First Dance - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 03]

by Karen Kendall

  "Now, you two aren't going to get into a tiff at my wedding, are you?"

  "A tiff ? You're joking, right? Manhattan attorneys don't get into tiffs, sweetie. We rush for the jugular, crush the windpipe and hack off the legs at the knee."

  "I mean, there won't be any unpleasantness, right?"

  "Well. She may be tempted to assassinate me." Viv smiled. Then she had to ask. "Her attorney won't be at the reception, will he?"

  Julia looked blank for a moment.

  "J.B. Anglin?"

  She brightened. "Oh, J.B. That darling man. Yes, of course he'll be there. He's one of Roman's dearest friends."

  Uh-oh . She should have known. "So, Julia. You don't mind if I attend your wedding by videoconfer-ence, do you?"

  "Very funny." Her friend eyed her curiously. "Why? What happened between you and J.B.?"

  "Nothing, nothing," Viv assured her hastily. "It was just a rough case, that's all. Feathers got ruffled all around."

  Julia folded her arms and sat back from the table. "Viv, let's order dinner. And then, while we're eating, you can tell me the truth. You're a very convincing liar, but I've known you too long to ignore the signs. You get extra impassive and your eyes go carefully blank, when you're telling half-truths.

  "It's an expression I remember from schoollike the time you covered for me with the headmistress when I'd snuck out to meet Richard Carlisle. And the time you swore up and down that you had no knowledge of how the grain alcohol got into the punchsome boys from St. John's must have done it."

  Viv remembered. She'd had the Everclear bottle duct-taped to her thigh during the whole conversation with Mrs. Burlock. The tape had ripped tiny hairs out of her leg later, when she disposed of the evidence in the Dumpster, and she'd been unable to get the sticky residue off her skin in the shower.

  But all she said was, "Julia, you're imagining things."

  "I'm not. What happened between you and J.B. in New York?"

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Vivien ordered a carb-laden pasta dish swimming in a full-fat cream sauceand another glass of the Australian Chardonnay. What happened between J.B. and me in New York is going to stay safely tucked away there, three years and two thousand miles away.

  Julia, being disciplined about her figure before her big day, ordered a salad. That done, she repeated her question.

  "Nothing happened between us," Viv lied.

  Julia's lovely blue eyes narrowed. "I'm going to order the biggest, fattest, rhinestone-covered bow and Velcro it to your buttyours alone!on my wedding day if you don't tell me everything."

  "I'm calling your bluff. You want an elegant, tasteful ceremony."

  "Then I'll put Little Bo Peep bonnets on every single one of you bridesmaids, and make you carry a stinky live lamb."

  Viv shook her head. "There's nothing to tell!"

  Julia played her trump card. "Pink," she hissed.

  FIRST DANCE

  "Rayon. With mammoth cabbage roses and a matching wreath on your head."

  " Nooooooooo ," Vivien moaned.

  "And I'll send a close-up of you to the New York Post !"

  "Okay, okay. You could say Anglin and I had a mutual attraction thing going."

  "You saw him across a crowded courtroom," Julia said, her eyes shining.

  "Yes. Wearing a giant condom hat, because he's a"

  "No, he's not. He's a really nice guy. Did you know that he used to play pro football? And that his wife left him when that didn't work out? That was about three and a half years ago, I think. Roman said he hasn't even dated anyone since then."

  Great. Oh, perfect. That would be around the time I was so nice to him.

  "So you exchanged sizzling glances in court, while you both attempted to destroy the characters of each other's clients."

  "Something like that."

  "And then you dated clandestinely outside of the case."

  Dated? Nooooo. Not exactly. One steamy, acrobatic encounter does not a date make . "Well, no," she said aloud. "He was invited up to some black-tie thing that Kiki's New York firm was sponsoring, after the case was settled. He needed a date; a 'worthy conversational adversary,' is how he put it. He called me and we made a brief appearance at the party."

  "And?" Julia prompted.

  And then I had the best sex of my entire life, but he scared the hell out of me because he was too intense . "And then we had a drink."

  "Viv! You're worse than a clam. Spill!"

  "Okay, fine. One thing, as they say, led to another and we ended up at the Plaza."

  "I'm shocked at you, young lady." Julia grinned and shook her head. "You of all people, getting it on with a cowboy like J.B."

  "He's got a good seat." Viv's lips twitched.

  "I'll just bet he does. So what happened then? Did you see each other again?"

  "No. Come on, Julia. I live in New York. He lives in Texas. Get real."

  Their entrees arrived, thank God, so Viv didn't have to go into detail about their parting. She didn't want Julia to know how she'd come close to losing her heart to a man she'd known intimately for only an hour. She couldn't reveal to her friend how she'd panicked and, true to form, overcompensated for her insecurity with an Ice Queen act.

  These just weren't the kinds of confidences Vivien shared. She kept personal humiliations private. She was happy to share triumphs, but preferred that debacles stayed under wraps. Why advertise your shortcomings and failures? There were plenty of people out there who were more than happy to throw them in your face, or even make some up if they couldn't discern any.

  Once the waiter was gone, Julia pounced again.

  "So you had a one-night stand with J.B. Anglin but never spoke to him again."

  More like he never spoke to me again. For good reason . Viv shrugged. No way in hell was she going to admit that she knew the man's office mailing address by heart.

  Then Julia said something horrifying. "Well, since J.B.'s a groomsman and you're a bridesmaid, I'll have you walk down the aisle on his arm to make amends."

  Viv's mouth went drier than her skin in a New York January. "He's a groomsman?"

  "Of course. I told you that he's a good friend of Rome's. Since you've already taken more than his arm, you won't mind, right?" She smiled sweetly.

  Viv swallowed a couple of strands of linguine whole and glared at Jules, who looked far, far too innocent. Like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

  "And after all, he'll be clothed."

  "Julia! Brides are not supposed to indulge in fiendish laughter. You people focus on sugar and spice and everything nice."

  "Listen to that! You people . You people? Like brides are Martians or something. Beings from another planet, in a galaxy far, far away." Julia waved a slice of cucumber at her.

  "Where no sane person has gone before," Viv said solemnly. "And you guys are Martians."

  "Venusians. We like lace and veils and sequins and roses"

  "Stop! You're giving me hives." Viven swatted at Julia.

  " champagne and moonlight and heart-shaped doilies with little chocolate kisses on them"

  "Julia, you're getting feverish and delusional and I'm worried about you."

  "Sydney says it's due to a steady diet of white cake sampling."

  "Sydney is right!"

  "She says my brain is becoming a giant Swedish meatball."

  "You should listen to her."

  "Cynicism will get you nowhere."

  "Optimism is foolish."

  "Trade you some salad for some pasta?"

  "No way. But I'll give you some. Even though this is as good as anything I've had in New York. This place is amazing. What are they doing in Podunks-ville, Texas? They could be anywhere in the world with this food and wine."

  "Maybe you're discovering that this particular Po-dunksville is a hidden treasure." Julia smiled. "And wait until you have dessertyou will die, but happily."

  "Dessert? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

  "One
dessert won't hurt anything. Besides, your work habits will affect your heart before your diet will. Vivver," she blurted, "don't you ever want to get married and have kids?"

  Viv put down her fork. "No, I do not want to get married. I do think about kids, but there are perfectly good test tubes out there for making those."

  "You can't have a test-tube baby!"

  "Why not? I'll just have them stir one up and pop it in an incubator when I'm ready."

  "Viv! You act like you can just buy it off a grocery shelf, like a Duncan Hines cake mix. It's not that easy, and this is a little person you're talking about."

  "Yes?"

  "A little person who needs a mother"

  "I'm right here."

  "and a father"

  "I'll rent one occasionally. I don't want one underfoot."

  "You're impossible."

  "Not at all. I've thought this through, really."

  Julia covered her face with her hands. "You've thought this through? What kind of example will you be setting for this child?!"

  " A great one," said Viv. "I'm teaching him or her that women can be independent and self-sufficient. They don't need to rely on men for their happiness, their financial security or their life directions."

  "Fabulous theory. But a little flawed and sterile, hon. What about teaching that little person how to love and share and compromise?"

  "I will love her to distraction, and she'll be sharing a life with me . As for compromisewhy? Women compromise far too much, in my opinion. Men need to start doing that."

  Julia looked at her for a long time in silence, then reached out and touched Viv's shoulder. "Do you think maybe your job is getting to you? Making you a touch nihilistic?"

  Viv thought about it. Had seeing women dumped

  en

  because they hit age forty or gained twenty pounds made her bitter? Had objecting to wives being used as punching bags changed her views? You bet .

  Had she wanted to scream when a client told her about being on an "allowance" from her husband, or having to ask his "permission" to go to lunch with a friend? Of course !

  And what about the men who bought expensive jewelry for their girlfriends on the side, while claiming that they couldn't afford a cleaning service for their wives who worked seventy-hour weeks and took care of the children? Did that make her bitter? Unavoidably so . However, it did not make her nihilistic.

  Viv said to her friend, "To be nihilistic I'd have to believe in nothing at all. I believe in lots of ideas and principles. But not always traditional ones, Jules."

  "You're just arguing with me. You know what I mean."

  "Look. Has marriage made your parents happy? Because it didn't bring a lot of joy to mine. Or their parents, either. And I handle divorces every day."

  "Viv, you're supposed to be the smart one here. Miss Harvard Law. And I'm just the little blond fashion merchandising major. But happiness should not be a noun! It should be a verb. You have to work constantly at it. Maybe it's not that our parents weren't happythey just got lazy ." And Julia tossed her napkin on the table, disappearing to the ladies' room.

  Viv just stared after her, while the waiter appeared with dessert menus. She noticed that a woman in the corner, with bright orange hair, was staring at her. Viv stared right back until the woman finally looked away.

  She decided to take refuge in a mocha-hazelnut cheesecake. How could she refuse such a dessert?

  When Julia returned, Viv hissed, "Who is the scary woman with carrot hair?"

  Jules didn't even need to look up. "That's Thelma Lynn Grafton, town gossip. We haven't been officially introduced yetand I'm gladbut Syd's met her."

  They ordered dessert and cappuccinos in pensive silence.

  At last Julia asked, "You're not serious about this test-tube baby thing, are you?"

  "Yes, I am, actually. I have yet to meet the man I could tolerate living in my space on a long-term basis. A man I would share a bathroom with, or whose laundry I would do." And you don't even want to know about the ugly things I've seen men do in and out of court .

  For example, she didn't tell Julia about the custody case in which a husband paid several women to falsely testify that they'd had relations with his wife.

  She didn't tell her about the guy who'd murdered his estranged wife midtrial, and left her to be discovered, half clothed, in the most horrifically undignified position possible.

  And Viv didn't mention the disgusting, brutal details of incest and child abuse that she sometimes encounteredbecause she had to block them out of her own mind, and work at not killing the male per-petrators with any means available, "fair trial" be damned.

  No, none of that belonged in this conversation. She'd stay on the somewhat light side.

  Viv took a large, inelegant bite of her cheesecake and waved her fork at Julia.

  "Do you realize that when you marry Romulus"

  "Roman."

  "Right. When you marry Roman, you will never have your own space again . He will always be breathing your air, eating your food, using your toilet, shaving in your sink. He will always have control of the television. He will never admit that you are right. He will throw his underwear on the floor and wait for you to pick it up and wash it. He will snore in your ear. He will fill up your refrigerator with beer"

  "Wine," corrected Julia. "And that's fine by me."

  "Wine, then. But let me finish."

  "I doubt you ever will." Julia smirked.

  "He'll bring fattening man-food into the house and you'll gain thirty pounds just by looking at it"

  "Vivver, you're such an only child. I get the idea. Eat your dessert."

  Viv realized her tirade was hopeless and stuck another unwieldy bite of cheesecake into her mouth. Behind her, Cuvee's front door opened and she noticed a smile spreading over Julia's face. She heard footsteps approach.

  Sheltons didn't corkscrew their necks. Like members of the royal family, Sheltons waited until a subject approached before deigning to extend a hand. She figured this was Redneck Roman, and he'd show himself soon enough. She savored the cheesecake in her mouth before having to formally greet him.

  "Vivien," Julia said, "I know you've been dying to meet Roman. Roman, meet my dear friend Vivien Shelton."

  Viv looked up at a handsome, refined-looking guy as he kissed Julia's cheek and then nodded. Cordially, she held out her hand.

  Then another, very broad-shouldered man came into view. All bronze skin, dirty-blond wavy hair and loads of attitude, this man stared her down.

  J.B. Anglin asked her softly, "What's a bad girl like you doing in a nice place like this?"

  He could have knocked her down with the contempt written across his face. His intense green eyes pinned her into place. The color of Savannah moss, they were shot through with little golden flecks and hostility.

  Viv froze for a split second. Then she tried to gasp for air, finish swallowing and make a sarcastic retort all at once.

  Central Command couldn't process all those messages simultaneously; she sucked cheesecake crumbs into her lungs, swallowed air and coughed the sarcastic retort.

  When her body tried to recover, it malfunctioned yet again. The cheesecake went down, but it stuck, and she began to cough and choke in earnest.

  "Viv, are you okay?" asked Julia urgently.

  She nodded but then shook her head and put a hand to her throat.

  J.B.'s eyes narrowed on her, while her own began to water and bulge as she fought for air.

  "Christ, she's choking!" yelled Roman, stepping toward her. But J.B. beat him to her.

  He grabbed Viv unceremoniously by the waist Escada suit and alland hauled her out of her chair, against his body. He clasped his hands together in front of her, and jerked her back hard, hitting her square in the diaphragm with his fists. When that didn't work, he did it again.

  The piece of cheesecake lodged in her throat flew up, and unfortunately out, landing in Julia's coffee.

  Viv gasped air into her lun
gs and hung weakly over J.B.'s right arm, slowly registering the breezy scent of his laundry detergent, the clean fragrance of Ivory soap, and the earthy man-smell that was peculiarly his own. He rubbed her back with his free hand, sending comfort and pleasure eddying through her body in spite of the circumstances. A deep shiver spiraled through her.

  "You okay?" he asked gruffly, just as Roman voiced the same question and Julia thanked God aloud.

  "Fabulous," she managed. Coffee dripped into her open-toed sling-back, and J.B.'s warmth and toughness seeped through her clothes. Viv made sure she wasn't going to lose her balance in the puddle of coffee and then stood up and pulled away from him.

  Immediately he took a couple of steps back, then shoved his hands into his pockets. The contempt slowly crept back into his expression. It settled along his high cheekbones, dripped along the grooves etched from nose to mouth and pooled in his dimples.

  i

  J.B. was all straight shoulders and long, lean legs. .

  He had a physique honed by years of long, sweaty hours on the practice field and a quiet, innate confidence that owed nothing to others. His nose had definitely been broken near the bridge, which gave him a faintly pugilistic look.

  His remarkable green eyes had held a lot of humor and self-awareness three years ago. She remembered running her hands through his hair and recalled the only soft part of him: his earlobes. She'd held them between her forefingers and thumbs, stroking the velvety textureuntil he'd playfully bitten the tip of her nose.

  Sexual awareness flashed through her, bizarre at this moment since she was still recovering from almost choking to death. Utterly inappropriate timing. Worrisome.

  She took a deep breath. "Thank you," she said, her hand reflexively reaching for her throat. "You're a good man to know in an emergency."

  His gaze moved over her body openly and she felt her blood heat. He'd seen every part of her, and licked it, too.

  He lifted a brow. "Emergency? And here I thought it was just a little ballroom dancing. The old Heim-lich Tango, sweetheart."

  She paused. Nobody, but nobody , called her sweetheart. Under normal circumstances she'd be tempted to deck him. However, these were far from normal circumstances. He had just saved her life. She supposed she should demonstrate a little grace and allow him his patronizing term of endearment.