“Rrrrr!” Wendy unbuckles her seatbelt. “The heck with all this waiting! I'm going after Ray. The silly script is probably in her underwear drawer or in the bed somewhere!”
And just like that, Wendy's out of the car and through Lola's front door.
Lola's front door.
Arlen doesn't think of anything. Anything at all. He just waits. After five minutes, he feels like he's been in the car for three hours. And why the hell didn't Ray leave the keys so he could at least turn on the air or crack the windows? It's like a millionty-seven degrees. He smiles for a sec, thinking of Ella, then he launches himself out of the car and walks carefully up to Lola's house.
He takes a steadying breath. Then he goes in.
Much cooler inside. And it smells different. Like … roses or something. And what the fuck? Music plays softly—Sleepers Awake by Bach, he's pretty sure. Is it piped through the house? Someone rigged up stereo sound through the house? Lola hired someone to do that? In her house? She hired someone else to come into her house?! And she changed the fucking gate code?
“Guys!” he roars. “The damn script is probably in the refrigerator!”
“That's a good guess.”
Arlen swings toward the soft voice coming from the stairs.
There's Lola, sitting on about the sixth step. And she's wearing a white strapless sundress sprigged with … cornflowers? Lilacs?
“Lola?” he says. “What the hell are you doing here? Where are Ray and Wendy?”
“Out back with the others.”
Arlen blinks, giving his head a brief shake. “Others? Is the shoot here and Ray just didn't want to tell me? Did he think I'd refuse to come back here? Even for a shoot?”
Lola stands up and swallows. She walks down a step. “There is no shoot, Arlen. It's a fake scene. I made it up.”
Arlen steps closer. “Why?”
Lola smiles but she looks scared. “To give the universe,” she says quietly, “or more specifically you, the chance to crush me like a bug.”
Chapter 76
LOLA
Arlen stands there looking at me, not moving. But I see a muscle in his jaw jump. I walk down another step.
I shrug.
Why the hell do I shrug? Don't I need to be strong here? But I'm so scared. Arlen has the power to destroy me. I'm giving him the chance to decimate me.
I really look at him. “I ...” I try to take a deep breath but can't manage it, so I square my shoulders. “I want to show you how much I trust you. How much I trust what you say and how you feel.” I suck in some air. “The night of the rave, you said that I could marry you. That nothing had to change, but that every night you would come home to me or I would come home to you.” I smile and lower my voice. “And everything would change. For both of us.”
I watch his eyes open a bit wider as he looks around the hall, taking in the music, and the cool, floral-scented air. Then he looks right at me, his eyes slowly moving up my body, across my mostly white dress up to my subtle cleavage—where I wonder if he can see my heart pounding right through my skin.
“Lola ...” he begins, and there's doubt in his voice, as if he believes I'm a loose cannon who needs to be dealt with carefully. “What's going on here?”
“I decided to trust in what you said. In what you want. And I jumped in. Feet first, eyes closed.” My voice gets still quieter. “Heart full.”
He swallows. “Are you saying that you want to marry me, right now? Today?” He leans to try to look out toward the back yard. “In front of the whole cast and crew?”
I take another step down. “I want to marry you today. I do. But not with the cast and crew. I mean, Wendy and Ray are here. And Tom is Ray's date. But they're the only ones from the show. There's also Katie and Mary Lou and Matteo and Ella and Pam. And Dan. And Jim and Susan. And my parents and my brother Colin. And your parents. And Nick and Nora.”
Arlen's eyes bug out. “What? Here? They're all here? You told them all we were getting married?”
I shake my head quickly. “No. I didn't lie and I didn't spin it. And I'm not trying to trick you or force you into anything. I took a leap. I called them all and explained that I was a coward and a control freak and a jerk to you and that I need to show you how much I believe in you.”
“And what did my parents say?”
“They said, 'Who are you again?'”
Arlen smiles and gives the barest nod. “I can just imagine.”
“But I convinced them to give it a chance and see what happens,” I say. “I convinced everyone to give it a chance, no promises. So I paid for all their plane tickets and got a justice of the peace and a big breezy tent in the yard. And food. And music. Well, I let the kids and Ray do the music. Everything's set. Good to go.” I pause and swallow. “Everything but you. That part is up to you.”
Oh, God. He's looking at me like I am completely bonkers. Like I did the wrong thing.
I keep talking. “You said I could command an Armada and you would stand back and watch me do my stuff.”
Arlen takes a step closer to me. “Lola ...”
Still the doubt. And … regret? Is that REGRET in his voice? Regret that he has to crush me like a bug? Oh, no.
“Lola … I get that you're trying to prove something, I do. But ...”
Oh, no.
“... is this what you want? Do you want to marry me?”
“I—” My throat closes up with such a hard knot. “I want—” I have to swallow about a millionty-seven times before I can continue. He's not convinced. A surprise wedding and he still doesn't get how much I want to marry him. I have to make him believe me.
I take a deep breath and just think about what I want, more than anything in the world. And it's not Sam.
“I want to come home to you every day,” I say. “Not to the same house. I want to come home. I want you to know where I am and what time I'll be home. I want you to yell at me when I drink all the coffee and don't make a new pot because I am so going to yell at you if you do that. I want to text you from the store to see if we need olives. I want your worries to be mine and mine to be yours. I want to do our taxes together and I want to blackmail Jon into giving us more time with the kids. I want to watch football with you on Sunday afternoons. I want to wear your T-shirts to work because I was too busy watching Lord of the Rings with you to do my own laundry. So … yeah, I want to marry you.”
Arlen lets out a pent up breath I didn't know he was holding and relief washes over his face. He pulls me down another step and into a hug. “Jesus, Lola, talk about burying the lead.”
I pull back. “You mean … you mean … all I had to say was 'yes?'”
He smiles at me. “I really like everything you said,” he says quietly. “But yeah, 'yes' was what I really wanted to hear. More than anything.”
We pretty much leap at one another and clutch each other with all our might. And then he's kissing me. And I'm kissing him and I don't ever want to stop. When we both need to catch our breath, he pulls back a tiny bit and trails kisses along my jaw.
And when he gets near my ear, he murmurs, “But you're never wearing my T-shirts to work. You spill everything on yourself and you get holes in your clothes faster than anyone I know.”
I look at him and pout. “That's not nice.”
“What?” he challenges. “You can launch battalions at the drop of a hat, but if you marry me, suddenly you won't be able to scrape together an outfit?”
“Well,” I say, “can I at least wear your T-shirts to bed?”
“As long as you're asking,” he says, picking up my hand and kissing my knuckles, “No. I'd like it if you didn't wear anything to bed.”
“What about when the kids are here?” I volley.
He stops kissing my hand and looks up at me. “Okay,” he relents. “When the kids are here.”
He kisses me again and I swear my knees really do buckle.
“Where do you want to live,” he asks softly between kisses.
I pull back and look in his eyes. “Here. This is our house, Arlen. You're everywhere, inside and outside. It's been torture being here without you.”
Arlen runs a thumb along my cheek. “Really?”
I nod, my eyes tearing up. “I've already moved my office into the library down here so there are two rooms for the kids upstairs. And I meant what I said—I want to blackmail Jon for more time with them. I have an awesome idea for getting Christmas with—”
Arlen pulls me to him and kisses me. Then he hugs me. “Let's do this, Lola. I seriously need to marry you ASAP.”
He takes my hand and we head to the back of the house. When we get to the glass doors, we stop. Everyone is outside. Watching. Waiting. When they see us through the glass, together, holding hands, they cheer. And the wonder of it all makes me laugh and grip Arlen's hand tighter.
Arlen can't stop smiling. “You did all this, Lola,” he says to me. “You got the whole family together, our whole universe. You really are The Queen.”
“I'm not the queen of the universe,” I say, turning to him. “I'm a part of it. We're a part of it.” I smile up at him. “And it feels fantastic.” I slide open the glass door. “Let's go.”
EPILOGUE
Trending on Twitter
#WendyHunterPalmLeafGirl
Wendy Hunter signs multi-million dollar deal to be the new face of Palm Leaf Beauty
21.7K tweets about this trend
###
from: Jacko Tovell [email protected]
to: Jon Robin [email protected]
subject: Paris housing
Jon,
International Division approved everything. Apartment on the Seine all set. One bedroom, spacious office. It's yours for the duration of the contract, unless, within those seven years, you buy or rent property elsewhere in France. Lease and contract attached.
Jacko
###
Most Hits Today on The Hollywood Story:
How will Arlen Black follow up his top-rated first season on this year's break-out show? Off the Beaten Path insiders say the actor who's become famous for playing brooding bounty hunter Sam Destry is refusing all offers that would keep him busy during the show's hiatus. According to an inside source, while his wife, show creator Lola Scott, is gearing up for Season Two, Black will be getting back to his construction roots by adding a wing to his and Scott's home in the Hollywood Hills. When asked if he and Scott were expecting an addition to the family, Black grinned. “Four additions, actually. From ages eleven to sixty-five.”
THE END
Now Available on Amazon...
Geralyn Corcillo's next romantic comedy,
Catch a Falling Star,
the story of Wendy Hunter and Colin Scott.
Here is Chapter One:
CHAPTER 1
Five months ago
Colin Scott stood in the shade of the giant catalpa and couldn't help but smile. Hell, he was grinning down-right stupidly, from ear to ear, as he watched Lola dance. He was actually watching his sister dance at her wedding. Hot damn! For so long, Colin had wondered if Lola would ever find a man strong enough—and chill enough—to love her in all her kick-ass glory, secrets and all. A man she could love right back with her whole heart and soul.
And now she'd found Arlen. The two of them were just so quietly awesome together. No PDA's or winks or cutesy stories or salacious double-entendres. They were just so absolutely tuned-in to one another.
And man, it made Colin feel all melty and tingly at the same time to see her with the kids. Her kids. Sort of. No, fuck that. They were her kids. Lola's and Arlen's. No matter what that bastard Jon said or how much time—
“Hey!” He spilled his mineral water all down his shirt as Goddamned Wendy Hunter backed into his thigh with her bony ass.
“Watch it,” she tossed back.
“Me watch it?”
She straightened up and turned to face him. “I'm trying to get a good shot.”
He watched as she started swiping at the screen of her phone. Okay, she was this super-famous actress and Lola's friend and everything, but holy shit, was she ever a diva. And he so did not have time for the likes of Wendy Hunter. Not on Lola's Day.
“Why?” he asked. “So you can post it on Instagram and everywhere else and get yourself trending?” He curled his fingers into his palms so he didn't reach right out and crush her phone. “This is Lola's wedding. Lola's. It's not about you. You don't need to tell the Twitter-sphere how you spent the last five minutes. The world can survive without regular updates from you.”
Wendy lifted a brow and let a cat-like smile curve into her lips. “So you follow me on Instagram and Twitter.”
“Ha!” he barked. “I'm a high school football coach. I spend half my time confiscating cell phones and plenty of times, the kids are looking at trending selfies of you.”
“Well,” Wendy said, pulling herself up to her full height of five foot seven in four-inch heels. She tossed back her hair and looked toward Lola and Arlen, lining up her phone. He could tell that she was doing her best to show him that being called out as a pin-up for high school boys didn't dent her diamond-plated armor in the least. “I've got fans of all ages.”
“But none of them need to see private pictures of my sister's wedding.”
She spun to face him. “You don't get the dynamics of what all this means.”
“You don't get how hard Lola's had to fight her entire life to get here. And she doesn't need to be trending on Yahoo or Facebook or Twitter or anywhere. You know, some of us just live our lives and we don't have to post every damn second to social media just to feel like it really happened.”
“Oooh!” Wendy harsh-whispered, looking ready to deck him. “How dare you! You—”
“That's awesome,” he broke in suddenly, his face lighting up with a goofy smile. “Really.” Then he leaned in and said more quietly. “You have to shut up and dance with me. Lola just looked over and did a double-take. We're the only ones not dancing.” He pulled back and laughed. “I bet you can dance better than me. So let's go.”
Wendy shot one quick glance around the yard to see that all other sixteen people at the wedding were dancing.
And in a wink, she was twirling onto the smooth patio tiles as he followed.
It was fast-ish dancing, so no touching and no taking each other's hands. Which meant she still clutched that damn phone of hers.
When Colin looked away from her cell and back to her face, he noticed her looking at him with a furrow between her brows.
“What?” he asked.
“You actually know how to move,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I grew up watching my sports heroes dance like baboons at their victory parades. I decided at a pretty early age that I never wanted to look that stupid.”
“But you never made it to the big leagues and victory parades, did you? I mean, did anyone ever film you dancing?”
“Besides in family wedding videos? Nah. I was good enough for college football, but not good enough for the NFL.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “You're not super huge or anything.”
“I was a running back. They tend to be fast and agile, not big.”
She cocked that damn brow again. “So you're telling me that you're fast and not that big.”
He threw back his head and laughed. He couldn't help it. “I guess I am. I'm standing here telling one of People's Most Beautiful People that I'm fast and not that big.”
As soon as she got home, Wendy stepped out of her Jimmy Choo's and tucked herself into the corner of her plush white sofa. She scrolled through the pictures on her phone as she sipped a chilled glass of Perrier.
Huh. She hadn't realized she'd taken so many shots of Colin. But drat it all, the man could swivel those hips of his. Not that his moves made him any less of a cretin. How dare he get all up in her face when he had no idea what was at stake for the show and for his sister's career? But at least he'd lightened up after the dance and
left her alone. Which was totally good since she had so much to choreograph.
Wendy took a deep breath. It was just about time for The Announcement.
Even though Wendy could tell from the moment she'd first met Arlen that he'd fallen hard for Lola and that Lola had fallen just as hard for him, she was pretty sure that the rest of the cast and crew from the show were clueless. Heck, Lola and Arlen hadn't even seemed to figure out how desperately they loved each other until pretty darn recently. But Wendy had to give the love-doves credit. Over the past few months, even as they tortured themselves trying to be together, then not be together, then be together, they had always been unflinchingly professional. And they would continue to be, Wendy had no doubt of that. But everyone else on the show might not see it that way.
Which is why Wendy had waited, but not too long. If she held off any longer, the paparazzi might get wind of the private wedding at Lola's house and be the first to break the news in the smuttiest fashion possible. She had to act now. Saturday night was the perfect time to drop the bombshell. After all, people who worked on the show couldn't really do too much in the way of going nuts about startling news on a Saturday night when everyone was off the clock and unavailable. And by the time they all woke up tomorrow, they'd be calmer and more rational. The story of the wedding in the email Wendy was going to send them all would freak them out, no joke. The show creator and the rookie leading man just got married? When they'd never even been dating? But Wendy's stamp of approval would go a long way toward making them realize it would all be okay.
She put down the glass of sparkling water with a slightly shaky hand. Her tummy did flip-flops every time she thought about possible reactions to the news. People would wonder if Arlen had been Lola's boy-toy since before the show and whether she'd simply been so sex-addled that she'd cast her lover as the show's dark and dangerous leading man. Or they'd wonder whether Arlen had targeted the woman in charge in order to further his career. It was all so silly! One look at Lola and Arlen and you just knew how right they were for each other.
Queen of the Universe (In Love in the Limelight Book 2) Page 23
