay there forever.”
“Hmph.” Harley crosses her arms over her chest, unconvinced, as if she’s protecting herself. “I’ve always wanted what you and Ciara have, but the reality is it’ll never be the case for Tiffany and I. Sofia, you screwed up because you were defrauded by a ruthless scumbag, not because you keep stepping into bucket of shit after bucket of shit. You got yourself out of your horrible financial nightmare and you didn’t sit around crying into your soup waiting for Mommy and Daddy to fork out money to dig you out of hell.”
“Just give her a chance, Harley,” Sofia says.
“I agree with Sofia,” I say. “Maybe moving to Georgia and getting far away from your parents will be her chance to prove to herself she can do it on her own. After all, your aunt will put her to work.”
“That’s what Aunt Pauline says. The good thing is that my aunt is a no-nonsense woman. She’s not as soft as my mom and she’ll call my sister out on her bullshit. Only time will tell if Tiffany can handle it or if she’ll coming running back to the safety of the parental home.”
“This could be a major turning point for Tiffany,” Sofia says.
My best friend sighs heavily. “Yeah.”
“Sof’s right, you never know, Harl.”
“Let’s switch to a more pleasant subject than my big sister’s sins or else I’ll need something way stronger than wine to calm my nerves. Not to mention we’re here because someone is going shopping for a wedding dress tomorrow.”
“Hell, yeah,” my sister chimes in.
And just like that all three of us snap back into happy mode.
“I’m getting married, I’m getting married, I’m getting married,�
� I sing like a five-year-old who’s been given her favorite ice cream flavor.
“Oh, my God. Stop it, Ci, you’re killing me.” Harley is in tears laughing at my childish reaction and Sofia is folded in half trying her best to control her own laughing fits.
“Sorry, but I can’t wait. It’s weird, because we bought a new townhouse in New York and we have this home, so technically we already live together and we all know I’ve been having some pretty incredible sex,” I say, batting my lashes while I lick my lips. Both my sister and my best friend roar with laughter. “Okay, seriously. The big difference is that after our wedding, he’ll be wholeheartedly mine. As we all know, I really wasn’t looking, but I’m so grateful I found the one. I didn’t think there was a man out there able to curb my appetite for commitment-free flings, but the second Nikolaj showed up at my hotel door in Barcelona, he claimed my heart.”
“Lucky gal, you get to marry the man of your dreams twice.” Harley is wiping off her smeared mascara with a smile still on her face.
“Well, about those two weddings…” I grin mischievously at Sofia and Harley, raising my eyebrows. “They’ve both been canceled.”
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?” Sofia asks, each word a staccato. My sister’s face scrunches up as she contemplates me, trying to make sense of what I just said.
“Sofia, is your sister on drugs or am I losing my hearing?”
“My God, I hope you’re not eloping. You’ll only end up killing Mom and sending Dad to the hospital in cardiac arrest. I’m pretty sure Diego will be mad as hell at you and I’ll be shopping for a new baby sister,” Sofia says with indignation.
“Thanks for the guilt trip, big sister.”
“What else am I supposed to think? We talked nearly every day for the last couple weeks and this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned anything like this. And in my defense, a few minutes ago you were cheering about getting married and now you tell us the weddings are canceled.”
“I know I’ve been living on the West Coast and we haven’t been talking as often, but I’d certainly remember if you ever mentioned anything close to what you just dropped on us.” Harley grimaces in confusion.
“It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”
“What are you up to, Ciara Isabella Herrera?”
Sofia only calls me by my full name when she’s pissed off or frustrated with me. Nik was right. Us running away would have hurt too many people. I’m glad we found a way better solution to all this wedding drama.
“Sof, you’re not even giving me the benefit of the doubt.”
“My first job is being a big sister and I take that very seriously.” She always has. “If you’re about to make a catastrophic mistake, I’ll be the one shaking some sense into you.”
Bless her heart for loving me this much.
“Thank God I’m not alone here because I’m totally lost,” Harley says. “I thought we were here to find you a dress because you can’t wait to become Ciara von Henningsen. How in the world is that supposed to happen if the weddings are off? Have I been drinking too much?”
“Harley, if my sister doesn’t start explaining fast, I’ll be the one finishing those bottles on the bar,” Sofia says, pointing behind me while squinting at me, mad as hell.
“Are the two of you going to stone me to death before I can even plead my case or are you willing to listen?”
“We’re listening.” Both my sister and my best friend sit a little straighter in their chairs and cross their arms over their chests at the same time. The visual is priceless.
“A few things have changed and I wanted to tell you face to face.”
“We’re here. Start talking.” Sofia uncrosses her arms and drums her manicured fingers against my cedar wood patio table. She always fidgets like this when she dreads bad news.
“Nikolaj and I have decided to scratch the Copenhagen and the New York ceremonies because…” I stop dramatically. I’m taunting them and pushing my luck, but I just can’t help it.
“Because?” my sister presses. When I still remain silent, shifting my eyes from my left to my right, my sister interjects again. “Hurry, woman, we aren’t getting any younger.”
“For the love of God, Ci, spill it.” Harley, being an impatient soul, cuts right to the chase.
“Kayla is offering me her newly renovated château in the South of France as the location for my big day and after visiting the enchanting estate, neither Nikolaj or I can imagine getting married anywhere else on this planet,” I blurt out, too giddy to contain my excitement any longer.
The bewildered looks on my sister’s and my best friend’s faces tell me how startled they are by my big reveal.
After a few long seconds, my sister manages one syllable. “Huh?”
“What the hell is a château?”
Harley’s question catches my sister and I by surprise and we both lose it.
“If one of you could stop laughing at my expense and explain what’s going on, I’d greatly appreciate it.” My best friend is obviously miffed, but we’re still laughing hysterically at her reaction.
I regain my composure. “Harl, I’m getting married in a castle in the South of France.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth gapes. “Holy mother of God. When you upgrade your life, you don’t joke around.”
“Seriously, Ciara, what happened? The last time we talked about your wedding you were pulling your hair out because you were dealing with bitchy Anton and your overbearing soon-to-be mother-in-law while juggling things with Tanner in New York.”
“Yeah, your sister’s right. From what you’ve candidly shared, I can’t imagine Nicoline’s okay about having to cancel that royal extravaganza she’s planned for you when you wed her son. How did she take the news?”
I open my mouth to answer, but my sister interrupts me. “Before we even talk about that, you need to explain everything from the beginning.”
I glance at my watch. “First off, Nikolaj must be dropping the bomb, I mean news, to his mother as we speak. I’m nervous as hell waiting for him to text me to let me know how Nicoline reacted. Cross your fingers she doesn’t hate me. Second off, Sofia’s right. There’s a lot I haven’t divulged and once I do, it’ll all make sense to you. Let me grab the lemon tart, I’ll brew a few espressos and I’ll fill you in.”
“Grab more wine as well. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” I admonish my sister.
“You don’t make these type of monumental changes two months before a wedding without some pretty good reasons. I’m simply preparing myself for the worst.”
“Whatever. One more thing before I get up, Sof.”
“You’re pregnant?” Her freaked-out expression is hilarious.
“No. Not yet, but we’re practicing a lot,” I tease.
“Ew. I don’t need to know that much about your sex life. You’re my baby sister,” she teases right back.
“Please don’t tell Mom or Emilio yet.”
“You don’t have to worry. Mom would have way too many questions for me to walk into that trap. Now, come on, go get that dessert and start spilling your guts.” She grins from ear to ear.
BOOK 6—ALWAYS & FOREVER
Chapter Seven
When Nikolaj and I visited Kayla’s château a few weeks ago, she had high praise for the wedding planning team she had hired. She relished her good fortune in snatching Colette Widmeyer from Ethereal Weddings in New York. The wedding planner extraordinaire has worked with celebrity A-listers, high-profile politicians, wealthy socialites and newly-rich tech wizards. She has the ability to transform any request, however far-fetched it may be, into a reality for elite clientele. Kayla expects Colette will continue to work her magic as she oversees six other talented planners whose job it is to make my wedding day at Château de Balzac an affair to remember. It’s also their job to make sure that this whole journey is as stress-free as possible. That’s definitely music to my ears.
Now, after a leisurely breakfast on my deck where we’ve ended up each polishing off another slice of last night’s lemon tart because it’s that good, Sofia, Harley and I climb into the back of the Benz for a full day of shopping. My first appointment of the day is at nine o’clock at Belle de Jour. As you can imagine, traffic is horrendous. Jerome saves the day by taking a few side streets and he drops us off with only two minutes to spare.
Belle de Jour is a smaller-scale version of Kleinfeld Bridal in New York. Although they have a few interesting designs, I was hoping to find something more unique. After a two-hour fitting that included way too many mermaid-style wedding dresses for my liking, we all hopped back in the car to my next appointment. The second shop belongs to Fabienne LaLanne, a well-established French designer with a reputation for bringing a fresh approach to classical and traditional wedding dresses. The styles I try are original and very feminine, but unfortunately they aren’t me. I really give it my best, hoping I might not have to visit a third store, but after two hours, seven dresses and way too many espresso coffees, I give up. I ask Jerome to drive us to La Vue for a quick lunch.
The name of the restaurant is quite fitting since it translates to ‘the view’ and it’s one of the rare rooftop eateries in the city. Since it’s another glorious sunny day, my best friend, my sister and I are able to take advantage of the spectacular Parisian panorama all the while stuffing our faces with the most succulent steak frites I’ve tasted in a long time. There’s no shortage of insanely delicious food in this city, but the classic steak and fries remains one of my favorites.
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