“Oh? Shall I connect you—”
“No, sorry. Ignore what I said. I dozed off and I have a headache. Are you Miss Arlotta’s assistant?”
“Who?”
Alexis blinked. “Never mind. Trellises, right? You mentioned that there were two?”
“Uh huh?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Alexis blindly cradled the phone. The handset clattered to the nightstand and she very carefully and very deliberately picked it up and placed it in the fancy golden holder.
What a dream. But so vivid and so real. And all Dylan’s fault, of course.
The whole hooker thing just irritated her. Pre-nups were the smart thing to have these days, and Dylan with all his questions and innuendoes knew it. Why was he trying to make her think she was doing something wrong? He made his living writing pre-nups, for goodness’ sake!
Alexis got her coat and took the stairs down in hopes that the exercise would clear her brain. Walking across the lobby, she paused at the historical parlor. Ignoring the furniture and framed clothing, she headed toward the large sepia-toned picture over the red-velvet chaise.
They were all there, just as they’d been in the attic. Well, not just as they’d been. In this picture, the women were dressed in fancy white or pastel street clothes and it appeared to have been taken outside next to the falls. Still, Alexis recognized Miss Arlotta—and there was a smiling Sunshine. Wow. She didn’t remember studying the picture long enough to dream about the women in such detail.
Shaking her head—not a good idea—she made her way past the ballroom to the gardens outside.
“Tracy?”
A young blonde was directing two workmen to set up a trellis. “Ms. O’Hara?” She smiled in a way that reminded Alexis of Sunshine. In a way that made Alexis feel old.
“Call me Alexis. I apologize for keeping you waiting.”
“No prob, you know? I went ahead and picked this trellis? You mentioned that you wanted understated and elegant and the other one is more elaborate?”
But Alexis had noticed a gazebo off to the side. “What about the gazebo? It looks like the perfect spot.”
“The other bride chose a trellis,” Tracy said firmly, making her first statement.
“Is there a rule against using the gazebo?”
“Flowers were ordered for a trellis?”
“Oh. Couldn’t they just be…moved?”
Tracy flipped open her cell phone. “Yeah, it’s Tracy at the Inn? Can you do the gazebo Sunday? I know. I know. I know.” She covered the mouthpiece. “The florist already started making the garlands for the trellis? The netting won’t stretch?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the netting—I’m not that fond of netting, so let’s take this opportunity to cut it out. We’re going for elegant simplicity.”
“What?” Tracy said into the phone. “The netting? There aren’t enough flowers?”
“Whatever she’s got—”
Tracy held up her hand. “You’ve got a lot of greenery you can use?”
“Greenery sounds great.”
“She can try to get more flowers, but no promises?” Tracy looked at Alexis accusingly. “You did agree to no changes?”
“I didn’t think this was that much of a change? But as long as we’re talking about changes, how about adding a deep purple accent to pep up the lilac?” Stop it. Stop it. “Maybe go a little easier on some of the sparkly silver ribbon. I mean, as long as we’re making a few adjustments.”
“Did you hear that?” Tracy said into the phone. She narrowed her eyes at Alexis. “It’ll be an extra charge?”
Oh, was that all. “I’m fine with that.”
“Go for it.” Tracy closed her phone.
“The gazebo seems more intimate,” Alexis explained, but Tracy was jogging off to talk to the workmen. Alexis watched Tracy gesture her way, then she and the men glared at her.
For a hotel with a fabulous reputation, the customer service was sorely lacking.
“How’s it going?” Sunshine called to her from a side doorway leading to the gardens. She gestured with a cup of hot tea. “You’ll have to come get it. We’re not allowed outside.”
“Oh, thank you!” Alexis stared at her as she approached. “You’re real?”
Sunshine eyed her warily. “Define real.”
“Very funny. I fell asleep, right?”
Sunshine bounced her curls in affirmation.
“I had the strangest dream.” Alexis sipped her tea. It was sugared and she didn’t usually go for sugar, but it was just what she wanted right then.
“You’ve cut out a lot of wedding fanciness,” Sunshine said. “You know they’re going to charge you anyway.”
“I don’t care. My wedding is smaller and needs to be scaled down.”
“Don’t scale down too much. You want the groom to know he’s getting married!” Sunshine giggled.
Tracy was waving to get her attention. “They’ll have to rewire the sound system?” she called. “Overtime?”
“I understand.”
Tracy gave the men a thumbs-up before rejoining Alexis.
“I don’t understand why most brides don’t use the gazebo.” Alexis turned to include Sunshine, but the girl had vanished back into the hotel. It was so sweet of her to bring the tea, though.
“The gazebo weddings are a higher-priced package?”
“Because of the extra flowers?” Alexis guessed.
Tracy nodded. “And extension cords, you know? They have to be hidden and secured, ’cause people might trip over them?”
“I’ll try not to make any more changes.”
Nodding, Tracy consulted her PDA. “Okay, so where’s the groom? Vincent Cathy?”
“Cathardy.”
“Oh? Where is he?”
“He’s leaving all the arrangements to me.” As she explained, Sunshine’s words about not scaling down too much came back to her. Okay, fine. But the karaoke machine for the reception was still out. She’d splurge on really fine wine, instead. The hotel had a renowned wine cellar.
“We’re supposed to be running through the ceremony?”
“Are we?”
“I think it’s a good idea? The minister is going to be here at five o’clock?”
Just make a statement already, Alexis refrained from screaming. She called Vincent from her cell phone, but his line was busy. “I’ll go see where he is,” she told Tracy.
Alexis headed for the conference room by way of the lobby where afternoon tea was set up. She was putting her empty cup on a tray when the petits fours caught her eye. She took one of the delicate mouthful-size cakes, admiring the tiny pastel sugar flowers before popping the whole thing in her mouth.
Her tongue crushed the sweet icing shell and raspberry exploded in her mouth. She sighed.
Sugar was making her feel a whole lot better than the aspirin. These were good. She hoped the wedding cake tasted as good. Maybe just one more. Look, there were chocolate ones. She hadn’t noticed the chocolate cakes before. Were they as good? Only one way to find out. Her teeth sank into the cake. Ooh! They were tiny chocolate-covered cheesecakes. Yum. Was that…amaretto? She’d need to taste another one to make sure.
Just then Dylan caught her stuffing petits fours in her mouth like a five-year-old.
He grinned. “I didn’t remember you having a sweet tooth.”
Alexis swallowed stickily. “Well, there’s a lot you don’t remember.” Now she was thirsty. She took one of the china cups and filled it from a silver urn, leaving a chocolate thumbprint on the handle.
Casually, she wiped it off with one of the paper napkins and gulped down her tea. Burned her tongue, too.
“You eat when under stress?” Dylan asked.
“I eat when under hunger,” Alexis told him crossly.
“Are you hungry now?”
“Not so much.”
“Good. Then the petits fours will be safe when I tell you that Vincent is still hung up with that c
onference call.”
“We’re supposed to rehearse the ceremony.” She checked her watch, noted a stray icing smear and was forced to retrieve another paper napkin. “I was on my way to get him.”
“I see.”
With as much aplomb as she could muster, Alexis tossed the crumpled napkin in the slops bowl where it bounced out, rolled off the edge of the tablecloth and came to rest by her feet.
Hoping Dylan hadn’t noticed, she kicked at it and it stuck to her shoe. Of course it would.
Silently, Dylan knelt to pick up the napkin.
Sunshine appeared behind him and checked out the view. “Nice,” she said.
Alexis’s mouth dropped open—which didn’t stop her from looking—but Dylan acted as though he hadn’t heard Sunshine.
“Why doesn’t he rehearse with you?”
Had Sunshine made it her mission to eavesdrop on Alexis’s business? “He can’t rehearse with me!”
“What?” Dylan straightened and placed the napkin on the tray with the dirty cups and plates.
“You can’t rehearse with me.”
“You mean stand in for Vinnie?”
“Vincent.”
“Whatever.” He shoved a hand into his pocket and leaned against the door frame. “I don’t recall offering.”
“I didn’t ask!”
“You brought it up.”
“No! She…” Alexis gestured behind him where Sunshine had been standing ogling him moments before. “Anyway, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m sure you’re very busy.” Alexis chose her most quelling voice.
Dylan refused to be quelled. “I’m not doing anything just now.” He gave her a bland smile.
Bland smiles were the worst. They hid all manner of sneaky moves. “Vincent really should be the one to rehearse his own wedding.”
“Now, he’s busy. You should chat with him about prioritization. In the meantime, you’ve got me.”
“I don’t want you.”
The words hung in the air.
Dylan regarded her somberly. “Yeah, I figured that. Come on. One of you should know what you’re doing.”
This was a bad idea. Alexis didn’t know why yet; she nevertheless knew it was. “It’s not going to do any good for you to rehearse Vincent’s part.”
“Part,” Dylan scoffed as he took her arm and began leading her back to the garden. “The groom just stands there. You at least get to make an entrance.”
“Dylan…”
“Don’t be embarrassed. You need a favor. I’m happy to oblige.” He held her gaze. “Maybe someday I’ll need a favor.”
In debt to Dylan over something so trivial? Great. Alexis didn’t like that at all.
“Hey, is this the groom?” Tracy gave him a professional smile when they met her outside.
“Alas, no.” Dylan clasped both hands over his heart. “I’m only standing in. Hard as it is to believe, I’m still available.”
“Oh?” Tracy’s smile and body language warmed considerably.
Alexis’s did not. “Let’s rehearse. So where’s the minister?”
“Right here.” A woman about Alexis’s age waved from the porch. “Just admiring God’s handiwork.” She gestured to the Rockies and came down the steps toward them. “I’m Joanna Martin.”
Alexis couldn’t ever remember meeting a minister who wore stilettos before. But then, how many female ministers had she met? She introduced herself, then felt compelled to explain Dylan. “This is my…”
“Friend is okay,” Dylan inserted. “Fiancé’s lawyer sounds clunky.”
Alexis didn’t look at him. “He’s standing in for the groom.”
“Do we need to wait a few minutes?” the minister asked. “We can.”
“No. Vincent is on the telephone and will be a while. It’s an important client,” she felt compelled to add.
“It must be.” The Reverend Joanna Martin was good at bland smiles, too. “We do need to discuss the ceremony before we start.”
“The other bride didn’t have a religious preference?” Tracy asked.
“My church is nondenominational, but I can certainly flavor your ceremony any way you wish,” the minister said. “Up to a point,” she added with a smile. “Do you have a religious affiliation?”
“I’m a Methodist. Lapsed,” Alexis added for fairness.
“And Vincent?”
Alexis blinked. She didn’t know. Had absolutely no idea. “He’s…lapsed.”
“I can do lapsed.” Reverend Martin led the way to the gazebo.
“I’ve heard that’s a very popular religion,” Dylan said.
“Be quiet.”
And he was, but Alexis could still hear him thinking. She was losing the bubble, that dreamy, fuzzy mental state that had allowed her to plan a wedding and envision her new life without letting certain details get in the way. Details like not knowing Vincent’s religious preferences. Details she knew were there, but didn’t want to deal with right away. She knew a lot about Vincent, make no mistake. They’d spent long hours together. She’d seen him angry. She’d seen him when he wasn’t his best—and she’d been angry and not at her best around him, too. But she’d seen him looking powerful and attractive and charming and presumably, he felt she had a certain amount of attractiveness and charm, as well.
The thing was, all she had to do was gush about how much she loved him and giggle about how quickly it was happening and everyone would leave her alone and sigh and say how romantic it all was. But because she wasn’t lying, people were constantly trying to burst her bubble.
Especially Dylan. Look at him. Silent as a reluctant witness, all he had to do was look at her the way he was looking at her now—with his eyebrow raised ever so slightly—and she could feel her bubble burst.
WELL, HELL. YES, HELL. Hell was standing here next to Alexis in a wedding that wasn’t a wedding when he wasn’t a groom. Or rather the groom. Her groom. Alexis’s groom.
He’d been having groom thoughts. Not for long, but they were really strong groom thoughts. Dylan didn’t even know there was such a thing as groom thoughts. No guy had ever mentioned them in his hearing—not even the grooms he’d known.
He’d been thinking about Alexis ever since he’d seen her name on the pre-nup papers. Then he’d seen her in person and those thoughts weren’t groomlike in any way. Well, maybe in a honeymoon way. Definitely in a very specific, physical way.
He hadn’t expected to feel such lust for her. Out-of-control lust wasn’t really his thing. Controlled lust was great. To be desired even. He liked controlled lust. But this—this intense physical desire for Alexis was interfering with his work and his concentration. Making him act unwisely.
And then, and then he’d seen her eating those little cakes and he’d thought of wedding cake and feeding her wedding cake and, boom, groom thoughts.
Not good.
He hadn’t spoken to her in seven years but the way he was feeling, it might have been yesterday. No. The day before yesterday. The day before they’d had the big breakup. Before all the hurt feelings and the ugly accusations.
Dylan felt as though his life had rewound to that point and instead of telling her it was time to go their separate ways, he had asked her to marry him. And this was the way he would have felt.
Not fair. Especially now that she was marrying someone else.
Who, incidentally, didn’t deserve her. Not that Dylan deserved her, either, but he, at least, once had feelings for her. Apparently still did have feelings for her. Inconvenient feelings.
“The groom will stand here?” Tracy pulled him into place.
Tracy was cute and interested, and as the side of her body brushed his he felt nothing at all.
No, his feelings were reserved for the girl with the big eyes who was walking down the stone path toward him.
“We don’t have the sound system set up yet, so could you, like, hum?”
Dylan started humming. Loudly. Anything to distra
ct him from the vision of Alexis as bride. He added a little percussion by slapping his hand against his thigh.
“Dylan?” They were all looking at him, but it was the lady reverend who had spoken. “Maybe ‘Trumpet Voluntary’ and not Led Zeppelin?”
Hey. A lady reverend who recognized “Immigrant Song.”
“I don’t know ‘Trumpet Voluntary.”’
“Then how about a rousing chorus of good ole ‘Here Comes the Bride’?”
As if that would deflect any groom thoughts. But, he and Tracy and the reverend hummed and Alexis proceeded, holding an imaginary bouquet of flowers.
She looked luminous.
And right then, Dylan knew why all the newly married men of his acquaintance wore sappy smiles that turned into identical faintly amused ones whenever they were kidded about their lack of sexual freedom. They knew the secret. It was like being able to order off the menu at a great restaurant. Unlimited possibilities.
And Alexis was definitely off the menu.
“Will you have an attendant?” asked Reverend Martin.
“My sister,” Alexis answered.
“Is she here?”
“She and the rest of my family won’t be arriving until tomorrow.”
“And the groom’s attendant?”
“Yo,” Dylan said.
Alexis stared at him. “Yo? What is yo?”
“Yo means I’m the attendant. Vinnie’s best man.”
“You can’t be his best man! You don’t even know him.”
“He asked me.” Apparently none of Vincent’s male relatives could break away on such short notice. Dylan decided it was in the bride’s best interests that he keep that to himself. “Besides, I’ll waive my hourly fee. Call it a wedding present.”
Alexis stood there with her mouth open—and still managed to look attractive.
“Maybe we should—” the reverend began.
“No. Let’s get on with it.” Alexis took his arm and resolutely turned face forward.
“Very well.”
Dylan gave the reverend points for flexibility.
“At this point, I will say something about marriage in general and the family and friends who have traveled to witness…”
Alexis wouldn’t look at him and Dylan couldn’t stop looking at her. But he waited, knowing that at some point in the ceremony they would be facing one another.
Can't Buy Me Love Page 5
