“Fix your lipstick,” he said, wiping his mouth. “And once you do that, once you put your shoes on, I lose you for the night.”
She frowned. Did he mean anything by that? It wasn’t only her performance she’d kept from him. He’d brushed off every fear she’d had for rebuilding Lucky’s, more confident in her abilities than she was. If she told him she was worried about the impact of her job on their relationship, he’d have denied it was an issue. But then, he’d made a career out of blasting obstacles in his way into dust. It was something she still had to learn from him. So right now, this anxiety was hers alone to work through.
“You won’t miss me. You’ll be busy too. You have best man duties, remember.”
He patted his pocket where she knew he had the rings Dev bought. “I always miss you when I can’t see you, Flygirl.”
“Ah, stop it, or I’ll have to fix my eyes as well.” It must be wedding fever affecting them both. It’d caused Owen and Cara to have a blow-up, and now it was making Reid say mushy things.
She slipped into the bathroom off her office and fixed her makeup, stepped into her shoes and when she came back outside, Reid had his suitcoat on. He turned to her and she wanted to smash time, slam the door and strip them both to their thudding heartbeats, but that would have to wait.
“You look gorgeous.” He shifted his heat-filled look to the doorway and she laughed at how in sync they were.
She wore a silver satin sheath dress with black beadwork and a fringed hem. All of her and Vi’s work clothing was Jazz-Age inspired, as were the staff uniforms. They’d been Cara’s best customer. The new Lucky’s owed nothing to its dive bar origins, classy all the way.
“We can’t make out every time we’re in my office.”
“Spoilsport,” he said, offering his arm.
They went downstairs together and she lost Reid to briefing staff, checking in with the kitchen, supervising the table settings and meeting with the house DJ.
The bar gleamed, all the table lamps had been lit, the kitchen was steaming, the welcome drinks were ready to pour, and Ella Fitzgerald sang “The Man I Love” when Zarley took a minute to stand with Vi and survey the scene. Vi wore a moss green drop-waisted dress that had a deep V at the back, with a silver fabric rose at her shoulder. She had smudgy eye makeup that had nothing to do with art and everything to do with the emotion of the moment.
“We did it,” she said, taking Zarley’s hands. “Lou would be amazed.”
Lou would be drinking straight from a bottle if he could see his dive bar reincarnated as a sexy take on a speakeasy. “Never thought we’d be soft opening with a wedding.”
Unexpectedly, it had given the staff a buzz. It wasn’t any opening night and everyone they’d hired knew it was personal to Zarley. You could see it in the care and attention they brought to bear and how they tolerated Cara poking at them, adjusting braces and waistcoats, fedoras and feather headbands.
For someone who’d been up till the early hours finishing Sarina’s dress, Cara looked amazing in a very short, fringed flapper dress in a soft mauve color. She’d teamed it with a cloche hat she insisted was staying on all night because hat hair was not happening in public.
Sarina was currently upstairs, dressing, having arrived with Ro and her mom by the back entrance.
“Break a leg,” said Vi, as she moved to the door to welcome the first guests who happened to be the girls from Lucky’s old dance crew: Kathryn, Lizabeth and Therese. Pouring in behind them was Dev’s youngest sister Ana with three friends. The one holding her hand had to be Connor. Then some folk Zarley didn’t know by sight, but Reid did so he took care of them. He was free by the time his mom arrived, but Zarley only had eyes for Dalton.
Her hometown sweetheart, her first love, greeted Vi with a big smile and stepped into the room with a gee whiz expression that made Zarley’s pulse kick. There was no sign of a limp, no sign of the anger that’d marked him after his army service and injury. The years peeled back and she remembered the unraveling excitement of her first kiss, the times they’d snuck out of windows to be together and the summer they’d become each other’s first for so many rites of adulthood. If things had turned out differently, she would be with Dalton now and they’d have a school-age child, maybe more than one. She’d never have experimented with too much alcohol or flirted with drugs, had too much sex that was about being angry and lost and trying to forget. She’d never have turned to pole dancing for the money to fund school, or met Vi.
Dalton found her before she had a chance to react, nearly knocking over a waiter with a tray of drinks on his way to her, grabbing the waiter’s arm, steadying his tray and gabbling apologies.
“You look . . . Aw, hell, Zarley.” His fingers went to his lips as if he was trying to coach the words out. He had the tanned skin of a farmer, the rough hands. But he looked good. He looked like true love too young, and the worst kind of heartbreak, but when he smiled at her, it felt like another milestone. They’d survived. They’d both rebuilt their lives.
Without losing Dalton, she’d never have shoved a desperately sick Reid in a cab and taken him home, to his palatial, had to be a drug dealer, had no furniture apartment. Never have been Reid’s first for all the rites of adulthood he’d denied himself. Never have fallen in love with him. Never won a business loan, or had the courage to take on the relaunch of Lucky’s.
“You came.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it. Can I hug you?”
She stepped into his space and he bear-hugged her boisterously off her feet. Everything Dalton did was done with enthusiasm, including the way he flushed to his ears when he realized he’d been a little overzealous.
He put her down and took in the room. “Damn impressive, this place. You did good.”
“It’s not all me. I have a business partner.”
“Last time I saw you, Zar, we were both in a bad place. Means a lot to me to know you’re doing so well.”
“And you?” He deserved to be happy, after them, after his tour of duty, the landmine and losing his foot.
“I’m doing okay. The farm is mine now. Dad retired. I’m happy.”
“Anyone helping you be happy?” she fished.
He shook his head. “You know what Nice is like. Lake County, small town nowhere. Lotta people want to set me up, but there’s no one I’m interested in.” Hearing him say that made her sad for him. He never wanted to join up, he’d never wanted to leave Nice. He’d wanted her and a family and they’d been too young to handle the consequences of all that.
“Your man here?”
She looked around for Reid and spotted him standing with his mom and Plus chairman Adnan Kuchnitski and his wife, ignoring them and trying to evaporate Dalton with his laser-beam eyes. Probably not the time to introduce them. And since she spotted her own mom, standing nervously alone with a champagne cocktail, which she no doubt had wanted to refuse but was too embarrassed to, she had better uses for Dalton. She took his arm, and together they greeted Mom.
“Zarley, you look beautiful and this place, it’s unbelievable.”
Mom wore the dress Zarley had sent her. Formal enough she’d not feel out of place, but not too over the top to wear to church. “You look beautiful too, Momma.” She motioned to a waitress and switched out Mom’s cocktail for OJ. “Thank you for coming.”
“Your dad, he—”
She hugged Mom, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume making Zarley squeeze tight. “Don’t worry about him. I’m glad you’re here.” She pulled away before regret at how infrequently they saw each other hooked too deep.
“And Dalton, you do clean up nice,” Mom said.
Dalton buzzed her cheek. “Thank you, Tricia. Mind you tell my mom when you see her next.”
She left them then, knowing Dalton would look out for Mom, and instructed a hostess to discreetly remove the place name laid for her father, replacing it with Kathryn’s, and wondering if seating the gorgeous ex-pole dancer turned chiropractor next to
the peach farmer from Nice could possibly light a spark.
She had good use for a groom as well, but there was no sign of Dev, or Owen who was arriving with him. Dev’s parents were here, his sister Rani, and his friend Shush and her parents. Owen’s sister Brooke was here and a pile of people from Plus Cara knew, but no Owen and importantly, no Dev.
She made for Reid, who stood with Sarina’s parents, and motioned him aside. “Have you seen Dev?” He should definitely be here by now.
Reid wouldn’t look at her, eyes flitting over the full room. “Your dad didn’t show.”
“I told you I don’t care about him.” She touched his chest, there was something more than anger with her father affecting him. “You cannot possibly be jealous of Dalton.”
He pushed out a noisy sigh. “You loved him. He still loves you. The way he looks at you.” Reid scowled. He would’ve seen the hug. “Could smack the guy. Never been jealous of anything in your past. Knew it was what made you who you are, but seeing him look at you like you were the one thing he’d do anything to get back,” he shook his head, and finally made eye contact, “I know what that feels like. It burns.”
She moved her hand from his chest to his face. “I did love him. I still do, but it’s not the same as what I feel for you.” She’d have married Dalton, big white dress and veil, bouquet, church, pastor, bad organ music, rice confetti, doves, cheap honeymoon, the whole drama. It’s what you did in Nice. She felt so differently about that idea now. It was a fairy tale that belonged to a younger girl who’d wanted a different life.
Reid took her hand, brought it to his lips for a kiss. “I know it, but it’s still a kicker.”
And she still had Sarina and Dev’s version of the fairy tale to stage-manage. “Can you find Dev for me?”
He pulled his phone out, a blue message light flashing, and turned the screen so she could see a text from Dev: Gita’s dead. Grrr. Getting jumpstart. Don’t start without me. It was sent fifteen minutes ago. So Dev wasn’t a runaway groom; he was a groom with a mechanical hitch. It was a relief, but Reid wasn’t smiling.
She’d make sure he knew where he stood with her tonight. She turned to go, but he kept her hand.
“I love you,” he said, trying his hardest not to sulk about Dalton, to be angry about Dad’s no-show. “You’re hard coded in my head and you own the program to my body.”
“I love you right back. I’m planning on spending my life with you.”
That got a grudging smile out of him. “I won’t hurt him.” But he was going to introduce himself and she shouldn’t have watched him move across the room. Watched him greet Mom, who he made anxious. Watched Dalton stand and offer a hand and the two of them size each other up, with meaty handshakes and hard stares. She was so engrossed, she yelped when Owen touched her arm.
“We’re here,” he said. He followed her eyeline. “Need me to run interference there?”
“No.” Both men might have resentful thoughts, but Mom had stopped looking like she’s rather be on a Greyhound bus home than sitting beside Dalton, and Kathryn had it all under control, sending Zarley a pantomimed whistle blow, well aware she was the referee in a potential showdown. A good event planner prepares for every event. Briefing Kathryn had paid off.
She turned back to Owen, but he’d already lost interest in Reid and was scanning the room for Cara. “She’s upstairs with Sarina. She’s done the most incredible job with all of our clothing, designing the uniforms, and making Sarina’s dress.”
He frowned. “I made it hard for her this week. Did she say anything?”
Cara had stomped around and cursed at being a woman, at tough decisions, unfair expectations, female timelines and competing desires—at life. “It’s been an interesting week.” It was the most diplomatic thing she could say.
“Would you tell me if I was in trouble with her?”
Affecting to see Reid’s confidence challenged and odd to see the normally poised Owen so ill at ease. Wedding fever had bitten them all hard.
She held her hand out. “Come on, let’s go see the bride.”
TEN
Sarina
“Finally my chief bride’s man decides to show,” Sarina said, when Owen walked in to Cara’s studio with Zarley.
“I prefer chief bride’s squire,” he said, stopped in front of her. “I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “Car trouble. But we made it. Dev is downstairs being mobbed by his family and yours. You look incredible.”
She looked down at herself. The dress was a miracle of elegance without being too bride or too stiffly formal, and she’d only managed to get tangled in the lace of the bell sleeves once. “I do, don’t I.” They both looked at Cara who blushed.
“Can I touch?” he asked, glance bouncing between the two of them for permission. Cara nodded and Owen put his hands on Sarina’s shoulders. “I don’t have the words to tell you how happy I am for you and Dev. He’s walking two foot off the floor and you look so ready for this. This is joy.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and whispered in her ear. “I hope it rubs off on all of us.”
She put her hand to Owen’s smooth cheek. Every emotion her body had ever memorized was stacked inside her body like a Jenga tower. Anticipation packed on excitement, layered on top of curiosity and pride. The jitters, adjacent to the giddy need to laugh, propped up by delight and ecstatic expectation. There was fear there too, crowded in with distress, sorrow, strain, and indecision, those hard feelings contained by the solid blocks of acceptance, contentment, optimism and hope. But if Owen added one more block to her tower, he might topple it over and make her cry. She’d be devastated if he and Cara didn’t make it.
Ro broke the tension saying the word, “Buttonhole,” and Owen stepped back, allowing Cara to pin a cheery yellow-centered daisy like the ones studded in Sarina’s updo to his lapel.
“You’re a very handsome bride’s squire,” Cara said and only got her hands out of the way before Owen folded her into his chest, while bringing her face up with a finger so he could see under the brim of her hat.
They were clearly having a moment.
“Weddings,” said Ro, shaking her head. “Emotional wreckage in a can.”
That about covered it. “That better not be a line from your script.”
“Trust me,” said Ro. She waited a beat then gave an evil cackle, which suited the glamorous tuxedo and silver sequined gym boots she wore, and the fact Sarina had no idea what she was going to say. When they all glared at her, Ro backed up a step and said, “No, really, you can trust me, I’ve got this celebrant thing.”
“We’re about to find out. It’s time,” said Zarley, motioning to Ro. “I’ll be back to get you when we have everyone in place.”
“I’ll see you downstairs,” Cara said, moving to follow Zarley and Ro, but Sarina waved a hand to stop her. She wanted to give Cara and Owen an extra minute to themselves because whatever was in that aching interchange between them had put a shadow in Owen’s eyes.
“I have to pee. Can you stay and make sure I don’t tuck my dress into my pants?”
“Owen can . . .” Cara smiled. “Of course. I’ll give you a few minutes.”
She didn’t need to pee. She’d peed about twelve times more than necessary already, but she went next door to Zarley’s office to pretend to use her bathroom, leaving Cara and Owen together, and taking one last chance to center herself.
This was it. The end of her single life. One completed Jenga tower and another about to begin. The one where she was formally partnered with Dev. There was nothing she didn’t like about that. No regret, no fear. The only anxiety was making it down the stairs without tripping on the small lace train on her dress. She couldn’t wait to see Dev, though it’d only been a few hours since she pushed him out the door. He’d been there when she woke to hand her a glass of water, put paste on her toothbrush, and spoon sorbet in a bowl. He’d wanted her opinion on buying a new house, something suitable for two new families to start in. Big enough the Patels and the Gallos
didn’t get in each other’s way, small enough to come together when it made sense.
Her opinion had been instant watering eyes because family and commitment were important to her man, followed by sweet, sweet kisses that’d worked like magic tonic to settling her stomach and were an appetizer for the rest of the night.
“Were you really peeing again?” Cara said, coming into the room.
“No. I wanted a minute to myself. Are you okay?”
Cara flapped a hand. “Me, of course.”
“You and Owen?”
Cara moved around her, ostensibly checking over the dress and adjusting a daisy in Sarina’s hair, but in practice, avoiding the question. “We’re focused on you today.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help.” Sarina let the rest go unsaid, as Cara stopped in front of her.
“Please don’t worry about Owen and me. Worry about getting through your vows.”
“Bride’s privilege. Besides, I get to worry about Dev, Reid and Owen professionally. It’s my thing.”
Cara pressed her lips together, and along with the look on Owen’s face, it didn’t take much to leap to the conclusion that their relationship was hurting. “You can’t break up on my wedding day.”
“I don’t want to break up with him, but—”
“We’re ready for you, Sarina,” said Zarley from the doorway, and a blink later, Owen walked into the room.
“Come and make Dev the happiest human being on the planet, aside from you,” he said, offering his arm.
She took Owen’s arm and looked for Cara, but she’d disappeared. “I’m the Bridezilla, I want everyone to be happy today.” And if the guests didn’t like the informality of the occasion, the fact she wasn’t carrying flowers or there wasn’t going to be a bunch of speeches then they could complain to someone who gave a damn.
“Yeah,” he said with a jumped eyebrow. “You’ve always led by example. Let’s see how you do it now.”
She started with not falling down the stairs and then not laughing hysterically at Ro’s diabolical grin, or losing it altogether when, with her handsome friend and partner preceding her, she crossed the middle of the room to stand in front of Ro and a table laden with fragrant white flowers, by Dev’s side.
Shotgun Wedding (Sidelined #4) Page 9
