By the time the cab arrived to pick up Sarah at the back door of the restaurant, all of the female waitstaff and even some of the patrons had come to check up on her, to applaud her actions and wish her well.
One very attractive, slightly older woman whose honey-blond hair was tied at her nape with a wide, black satin bow, stepped up to her and handed her a business card. “Hi, sweetie, I’m Margaret Shannon. And you are—?”
“S–Sarah,” she managed to stammer, lifting her eyes from the card as Margaret Shannon grabbed her hand and shook it with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Sarah. You just hired me to represent you in any legal action between you and Phillip Nugent.” As Sarah opened her mouth in astonishment, Margaret waved her hand. “No need to thank me. I once dated the bastard, so I know he deserved everything you just gave him out there.” She smiled. “Good work, by the way. I also know that he will be pissed as hell and planning some sort of revenge. He’s a coward and a bully at heart, so if he threatens you in any way, just mention my name and he’ll probably back off. If he persists, however, you just call me and I’ll slap a restraining order on him so fast it’ll make his head spin.”
Sarah sucked in a breath to say something, but the blond lawyer shook her head. “No, no, really, the pleasure’s all mine,” she said cheekily, looking Sarah up and down appraisingly. “You look like you’ve got money, so my fee will be appropriately high.” Margaret Shannon gave Sarah a wide, teasing grin. “That’s a joke, sweetie. This one’s on me. Now, as your attorney and your new BFF, I advise you to go straight to the penthouse, pack your things, and get the hell out of there before Daddy springs Junior from the hoosegow. I figure you’ve got less than an hour. I also advise you to take him for everything he’s got. Especially since, from the sound of it, a million of it most likely belongs to you anyway.” She winked. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
She took Sarah’s hand again and this time she held on to it. “Find a cheap motel, pay cash, and call me when you get there so I’ll know you’re okay. My cell number’s on the card. We’ll meet right here tomorrow night at eight o’clock. For our first official attorney-client consultation,” she added at Sarah’s puzzled look. “Since you decided to be a drama queen before you were even served your food, you deserve a second chance at the best lasagna this side of Italy.” She glanced over at Mama Bella, whose anger had dissipated and who was now beaming at Sarah and Margaret Shannon. “Will you have a table for us, Mama Bella?”
“Oh, si, si,” the plump woman nodded vigorously. “Always there is a table here for you, Signorina Margherita.”
After making Sarah promise that she would actually show up the following night, the dynamo that was Margaret Shannon left, and the room seemed to deflate, as if she’d taken all the energy with her. Mama Bella gave Sarah another smothering hug and urged her to come back often, promising her free meals for life.
Then it was time to say good-bye to Cassie O’Rourke. When Sarah tried to thank the redheaded waitress for all her help, emotion overwhelmed her and she burst into a fresh spate of tears. Laughing and dabbing at her eyes with a wad of toilet paper, she returned Cassie’s hug and the two women arranged to meet for lunch at the Green Dragon pub the very next day. Which they did. After Sarah had spent the entire morning maxing out Phillip’s credit cards on an entire new wardrobe—one that was youthful and stylish and full of bright colors—the polar opposite of the somber, matronly, too-large outfits he’d been forcing her to wear.
And after she’d left a message on her father’s voicemail, telling him she never wanted to see or hear from him again.
Thanks to Phillip Nugent, Sarah had found two new friends, Margaret and Cassie. She had also found a family. Cassie’s big, boisterous, Irish-Catholic family immediately took Sarah under their collective wing, treating her like one of their own, even though they laughingly called her “the heretic,” since she was technically Presbyterian.
Two weeks after the appalling scene in the restaurant, Phillip had showed up at her new apartment, drunk and belligerent and demanding loudly through the door that she let him in so they could “talk”. She hadn’t dialed 9-1-1. Instead she’d called Bert and Ned O’Rourke, two of Cassie’s older brothers, who also happened to be undercover narcotics cops.
They had arrived within minutes, all hard-eyed and menacing, and quietly escorted Phillip away. They never told Sarah what they’d said or done to him, but she never saw or heard from Phillip Nugent again until last month, when he’d come to Virginia to force her into marrying him so he could use her money to pay off the investors he’d fleeced out of five million bucks.
One week after Phillip’s ill-fated visit to her apartment, her father had died. To Sarah’s utter shock, in spite of all his threats to cut her out of his will, he’d left her his entire fortune.
Over the next year, while she finished law school, the O’Rourkes invited both her and Maggie to join in all their family get-togethers, including holidays, birthdays, hockey games, and Sunday potluck dinners. They taught her how to ice skate and play hockey and pool. Cassie’s mother, Maeve O’Rourke, sensing Sarah’s deep isolation and fragile spirit, gave her lots of motherly hugs and love, becoming the mother that Sarah had never had growing up, since her own mother had died when she was eight. And she had blossomed under Maeve’s solicitude and concern. That love, combined with the professional counseling she’d sought, had pulled her up out of the abyss she’d fallen into at Phillip’s perfidy.
She also treasured her friendship with Margaret Shannon, the two women meeting often for dinner at one of Boston’s many fine restaurants. They had season tickets to the Boston Symphony and the Boston Ballet. Both Maggie and the entire O’Rourke family, fifty-seven-strong, from Cassie’s grandparents, through aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, down to the newest arrival, little six-day-old Liam, attended Sarah’s graduation from Harvard Law School. When Sarah had approached the podium to deliver her valedictory speech, they cheered, whistled, waved, and carried on until the entire audience joined in. No real family could have been prouder.
* * * *
Blinking her eyes, Sarah realized belatedly that their drinks had arrived and Cassie had finished speaking. Everyone was looking at her. “Hey, sweet pea,” Adam said softly, resting his hand on her thigh, its warmth sinking into her skin, “where’d you go? You okay?”
She gave everyone a sheepish grin. “Yeah. I was kind of…in the moment, as they say. Sorry.”
Both Adam and Jesse leaned in to give Sarah a kiss on each cheek. “You should’ve told us, sugar,” Jesse said, taking her hand and placing it on his thigh before covering it with his. “Although, it’s probably better that you didn’t. If I’d known this a month ago, I would’ve just gone ahead and killed the fucker instead of arrestin’ him. Bastard doesn’t deserve to live.”
Maggie reached across the table and patted Sarah’s other hand. “Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You got the last laugh. Phillip’s in prison and you are loved and cherished by not one, but two kick-ass, alpha-male, domineering—”
“Sexy,” Jesse supplied.
“Super-sexy—”
“Bossy,” Sarah supplied, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“Bossy men,” Maggie finished, flashing a smirk in Jesse’s direction. “I’ve never seen you look so happy. How does it get any better than that?”
Sarah relaxed, giving Maggie a brilliant smile. “You’re right, Mags, it doesn’t. And I look happy because I am happy. Jesse came back to me—something I never dared dream would happen—and he brought Adam with him, fulfilling dreams I never even knew I had. I just hope the two of you find the same joy in your lives that these two men have brought to mine.” Her eyes stung, but luckily the waitress arrived with their food, sparing her the indignity of bursting into tears. By the time they’d all been served, the moment had passed and she dug into the delicious crab cake she didn’t even remember ordering. The conversation turned to more general topics, and by the e
nd of the meal, they were all relaxed and laughing.
Maggie reached out to grab the check, but a quelling look from Jesse had her drawing back her hand. “I see what you mean,” she murmured as they were getting back into the car. “Definitely bossy.”
Sarah giggled. “Oh, God, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Does he bite?”
“Um…”Sarah’s cheeks flamed, and it was Cassie and Maggie’s turn to giggle.
Jesse ahemed loudly. “If you ladies are finished assassinatin’ my character, may I ask where we’re goin’?”
“Oh, right. We’re meeting Lisa and Heather in an hour at the bridal salon in Williamsburg.” Sarah gave him the name and address of the store, watching him enter it into his Onstar before merging onto I-64 and heading east.
Lisa and Heather were already there when Jesse finally pulled into a parking spot right in front of the historic old building that housed the salon. For the next three hours the five women bonded over a veritable flurry of gorgeous gowns and dresses. Although, initially, Lisa’s goth looks drew a few stares and more than one raised eyebrow from the shop’s other patrons, she was still a giggly girl at heart and threw herself wholeheartedly into the spirit of the occasion. Despite their widely disparate backgrounds, the women found they had a lot in common, not the least of which was their love and admiration for Sarah Marshall.
Adam and Jesse stood back, arms folded across their chests, watching the goings-on in mild amusement. The first four gowns Sarah tried on and modeled for them were lovely, but nothing special in their opinion. Not nearly special enough for the love of their life, although they assured her she looked spectacular in each one. It wasn’t until she walked slowly out of the dressing room wearing the fifth gown that their hearts plummeted to the floor before jerking back up and spinning like yo-yos. As soon as they saw the beatific smile on her face, they knew she’d found the gown of her dreams. It was a strapless, close-fitting, ivory peau de soie that hugged all her curves before flaring slightly below the hips to fall gracefully to the floor. It was beaded all over in a simple, subtle pattern of vines and flowers. Instead of a veil she wore a coronet of silk freesias, orange blossoms, stephanotis, and daisies, Sarah’s favorite flower.
Not that Jesse and Adam knew any of that. Nor did they care. All they cared about was that she looked so exquisite, so elegant, so ethereal standing there looking up at them hesitantly, neither man could control the emotions tightening their chests, nor the sting of sudden tears in their eyes.
Fighting the lump in his throat, Jesse dropped his arms and strode over to her, pulling her gently, almost reverently into his arms. “God, sugar, I love you so much. I’ve never seen anythin’ more beautiful in my life than you in this dress. I can’t wait to see you walkin’ down the aisle toward me,” he whispered. Lifting a hand to wipe the tear from her cheek with his thumb, he threaded his fingers through her hair and palmed the side of her face. After staring at her for what seemed like forever, he lowered his head, barely touching his lips to hers in a kiss that sank deep into her soul, robbing her of her ability to think. A kiss that went on and on, holding everyone else in the salon in thrall, as if a binding spell had been cast upon them.
When he finally lifted his head, the room seemed to sigh as he stepped aside to let Adam take his place. His kiss was just as reverent, just as arousing, just as adoring as Jesse’s, and as it lengthened, one of the bridal consultants, whose name tag said Debbie, poked her elbow into Maggie’s side. “Where do I get me one of those?” she asked out of the side of her mouth.
“Wish I knew,” Maggie replied.
“So, which one is she marrying?” the other consultant whispered curiously, neither of them taking their eyes off of the kissing couple, both pairs of eyes widening as Jesse stepped up behind Sarah and put his arms around her, sandwiching her between them.
A chorus of feminine “Oo-o-o-hs ” soughed around the room.
“Both.”
“Well, that’s hardly fair.” Debbie said, sounding a bit miffed.
Maggie grimaced. “Tell me about it.”
Finally, Adam raised his head and grinned down at the lovely woman looking at him with a dazed expression. Her lips were kiss-swollen and slightly parted as her breaths came in short, trembling sighs. Applause broke out all around the salon, along with a few wolf whistles. “We seem to be attracting attention, sweet pea,” Adam said, lifting his head to glance around the room.
“Huh?” It was all she was capable of. Her ability to form words into sentences, something she had excelled at not twenty minutes earlier, seemed to have deserted her.
Adam laughed and both men released her. “Looks like you’ve found your weddin’ gown, baby,” Jesse said.
“You really like it?” she asked, although she knew the answer. She’d known the minute she’d seen the looks on their faces as she’d walked toward them wearing this gown. She was just fishing for compliments. A gal could never get too many compliments.
“The only thing we’ll like better than seein’ you in that dress on our weddin’ day,” Jesse murmured softly, “is takin’ you out of it on our weddin’ night.”
“Another thing to look forward to,” Adam added with a wicked grin.
After Sarah was fitted for minor alterations, she reluctantly relinquished the beautiful gown and put her strawberry-pink sundress back on. Then she went out to help her four bridesmaids find their dresses. They ended up all choosing the same short, strapless silk cocktail dress, each one in a different color—a deep raspberry for Lisa with her black hair, bright green for redheaded Cassie, sapphire blue for Maggie, and a rich violet for Heather, a color which complimented her brown hair and made her peaches-and-cream complexion glow.
Heather’s was the only one that had to be altered, so the others carried theirs with them out to the cars. As Lisa and Heather hugged the others good-bye, they all confirmed their reservations at the spa the next morning.
Dinner that night was a festive affair. After a series of champagne toasts, Jesse grilled steaks, which they had with Adam’s potatoes au-gratin and asparagus tips sautéed in garlic butter. They washed everything down with several bottles of merlot. The meal was followed by a mountainous dessert—a chocolate chocolate-chip cake with chocolate fudge frosting drizzled with chocolate ganache and topped off with chocolate curls. It was a specialty of Lisa’s bakery, Cakes R Us. After the first bite the women were groaning in ecstasy. After the fifth or sixth bite, they were groaning in disbelief at how freaking rich it was. After the eighth or ninth bite, they were groaning in defeat.
“Sorry, Sarah,” Maggie mumbled, letting her fork clatter to her plate, “there’s no way I can finish this. It’s just too rich. Lisa should market this as a weapon.”
“She does,” Sarah replied smugly.
“Huh?”
“She calls it ‘Chocolate Death.’”
“It’s delicious,” Cassie weighed in, polishing off her piece and reaching for Maggie’s plate to finish the remainder of hers.
“I hate you, you know,” Maggie said, giving her friend a baleful glare. “How do you eat so much and stay so skinny?”
“Good, clean living,” Cassie said, sticking her fork upside down in her mouth and sucking it clean as she eyed Sarah’s unfinished piece of cake. “You gonna eat that?”
Laughing, Sarah pushed her plate toward Cassie.
“You’re not human,” Maggie said, getting up from her chair with an inelegant, “Ooof.”
“Where you going?” Cassie asked around a forkful of cake.
“Down to the basement to check for pods.” She looked at Sarah. “Where’s the basement, sweetie?”
Sarah just laughed. “Down the hall, first door on the left.”
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, I want Il Divo to sing at my memorial service. God, they’re so hot. Too bad I’ll be dead.”
As Maggie left, staggering only slightly, Adam and Jesse just shook their heads in amusement. After all, they’d
had no difficulty with Lisa’s decadent dessert, practically inhaling their enormous slices before going back for seconds. After Maggie returned, they all adjourned to the great room. Jesse built a fire in the fireplace, even though it was the end of June and so warm he had to keep the air conditioner running so they wouldn’t die of heat stroke. But the fire netted him six thumbs up and three kisses from the women, two on the cheek and a lingering one on the mouth, so it was definitely worth it. Around eleven, Maggie could barely keep her eyes open, so they decided to call it a night.
“We have a guest suite, which has a super king size bed and a large en suite bathroom,” Sarah explained as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs. “That’s where Adam put your luggage. But we also have two other, slightly smaller guest bedrooms that share a bathroom between them. Maggie, I know you and Cassie have often shared Cassie’s double bed when we’ve stayed overnight at the O’Rourke’s house for whatever celebration we were attending—or for excessive inebriation, whichever came first—so we figured you wouldn’t have a problem sharing a bed the size of Kansas City. However, you’re welcome to pick any bedroom you want, so duke it out between yourselves.”
She paused before turning to go to their own bedroom up the remainder of the stairs to the left. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, giving each of her friends a tight hug. “I miss you so much. Thanks for coming.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Cassie assured her. “We weren’t sure how this arrangement could possibly work out, but we can see that Jesse and Adam both absolutely adore you, and we’re so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me, too,” Sarah agreed. “Sleep well, you two. See you in the morning.”
Owning Sarah [Sequel to Loving Sarah] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 16
