Dana decided she’d wait until tomorrow to let her parents and friends in New York know about the wedding. She didn’t want them to be disappointed, or try to talk her into waiting, since none of them could be there. Dana kept waiting for disappointment to bubble up to the surface over their absence, but so far it hadn’t happened, probably because she knew she and Josh would be having another, more traditional wedding in the fall.
Leaving her grandmother in the living room to put makeup on her burgeoning bruises, Dana went to check on her aunt Molly in the kitchen. Molly was sitting at the table, fiddling with her camera as she drew deeply on a clove cigarette, the last vestige of her younger “bohemian days.” Molly was the designated photographer, a smart move since she actually had an eye, unlike Dana’s grandmother, who’d only ever taken pictures of the different cats she’d had over the years.
Molly smiled up at her. “Nervous?”
“Not at all.”
“Good,” Molly said, peering at Dana through the lens of the camera. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
Dana’s grandmother appeared in the kitchen doorway, unable to leave her alone for a single minute. A second later, Dana was treated to the crackle of her grandmother’s walkie-talkie. “Sam? Adele. How are things going?”
“Fine.”
“Good. See you in twenty, ten if you can get them to wrap it up faster.”
For the first time all day, Dana’s stomach gave a small flip. “What are the two of you up to?”
“You’ll like it,” her grandmother replied enigmatically. “I promise.”
Dana’s eyes shot to Molly. Her face was conveniently hidden behind her camera as she fiddled with the lens.
Sighing, Dana headed off to her bedroom. She had only one option of what to wear: her business suit. Would she look silly standing next to Josh in his jeans and tennis shirt? Yes. Did she care? Nope.
“Dana?”
My shadow, Dana thought. Time to do some major cutting of slack.
“What’s up?”
Her grandmother perched on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking: do you remember what you wore to Lois and Johnny’s wedding? You know, the first night you and Josh went out?”
Dana nodded with a burgeoning sense of dread.
Her grandmother grew animated. “That outfit was beautiful.” Her eyes began to grow misty. “You looked so beautiful in that blouse I bought you.”
Dana’s smile slowly faded as the walls closed in.
“It would mean a lot to me if you wore it. Plus it would count as something new.”
“I ...”
The epaulet shirt. Josh would probably salute her when he saw her. But her grandmother was holding her breath, looking so hopeful that Dana couldn’t turn her down.
“Great idea, Grandma. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” She bounced once on the bed like a little girl. “Now. I’ve got something old for you.” She opened her palm, revealing a tiny velvet drawstring bag that she handed to Dana. Dana carefully opened the bag, pulling out a delicate pair of emerald teardrop earrings.
“Those belonged to my mother,” her grandmother managed, choking up. “I wore them on my wedding day.”
“Grandma,” Dana whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Your mother didn’t like them, so she didn’t wear them when she got married. That’s why she’s not going to get them when I die. You are.”
“Grandma!”
Her grandmother quickly swiped both eyes. “You know me: I pull no punches.” She put a hand on Dana’s forearm to steady herself as she stood up. “Molly’s going outside to pick some flowers for your hair.”
Dana started with alarm. “She can’t do that. Josh planted those.”
“Bah. He can plant others later.”
Dana backed off, unable to hide her amusement. “Gotcha.”
“I’ll leave you to it, doll.” She gave a small sniffle as she tightly clasped Dana’s hand between hers. “I know you and Josh are going to be very happy together. I know it.”
Dana felt a wave of untamed joy roll through her. “Me, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Dana sat in a small dressing room just off the banquet room with her grandparents, waiting for Rabbi Stern to pop his head in to let them know when the ceremony was about to begin. She still didn’t feel nervous. If anything, she felt exultant—goofy even, though that didn’t seem a very dignified word to describe a bride.
Her grandfather, looking handsome in a pinstriped suit, had taken to smoothing his hair back every few seconds, a nervous tic Dana had never seen before. Finally, her grandmother grabbed his hands.
“Calm down, old man,” she chided affectionately. “Anyone would think it was you getting married.”
His eyes filled with adoration as he looked at Dana’s grandmother. “You looked so beautiful that day, Adele. You still do.”
They exchanged a look of such intense love that Dana felt her heart spark. That’ll be me and Josh in fifty years: our eyesight worse, our hearing fading, the passage of time stealing a few inches from our height and adding them to our waists, but it won’t matter. All we’ll see when we look at each other is love.
There was a quick knock on the door that sent Dana’s pulse surging as the rabbi poked his head in with a smile. “Ready when you are.”
“I’m ready.”
“Quite a crowd you’ve got out there.”
Crowd? Dana’s pulse shot up higher as she stared hard at her grandparents.
“This is your first surprise!” her grandmother burst out, sounding like a little girl who’d been holding in a secret all day. “We’ve packed the place! All our friends, Molly’s friends—”
“Neighbors—” her grandfather put in.
“All here to see our beautiful granddaughter get married,” her grandmother beamed.
“And,” her grandfather continued proudly, “we’ve also taken care of the music.”
“When the music starts up, the three of you come on out,” the rabbi instructed warmly.
Music? Dana thought.
“Got it,” said Dana’s grandfather. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice, Gary.”
“Please, Sam. It’s an honor.” He winked at Dana, quietly closing the door behind him.
Dana’s grandmother started rubbing her back. “You doing okay?”
“I’m doing great, Grandma. Honestly.”
Rather than have just her grandfather walk her down the “aisle,” Dana had decided she’d have both grandparents do it. She couldn’t imagine her grandmother taking a backseat in this, anyway.
Dana opened the door a sliver, waiting. Finally, it came: the first two notes of the traditional wedding march, followed by the third and fourth, which were jarringly wrong. Confused, Dana opened the door a bit wider. Sitting in a chair directly across the room from them was an old woman in glasses whose lenses were thick as hockey pucks. She was balancing a miniature Casio keyboard on her lap, her wooly eyebrows scrunched together in intense concentration.
Dana waited and winced her way through three false starts before her grandmother thrust her head out the door. “I thought you knew how to play that thing, Phyllis!”
The old woman looked up from the keyboard, her voice quavering. “I do! I’m just rusty. Give me a minute or two.”
Dana made sure not to look at Josh, afraid that if their eyes met they’d both burst out laughing.
“Can you believe this?” her grandmother asked, rummaging through her purse.
“Calm down, Adele,” said Dana’s grandfather. “There’s no need for a Valium. This wedding is going to be perfect no matter what happens.”
“Grandpa is right,” Dana chimed in.
“I hope you’re right,” her grandmother said.
Finally, feeling like a few years had been clipped off her life, Dana heard Phyllis’s reedy voice call out. “Ready, Adele!”
She took each of her grandparents b
y the hand. “We ready?”
“Ready,” they replied in unison.
Dana started up the makeshift aisle toward Josh, accompanied not only by her grandparents and the shaky notes playing on the Casio, but a chorus of approving “Ooh’s” and “Ah’s.” Seeing Josh waiting for her at the front of the room, his handsome face incandescent with happiness, Dana was tempted to ditch her grandparents and break into a run. But for decorum’s sake, she stuck to tradition.
Giddy as she was, she managed to calm herself as she took her place beside Josh beneath the chuppah. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, taking her hand firmly in his. “Though I do wonder what rank you are.”
Dana squeezed his hand hard. “I knew you’d say that.”
“I couldn’t resist,” Josh whispered. “It’s really sweet that you’re wearing it for your grandmother.”
“Very sweet,” Dana whispered back.
“Think of it this way: our kids will have a really good laugh at us when they look at the pictures one day.”
“God, I love you.”
Dana could barely concentrate on the rabbi’s words as the ceremony began, so completely was her attention fixed on Josh. Reciting vows felt almost superfluous; they already belonged to one another. Dana knew that in the future, the memory of Josh’s loving, unwavering gaze was something she’d be able to conjure perfectly anytime she needed or wanted to. In sickness and health, to have and to hold. One day her children would ask how they’d met, and she’d tell them, adding that when it’s the right time, love will find you.
The proclamation of “You may now kiss the bride!” sent joy rocketing through her as Josh pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. That a gesture so simple could fill her with so much love amazed her. Her love for him was spilling over the brim, its miraculous tide threatening to carry her away.
Kiss completed, the guests broke into applause. Josh put his mouth to Dana’s ear and murmured, “If you ask me, this is our best Early Bird Special ever.”
Dana laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Weddings, Ink.
CHRISTIE RIDGWAY
CHAPTER ONE
Mulling over her first appointment of the day, Charlotte Bond considered the wisdom of adding whiskey to her morning latté. The benefit: making the next hour of doing business with her teenage nemesis more bearable. The drawback: liquor invariably unleashed her inhibitions. Who knew what might come out of her mouth?
She was still pondering when she heard the outer door to her workplace open. Her gaze flicked to her desk clock. Nine o’clock on the dot! Since when had Audrey Langford ever been punctual?
Footsteps made it clear her visitor was moving into the small reception area. Charlotte had a part-time assistant—a nineteen-year-old from the community college where she taught writing courses two afternoons a week—but she didn’t arrive until ten. So Charlotte immediately rose from her desk and moved toward the half-closed door to her private office, mentally preparing a friendly greeting. Though she’d spent four years waiting for the un-punctual “Princess” Audrey, Charlotte took pride in her professionalism. No way would she make the other woman wait.
When you ran your own company, you had to deal with all kinds of people. Despite their shared past, Audrey was just another client of Charlotte’s personalized wedding vows business and she would be serviced just like every other client, too. Meaning Charlotte would do what she must to write vows that would be both personal and elegant. Her company’s motto, after all, was “I do-ing it with style,” and she guaranteed 100 percent satisfaction.
Nothing would compromise that.
Anyway, a mere sixty minutes from now she’d have Audrey Langford once again gone from her life. Following their meeting, furnishing the words the other woman would speak on her wedding day required only a simple e-mail. And if Charlotte managed to hustle Audrey out in a short forty-five ticks of the minute hand, maybe she’d even give her the friends and family discount.
Her hand on the door, she pushed it open. “Welcome to—” Charlotte swallowed the last words, her professional smile dying.
Luke Harper stood in her reception area, not Audrey Langford. Dark and lean Luke Harper, the most recent man in her life to walk away.
“Y-you.” Her fingers clutched the soft folds of her empire-waist dress. She hadn’t seen him in more than twelve months. After their big blowup, she’d heard he’d signed on for a year with an engineering firm operating in Qatar. When he’d abandoned her, he’d run to the other side of the earth.
“How are you, Charlotte?” Luke wasn’t smiling, either. His hands slipped into the pockets of a pair of dark jeans. He wore a dress shirt with them, crisply ironed and the exact same green as his eyes. The color was perfect for him, the shirt one she didn’t recognize.
Her fist went to her chest, pressing against a sudden pang. Stupid, how it hurt that he’d done something as commonplace as shopping without her.
Or perhaps a girlfriend had purchased it for him. The pang stabbed deeper.
“Charlotte?” He frowned.
She realized she’d been staring. Restoring her friendly smile, she moved forward and held out both her hands. “Luke, how lovely to see you.” Why the hell are you here?
Before they could make contact, the outer door opened again and a familiar voice sounded. “Yoo-hoo,” Audrey Langford said, stepping inside. “Where’s my prize? I was almost on time.”
Charlotte’s hands fell to her sides as she took in the woman who’d been her stepsister during their high school years. Following the divorce of her mother and Audrey’s father, she’d heard snippets about her here and there, but she’d never set eyes on the petite blonde since the family breakup.
She’d changed little. Her hair might be a shade more platinum, her makeup more expertly applied, but she appeared not to have gained an ounce since turning eighteen. She wore a size two silk shantung suit the color of lemon sherbet.
Audrey’s looks had rocked Charlotte’s self-esteem from the beginning. Standing at five feet, eight and one-half inches, she felt like an Amazon in comparison. Her hair, the color of bittersweet chocolate, was nothing special when measured against those sunny angel tresses. Then there was the other uncomfortable contrast, she thought, pulling together the edges of the little black sweater she wore over her knee-length dress.
With her natural air of superiority, Audrey had always claimed she was a “ ‘D’ cup—D as in dainty.” Charlotte was nowhere near that delicate. Up-top she was an actual, honest-to-God D—as in double helpings.
Her glance cut to Luke. Not that he’d ever seemed to mind.
That’s when her thought processes froze. Luke was here. Audrey was here. Could that possibly mean ... ?
As her brain tried absorbing the implication, she watched the bride-to-be greet him with an enthusiastic hug and a lingering kiss on the cheek. Luke was smiling now.
Oh, God. Could it be true? Was he Audrey’s groom?
Then Charlotte was subjected to her own, much more perfunctory hug from her ex-stepsister. When the other woman moved back, her mouth parted to exhibit a blinding display of white veneers. “What? No congratulations?”
“It’s ‘best wishes’ to the bride,” Charlotte said, her lips feeling numb. Her part-timer had taken the booking, so while she’d seen Audrey’s name in her appointment book, this was the first opportunity for the two of them to speak. “ ‘Congratulations’ go to the groom.”
The wound in her chest spilled acid as she realized what was expected of her now. Steeling herself, she turned toward her former lover and hoped the curve she forced on her mouth looked like a smile. “Congrats, Luke.”
A strange expression crossed his face. “Thanks. I’m pretty stoked about the whole thing myself.”
“That’s fabulous,” she said, nodding, though feeling as if she’d just swallowed a cup of the biodegradable confetti that was the latest rage to toss at just-married couples.
Audrey snagged Charlotte at t
he elbow. “Enough about him,” she said briskly. “This appointment is all about me.”
Of course it was. Charlotte was familiar with that sentiment after four years sharing a bedroom, a car, and a set of mismatched parents. “Let’s go into my office and get comfortable.”
Luke trailed them inside. He looked around as she settled Audrey onto the black-and-white toile love seat that sat adjacent to a pair of matching upholstered chairs. “You painted,” he said.
She blinked. “Yes.” He remembered that much about her office? It had been an inoffensive, but not altogether pleasing sage green. Her college student helper had suggested Charlotte color the walls an icy blue.
“It matches your eyes,” Luke added. “I like it.”
Flustered by the remark, Charlotte dropped into one of the chairs and found herself twirling the ends of her elbow-length hair. Stupid nervous gesture, she admonished herself, and forced that hand to her lap. With the other, she indicated the space on the love seat beside Audrey. “Please sit down.”
To her surprise, he took the empty chair.
“Do you want to take notes or something?” Audrey asked. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
“Right.” Embarrassed, because she usually did have her notebook with her during a consultation, she made to rise.
“Let me,” Luke put in and he was up and at her desk before she could demur. When he handed over the pages covered in robin’s-egg-blue leather—it was her favorite, had he remembered that, too?—their fingers brushed.
Awareness ran like lightning up her arm. Charlotte jumped, then tried to cover the response by crossing one knee over the other. As Luke returned to his seat, she caught him staring at her bare legs. Flushing with heat, she tugged down the hem of her dress and shifted her focus to the bride.
“Your wedding date’s June fifteenth?” she asked. “In six weeks, is that right?”
“Yes,” Audrey confirmed. “And my wedding planner, AnnaMarie Reed, is the one who recommended your service. Imagine my surprise when I learned that the most sought-after vows consultant in the greater LA area is none other than you!”
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