Whirlwind Romance: 10 Short Love Stories

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  “Your invitation, ma’am.”

  “Sure, it’s right here in my …” Oh dear. I’d forgotten to transfer the white vellum invitation into my evening bag. I could picture it, in my mind, sitting on the foyer table. “Nuts. I guess I left it at home.” I shrugged and gave him a winning smile.

  “You can’t enter without an invitation,” he said politely but firmly.

  “Oh come on, don’t you have a list or something? I’ve got ID.”

  He smiled tolerantly but shook his head.

  “Look, the host, Poppy, is my sister’s best friend. She asked me to take photos for her.” I held up my camera. Back in college, I’d lamented my inability to bring the pictures in my head to life on canvas in the way I longed to do, which was what led me to becoming a connoisseur of art rather than a true artist and the reason I worked as a curator at Le Pinceau. However, after my daughter was born, I found creative solace in my photography.

  In a blink, the camera was snatched out of my hand, and my anger flashed white hot. “Hey, pal. Be careful with that. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “There is no photography allowed, and you many not enter without an invitation.” He held it above his head as I tried to grab it back.

  Refusing to be a part of an undignified keep-away game, I stepped back.

  “Fine.” I held out my hand. “I’ll leave, but not without my camera.”

  The gatekeeper took his sweet time examining the camera, and then eyed my tapping foot before returning the camera to my outstretched palm. I paced back to the giant front door and called Sophie.

  “Where are you? I thought you said you were pulling up. Poppy is asking about you.” Party sounds filtered through her phone.

  “I forgot the stupid invitation, and the dragon at the gate won’t let me through,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “What?”

  “I said,” raising my voice to full volume, “the gatekeeper won’t let me through!” I glared at said gatekeeper, but my glare didn’t seem to move him.

  “Cripes, I’ll send someone to come get you.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up, crossed my arms, and put on a patient face. A minute later, Ian, my sister’s gorgeous fiancé, strode down the steps in a beautifully cut black suit and tie. If I had any interest in men, I would have been insanely jealous of Sophie’s good luck in hooking a hunk like Ian. He played Ryder McKay on the popular cop show, LA Heat. However, I was simply happy someone came to rescue me.

  “You’re looking lovely, m’dear. Sophie sent me to slay the dragon.” His Irish accent rolled across me as he flashed a grin. Sophie was right; he did have a perfect Hollywood smile.

  “This numbskull won’t let me through.” I pointed a finger at the offending dragon.

  “Leave off, Alphonso, she’s with me.” He held out an arm. “My lady, dragon slayed. Come and join us.”

  I hooked a hand through Ian’s elbow, but before I could take a step on one stair, a hand halted us by wrapping around my arm.

  “What the …” Ian muttered as I pulled to a standstill.

  “Don’t touch me!” I screeched at Alphonso, slapping at his hand with my purse. No one, I mean, no one manhandled me.

  He immediately released my arm as though he’d been burned.

  “Don’t touch the lady,” Ian said in a low, menacing tone. Ian had been at my sister’s house the day I arrived from Las Vegas with cuts and bruises, courtesy of my ex-husband, and he was acutely aware of my aversion to being touched, especially by men, without permission.

  Alphonso stepped back with his arms up.

  “What’s the problem, mate?” Ian asked.

  “No cameras. You’ll have to leave it with security until the end of the night.”

  “The hell you say,” I snapped.

  “Ms. Reagan’s orders. She didn’t want the paparazzi ruining the party. No cameras.”

  “Bloody hell, everyone’s got a camera on their flippin’ mobiles, man. You’re not taking them away, are you?”

  He shrugged.

  “Poppy specifically requested I bring this for her party.” I enunciated very slowly, as if speaking to a stubborn child.

  “There you go, mate. Poppy asked for it.” Ian turned to proceed up the stairs, except Alphonso ran ahead of us and held up his hand to halt our progress.

  “I’m sorry, you can’t go up until I get this cleared.”

  “Then get on the bloody horn and get it cleared, man. I haven’t got all fuckin’ night!” Ian lost his patience.

  Alphonso cringed and pulled out a phone. “I have a woman by the name of …” He raised his eyebrow at me.

  “Holly Hartland!” I yelled into the receiver.

  “Um, Ms. Hartland has a camera. She says Ms. Reagan asked her to bring it. Can you confirm this for me? Yes, I’ll wait.”

  “Holly! Ian!” A voice from the balustrade called down to us. “What are you doing? Poppy’s waiting for you! Hurry up.” We glanced up to find Poppy’s right-hand woman and newly named partner of her party planning business leaning over the railing, her blond locks streaming past her shoulder.

  “Cody!” I waved. “This nincompoop won’t let me through with my camera. Do you know if Poppy still wants me to take photos?”

  “Yes, of course. Alphonso!” she barked, “Get the hell out of the way!”

  Alphonso moved to the side, and Ian and I scampered up the stairs, through a large reception room, and out onto the back patio filled with tables of guests. Twinkle lights strung through the shrubbery and the railings, along with the outdoor heaters, gave the party a soft glow. The music had stopped, and the sound of the ocean waves played in the background.

  My sister, in a lovely green swing dress, descended upon us. “What the hell took so long?”

  Ian released me to kiss her cheek. “Don’t ask, luv. We’re here now. What’s the big announcement?”

  “I don’t know. Poppy just told the band to take five. Come with me; she asked us to come to the stage.”

  We found Poppy and her adorable fiancé, Dr. Adam Patterson, with his arm around her waist, surrounded by other party guests, chatting amiably. Poppy looked stunning in flowy, long-sleeved, aquamarine dress that set her red hair off beautifully. Adam’s sandy hair shone under the lights, and he looked striking in a dark suit and tie.

  Cody approached the group and swished her hand as if presenting a gift from the Price is Right show. “Voilà. I found her.”

  Poppy smiled at us, and in a single swoop, I was enveloped by Chanel No. 5. “I’m so glad you were able to make it. You had us worried.”

  “Sorry, there was a skinned knee, bloodstains, and a change of outfit at the last minute.”

  “Ah.” Her face turned serious. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, it was Annie. She’ll be fine.” I waved away her concern. “Gary took care of it.”

  “Is he here?” She looked past me. “I thought he was your plus-one?”

  “Our babysitter bailed and my nanny, Sanvi, is out of town this weekend.” I shrugged. “He drew the short straw.”

  “Shame. You two make such a cute couple. I was looking forward to seeing if our oh-so-serious-detective would let down his hair and party with us.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows at me, and I could feel my face burn as I shook my head. I didn’t have that type of relationship with Gary, the single father with whom I shared a nanny and babysitting chores for my daughter, Eva, and his, Annie. Although on more than one occasion, Poppy had made similar sly comments about us being together.

  “Oh well, it can’t be helped.” She clapped her hands. “Okay, all of you stay right here while Adam and I make our announcement.”

  Adam helped her onto the stage, and a moment later, a tap-tap-tap on the microphone filled the room. “Hello, is this thing working?”

  The audience nodded and a few souls shouted out, “Yes!”

  “As most of you know, my mom’s been going through some hard times.”

  My stoma
ch dropped. Oh no.

  “Well, you’ll be happy to hear the new medication she’s on seems to be working. We’re beating back the cancer!”

  Whoops and joyful yells went up through the crowd. I snapped a picture of the couple on stage, turned and found Poppy’s mom, Amalina, sitting at a nearby table, with a wobbly smile, holding her husband’s hand. He looked down at her with such a look of love I snapped a series of photos.

  “Thanks to all of you who have been so supportive with your prayers, and meals, and driving her to appointments.” Poppy’s smile wavered, and Adam wrapped a possessive arm around her waist while she took a moment to compose herself. “We’d also like to welcome Adam’s family and thank all of you who came from out of town to be with us. We feel truly blessed that you’re here.”

  Clapping filled the room.

  “But I have one more announcement.”

  “You’re pregnant!” A man’s voice piped in from the back.

  Adam rolled his eyes and leaned into the microphone. “No, Luke. Please disregard my brother’s asinine comments, folks.”

  “You’ve been brought here under false pretenses,” Poppy said.

  A murmur went through the crowd and I lowered the camera.

  “Hey, I ain’t paying for the lobster dinner. I didn’t bring my credit card,” someone from the crowd cried. Laughter followed the comment.

  Poppy and Adam grinned and she shook her head. “No worries, the food is all paid for. No, you were told this was an engagement party. Well … it’s not.”

  A mumbling of “what” went through the crowd.

  “It’s a wedding!”

  The crowd was stunned to silence for about ten seconds, and then cheers and whistles erupted.

  “A moment,” Poppy shushed the crowd. “Even though my mother is improving, it occurred to Adam and me that nothing in this world is assured, and we didn’t want to wait another moment before tying the knot.”

  People murmured and nodded with understanding.

  “And,” Poppy continued, “since you’re all dressed up so nice and everything, we figured … what the hell? So why don’t you get another cocktail and meander back to your seats—the wedding will start in about fifteen or twenty minutes. Thank you.”

  Clapping commenced, and my camera whirred, snapping photos of the happy couple and the friends that surrounded them.

  Sophie flung her arms around Poppy as soon as she stepped off the stage. I caught the surprise and joy in Poppy’s face as she accepted the embrace.

  “I can’t believe it! You’ll be married before me!”

  Poppy stepped back. “I still want you and Cody to be my attendants. Adam has his brother. Walter was supposed to be here but got called away on an emergency, so Ian’s agreed to stand up with him. And Holly,” she turned to me, “would you …”

  I was way ahead of her. Holding up my camera, I grinned. “Already on it.”

  “Thank you, so much. I figured if I hired one of my regular photographers, the secret would get out. Besides, you have such an eye for composition.”

  I warmed at the compliment. I’d never photographed something as important as a wedding, but the camera gave me every confidence I could capture what Poppy needed.

  Poppy’s mother joined us with a knowing smile and a hug for her daughter. I had a feeling she’d been in on the secret.

  “Boys”—Poppy pointed to Adam and Ian—“go get ready. Ladies, follow me.” She hooked her arm through her mother’s and gleefully led us à la the Pied Piper. I trotted behind, snapping pictures capturing the crowd’s excitement, until we reached a small reception room inside the mansion. A wall of mirrors mounted the far side, and on a stand in the center stood a spectacular wedding gown crafted in lace and tulle with a deep V in the front and back. Wide lace straps and a short train completed a stunning designer gown I could have sworn I’d seen on the front cover of a magazine recently while standing in the grocery checkout line.

  “Oh, Poppy, it’s just beautiful.” Sophie gushed. She, Cody, and her mom rotated around the manikin, viewing the dress from all sides.

  “Where did you get it on such short notice?” I asked.

  Poppy’s eyes gleamed as she watched her friends ooh and ahh. “The designer owed me one, and she happened to have this in my size because the client she originally made it for called off the wedding. A few adjustments and there you have it. Dream wedding dress on the fly.”

  “Who’d you get to perform the ceremony last minute?” I asked as her mother began unbuttoning the tiny seed pearls.

  Poppy’s face turned pink. “Do you remember hearing about my blind date who wanted to take me skydiving?”

  “Right. Sophie told me all about the hottie bad boy, but you chickened out at the last minute.”

  “Indeed. Campbell, my aborted skydiving date, is an online minister. A few weeks ago, Adam and I decided to make this happen, and we found out the minister we’d originally planned to have marry us was already booked for another wedding, and … well, Campbell’s name came to mind. Luckily, he was available.”

  “So a bad blind date is going to marry you.”

  “It wasn’t a bad date per se.”

  “Didn’t you kiss him?”

  “Uh. Sort of.” Her face flamed.

  I grinned at her discomfort. “Does Adam know?”

  She shot daggers my way. “He knows what he needs to know.”

  I made a zipping motion across my lips and took a photo as her mom and Cody managed to finish undoing the buttons and remove the dress from its perch.

  “Darling, you’re not undressed yet,” Amalina chastised. “Hurry up; you don’t want to keep the groom waiting.

  While Poppy undressed, I put the camera down and stepped out for a moment to call Gary with the news.

  “So, they just turned the engagement party into their wedding?” he asked in a disbelieving voice.

  “Yes. Isn’t it exciting? Now I’m really sorry you couldn’t come tonight.”

  “Me too. I’m missing steak and lobster tail.”

  I snorted. “Men. Is that all you can think about? Two people are getting married at the spur of the moment. It’s so romantic.”

  “Romance, shmomance. I’m going to be dreaming about the lobster I’m missing. I had pizza with two toddlers, you know. You’d better bring me back a piece of cake or something.”

  I laughed. “Will do. And thanks again for taking one for the team tonight.”

  “Anytime. You know I owe you one.” His voice turned serious. “Or half a dozen after all the times I’ve dropped Annie off at your place.”

  “Nonsense. You don’t owe me anything. That’s what friends are for. Right?”

  “Friends …” He mumbled something unintelligible.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Listen, don’t drink and drive. Call a cab if you need to, and I’ll take you to get your car in the morning.”

  “Yes, Dad, I’ll be careful,” I said sarcastically.

  “I’m not your dad, Holly. I’m a cop, and this isn’t a joking matter.”

  I winced at his sharp tone and immediately turned on my conciliatory voice. “You’re right. I’m so sorry; please don’t get mad.” I hated arguments and avoided them at all costs. Arguments led to anger, and anger led to violence.

  A sigh blew across the phone lines. “Holly, I’m not mad. I just take drinking and driving seriously … I can hear you cringing. Stop it. I’m not Omar,” he said quietly, his voice full of compassion.

  Why is it my nerves can rise to the surface so quickly? It had been over a year since Omar went to jail, yet every once in a while, the knee-jerk reaction still came out whenever someone spoke sharply to me. The rational part of me knew Gary was simply concerned for my welfare.

  Air flowed in my nose and out my mouth before I answered. “I know. Old habits are hard to break. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just realize I’m not like him. I never will be. Now, I’ll keep the girls with me
tonight, and you can pick Eva up in the morning,”

  Sophie stuck her head out and winked at me. “Holly, she’s ready for her photo shoot.”

  Inner poise regained, I gave her a thumbs up. “That sounds good, Gary, thanks. I’m needed, so I’ve got to run. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  • • •

  The evening went off without a hitch … at least as far as the guests could tell. If possible, the dress looked even more stunning on Poppy’s tall, willowy body than it did hanging on the manikin. Her red hair hung in waves down her back, and the cream coloring in the dress only enhanced her alabaster skin. Cody had applied touch of peach lipstick to finish the look. My camera shutter fluttered away, capturing the touching nuance of a first-time bride.

  Poppy’s diminutive mother walked her down the aisle to a beaming Adam, who had changed into a tuxedo. He and the groomsmen wore mini orchid boutonnieres and stood to the right of the most unlikely looking minister I’d ever seen. Campbell, who held a job as a stunt man, was handsome as sin, with coffee-colored hair down to his shoulders and a devil-may-care look about him. Not at all the staid minister you’d expect. He was perfect for Poppy’s unorthodox wedding.

  As the bride and groom took their vows, my mind traveled back to my wedding to Omar when I was an excited, young newlywed filled with expectations for happily-ever-after. Even though the warning signs that the marriage would turn abusive were there, I blithely ignored them. Unfortunately, not only did I pay the price for my stupidity, so did my sister.

  Campbell’s voice interrupted my depressing thoughts. “You may kiss the bride.”

  I whipped the camera up and captured the iconic moment that begins a couple’s life together.

  • • •

  Because I’d been so busy capturing Poppy’s impromptu wedding, I hadn’t had time to drink much more than half a glass of champagne and was perfectly sober to drive home. I thought no more about my first marriage until sitting silently in the car. Sophie had once told me that I would find love again and marry the right person. I remember her saying it with a wink and a smile, as though she knew something I didn’t. However, my fears of trusting another man with my happiness or my daughter’s ran bone deep.