S'more to Lose

by Beth Merlin

  I felt a lump rise in my throat. Hearing Perry talk about our years of struggling to make something of ourselves reminded me just how intertwined our pasts were. He wasn’t just some ex-boyfriend of mine. He was the man I’d been planning to marry. Our ceremony wouldn’t have been anywhere near as grand as the one we just witnessed, but the vows and promises we’d intended to make to one another would’ve been no different. I’d been ready to commit to Perry—to love, honor, comfort, and keep him. That is, until his actions forced me to let him go.

  I turned to look at him. “I guess they’d be happy to know we both got everything we ever wanted.”

  “Did we?” he asked.

  Gemma walked over and tapped Perry on the shoulder. “Perry, the family car’s waiting for you,” she said.

  “Give me a moment, I’m just congratulating Gigi on her triumph.”

  “No, you should go. We’re done,” I said, retreating into the crowd that’d gathered on the sidewalk.

  “Gigi,” Perry called out after me, but I refused to look back.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A few hours later, Victoria was dressed in a strapless white satin and organza evening dress with a circle skirt and the same colored jeweled details from the wedding gown around its waist. After the grandeur of the morning, Jamie and I had agreed the reception dress should be more refined, emphasizing Victoria’s classic beauty and style. It was simple but stunning.

  Victoria’s glam squad returned, working to transform her wedding day look into a glamorous evening one. They darkened her eye makeup and slicked her hair into a neat chignon. She looked right off the runway. She completed the look with open-toe gold Louboutins that gave her another unnecessary few inches in height.

  “You should be all set.” I stepped away from Victoria to look her up and down. “The hem’s perfect and the fit—sublime.”

  “Thank you so much. Really. I don’t know how you and Jamie managed to capture everything I wanted in these looks, but I’ve never felt more special or beautiful. Speaking of Jamie, any word from him yet?”

  I looked down at my phone. “Nothing yet.”

  “Let me know when you hear anything.”

  Gemma poked her head into the room and let Victoria know she was needed for photos at the palace.

  “As a thank you, I asked if my stylists could stay a bit longer and get you ready. I know I haven’t left you with much time for yourself,” Victoria said.

  “That’s very generous of you. Are you sure?”

  “My pleasure. Didn’t you say Gideon will be here at seven? You don’t have a lot of time.” She turned to her glam squad. “Boys, give this one the works. She deserves it.”

  Victoria left with Gemma as I sat down in front of the mirror. The hairstylist got to work pinning my hair into rollers while the senior makeup artist asked me what I was wearing to the reception. I described the metallic silk Valentino gown with its floral appliques and then remembered I had a picture of it on my phone. I pulled it out to show him and saw a missed call from Jamie and a text, which I quickly opened.

  Welcome to the world Oliver Malone Beckett 5lbs 9 oz. and Clara Malone Beckett 6 lbs. 2 oz.

  I squealed and jumped up from the chair.

  “I have to make one quick call. I’ll be right back,” I said.

  “How’s the proud papa?” I asked as soon as Jamie picked up.

  “When I saw the reviews of the wedding dress coming in on the flight I thought nothing could possibly top that moment, but the minute I held my children nothing else in the world mattered.”

  “Your children. Oh Jamie,” I said, tearing up myself. “Everyone’s okay? The babies are doing well?”

  “They’re perfect. Just perfect.”

  “And Thom?”

  “Busy taking a million pictures. He’ll send some over to you soon. What time is it there? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the reception?”

  “It’s six. Victoria just left for the palace. Gideon’s picking me up in about an hour.”

  “So, we did pretty good today, partner?” he said.

  I rubbed my hand over my heart. “We sure did.”

  “I have to go, Gi. Thom’s parents just got to the hospital. Take copious mental notes on the party but more importantly the after party. I want all the dish,” he said before hanging up.

  I looked back down at my phone. Thom sent a text with about a dozen pictures of the twins. Jamie was right. They were absolutely perfect from their tufts of blonde hair right down to the small dimple each of them had in their right cheek.

  I sat back down in the chair and apologized to the stylists. I scrolled to the picture of me in the Valentino gown Jamie’d snapped at the vintage store and showed it to the makeup artist.

  “We should do a more natural eye but a bold red lip. Toni, are you thinking finger waves?” he asked the hairstylist.

  “Totally,” Toni answered. “This dress has a real 20s feel. Very old New York. I’m picturing a smoky club with jazz standards playing. Let’s go for it.”

  I smiled. “Do I have any say in this?”

  “No.” They both answered in unison.

  I leaned back into the chair and let the team work their magic.

  Forty-five minutes later, Gideon knocked on the hotel room door. The glam squad let him in while I finished dressing in the bathroom. It was a good thing I hadn’t had time to eat much all week. The dress closed within an inch of my life. I inhaled a few times to make sure I could breathe in it. Not well, but it’d have to do. I thought of Jamie’s fashion mantra, “Style before a smile.” You didn’t have to be happy or comfortable in a couture gown as long as it looked fabulous. Gideon would have to be the judge.

  I stepped out of the bathroom and did a full turn in front of him. “What do you think?”

  “Forget whatever the Queen is wearing tonight, I’ll be the one with the crown jewels on my arm.”

  I picked up my clutch from the nightstand. “That’s a good line. How long have you been working on it?”

  “Came up with it in the car on the way over.” He stood to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  I laughed. “You look incredible. That tuxedo’s amazing.”

  Gideon smoothed out the jacket lapels. “My new stylist helped me pick it out.”

  “Jamie?”

  Gideon nodded and I leaned over to straighten his bow tie. “There. Now you’re perfect.”

  “If you say so,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh, I say so.”

  “We should get going if you want to see the bagpipers,” he said, taking my arm.

  The car drove through the crowds who’d gathered along the sidewalks and footways to catch a glimpse the royal reception guests. When we pulled up to the gates of Buckingham Palace, Gideon gave his name to a palace guard who let us through. The driver was then directed to the porte-cochère where a butler was waiting to greet the guests and announce the arrivals. Gideon climbed out first and extended a hand to help me. The butler asked Gideon for his name or title and then proclaimed the entrance of “Viscount Satterley and Ms. Georgica Goldstein.”

  It felt like a dream. The courtyard was aglow with candles, and servers walked around with trays of vintage pink champagne and peach Bellinis. Bagpipers played traditional English music as more guests were announced into the space. I looked around, recognizing many of the same faces from the morning’s ceremony. Gideon pointed to the corner of the courtyard where his parents were standing with Linney.

  We slowly made our way over to them, stopping to speak with several of Gideon’s friends and acquaintances along the way. Gideon made a point of introducing me, not as his date but as the designer of Victoria’s wedding gown. As guest after guest gushed about how much they’d loved the dress, Gideon couldn’t conceal his pride and admiration.

  “When we walked in the butler should have announced us as ‘Georgica Goldstein, extraordinary designer and that schlub she let escort her,’” he said.

  “Schlub’s a
little bit harsh, isn’t it?” I teased.

  Gideon surveyed the courtyard. “I might just be the luckiest guy in this room.”

  “I think Prince Alexander would dare to challenge you on that one.”

  “It is his wedding day so I’ll let him take the title…just this once,” he said with a squeeze of my hand.

  After the cocktail hour, the guests were ushered toward dinner in the palace’s ballroom, complete with two huge thrones at one end of the room for Victoria and Alexander and a grand piano at the other. Gideon and I searched the seating chart and found our names at Table 22 along with the rest of his family and some of their close friends. I couldn’t help but glance around the chart to see where Perry was seated. He was across the room at Table 2 with the Ellicotts and some members of the royal family.

  I took the seat next to Gideon and folded my napkin into my lap. A waiter placed a starter in front of us—dressed crab topped with lemon slices and served with a small cucumber salad. A sommelier came by to pour wine for the table, explaining he’d paired this course with an exquisite white Meursault Burgundy, a French wine that was one of Prince Alexander’s favorites.

  After the room was served, Victoria and Alexander were announced as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.

  I leaned into Gideon. “Why weren’t they announced as prince and princess?” I whispered.

  “You only carry prince or princess before your name if you were born into the role. Because Victoria is a commoner, she doesn’t get the princess title in her own right.”

  “I wonder if she knew that before she agreed to marry him?” I joked.

  “The king bestowed the titles of Duke and Duchess to mark their wedding,” he added. “Not a bad consolation.”

  “Thank goodness I was issued an interpreter for this event. I would’ve been completely lost otherwise.”

  “I’ll draw you a chart later.”

  “Thank you, Viscount Satterley heir apparent to the Earl of Harronsby.” I nudged Gideon’s side. “Did I say that right?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “I’m going to go find the ladies’ room, I’ll be right back;” I excused myself from the table.

  I wandered out of the ballroom and into a corridor. Large Old Masters paintings lined the long hallway. I recognized a Velázquez and Rubens. I was sure the one at the far end of the hall was a Vermeer but wanted to get a closer look. I leaned in to look for a signature or marking on the painting and knocked into the frame.

  “Be careful with that one. You break it. You buy it.”

  “I was looking for the bathroom and apparently wandered into a museum,” I said to Perry, who was watching me from the doorway.

  “No, you’re right, this is just the hallway to the bathroom,” he said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Some hallway.”

  “I know. This is my fourth trip to the palace and I still can’t believe I’m here.”

  “Me neither,” I answered.

  “Neither,” he responded in his posh British accent.

  “Neither, neither. Either, either,” I echoed back to him in the same playful way we used to exchange quips.

  “Let’s call the whole thing off,” he finished.

  I snickered and looked at the ground.

  “What? What is it?” Perry tilted my chin back up again.

  “After you returned to London, I used to imagine you sitting in your house playing your Gershwin records, listening to that song and thinking of us. I say tomato and you say tomahto, right? I guess in the end the lyrics rang true. It was easier to call the whole thing off.”

  “Is that what you think? That it was easier? Saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Really? It didn’t seem so,” I responded.

  A guy with a headset popped his head out from behind the doorway. “Hey, Perry, they need you for sound check.”

  “I’ll be there in a second, Chris,” he yelled back.

  “Go. Your performance is all anyone’s talking about.”

  “I switched it up. We’re not doing The Accession anymore.”

  “No? Which song are you performing?”

  “Dudley’s Petition.”

  Dudley’s Petition was a powerful love ballad between Robert Dudley and Queen Elizabeth. Dudley, growing desperate, decides to make one last, spectacular attempt to persuade Elizabeth to marry him. Pulling out all the stops, he invites her to Kenilworth Castle and stages several days of extraordinarily lavish entertainments at a huge cost. The Queen enjoys every minute of the visit but, in the end, cannot be dazzled into acquiescence. Although she loves Dudley fiercely, she knows marrying him will court disaster in her kingdom, sparking such intense opposition from Dudley’s rivals that it might even spill out into civil war.

  “I’ve never seen that one performed outside of our apartment,” I said.

  “You made a wonderful Elizabeth,” Perry said with a playful smile.

  “I made a terrible Elizabeth. Didn’t you tell me in all your years of performing music you’d never heard anyone that off key?”

  “Yes, true. But the enthusiasm you exhibited—no other actress has quite embodied the role the way you did.”

  “Not even Beyoncé?”

  Perry leaned in close to me and whispered, “Not even the Queen B herself.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll take the compliment and run with it.”

  “Really, Gigi, nobody’s ever even come close to you.”

  “Perry, man, what’s the holdup?” Chris shouted again from down the hall.

  I glanced from Chris back to Perry. “Go. Don’t keep your throngs of adoring fans waiting on account of me.”

  Our eyes locked for just a moment and then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After dinner, dancing, and several toasts, most of the guests made their way into the throne room, which had been completely transformed into a cabaret-type nightclub complete with a stage, dance floor, and cocktail bars stationed in every corner. It reminded me of the Red Coat Club—probably because Victoria had commissioned their same design team to help create a similar feel.

  I’d helped Victoria change from her evening dress into the party dress Jamie designed. It carried over the motif of the jewel-toned stones from the wedding gown, and he’d tactically placed jewels around the collar and hem of the dress for maximum effect. It was fun and flirty and totally different than anything she’d worn all week.

  The glam squad took her hair down from the sleek chignon and flat ironed it perfectly straight with a middle part. I snapped a picture of her and sent it off to Jamie so he could see how the entire look came together. Alexander changed out of his formal tuxedo into a cool midnight blue suit with dark navy velvet lapels. Standing there together, he and Victoria looked like two movie stars out for a night in the big city.

  Although the wedding hoopla would die down, I knew the interest in Victoria and Alexander never would. They were the true embodiment of a fairy tale. Modern royals who were beautiful, elegant, and worldly. I didn’t envy the spotlight that would forever follow them and hoped Victoria would be strong enough to handle it. If these last few months were any indication though, she would be.

  Gideon grabbed us each a cocktail from the bar and found us a high-top table to sit at close to the stage. Alexander walked out from behind the curtain and introduced the singer, Adele, to the crowd who went absolutely wild at the mention of her name. She congratulated Victoria and Alexander on their marriage and then went on to perform some of her biggest hits followed by a brand-new song she’d written just for the occasion.

  I’d tried unsuccessfully for years to score tickets to one of Adele’s shows, which typically sold out in a matter of minutes. Being able to hear her perform in such an intimate setting was once in a lifetime. I looked over at Gideon who was singing along to all the words, having a great time.

  When Adele finished her set, she cleared the stage and Alexander
came back up. She handed him the microphone, which he slipped back into the stand and pulled to the front of the stage.

  “I am thrilled to introduce the next set of performers,” he said. “Following their record-breaking wins at the Olivier Awards, please help me welcome my friend, Perry Gillman, and the incomparable cast of Elizabeth.”

  Alexander quickly vacated the stage as the entire cast of Elizabeth came down the aisles of the audience dressed as traveling mistrals and troubadours. Perry, as Robert Dudley was leading the charge to impress the actress playing Queen Elizabeth, who was reveling in the scene before her. The room was completely silent until Perry started singing with several members of the company joining in at different verses.

  Perry’d written this specific song as a modern take on the madrigal, which he’d explained to me was a popular musical arrangement of the Elizabethan era consisting of several vocal parts with no instrumental accompaniment. Each vocal was carefully layered and harmonized to act as an instrument would if the song were being played by an actual orchestra. Even after several attempts to educate me on the complexity of the music theory involved in this piece, I’d never been sure I quite understood what he was trying to accomplish…until now. Hearing the song performed with the full chorus the way he must’ve imagined when he was writing the score was absolutely mind-blowing.

  I glanced around. Every single eye in the place, including the staff, was transfixed on Perry, who was singing and dancing up the aisles, encouraging audience members to join him in merriment. He was doing all he could to woo his queen. Elizabeth though, wouldn’t be persuaded, ultimately choosing ambition and the crown over love. She turned the heartsick Dudley down, finally and definitively letting him go.

  When the scene was over, the entire room was on its feet applauding. I looked over to the front row where Annabelle was seated. Tears were streaming down her face and all the color was drained from it. I thought back to Perry’s quote from that fateful New York Time’s article: “Certain relationships require too much compromise, too many concessions. Some romances are intense and wonderful but are simply doomed from the start.” My breath caught in my chest. What if it wasn’t me he’d been talking about? What if it was Annabelle?