by Nadia Lee
“Actually he’s not paying for it.”
“He isn’t?” Her eyes widened. “Who is?”
“Jane’s dad.”
“Oh my god.” Hilary knew Jane’s family wasn’t rich. They were lower middle class people, who had enough to provide for themselves but little extra. “And Iain agreed to this?” Hilary asked, remembering how much their own wedding had cost. They hadn’t done anything too extravagant—or so Mark had insisted, even though she’d thought it was crazy—and kept the affair as small as possible, but even then the total bill had come out in the mid six figures.
“He was outvoted by Mom.”
“No way. Seriously?”
He nodded.
“I can’t decide if I should feel sorry for Jane or not.”
“Mom’s not that bad. She’s mellowed out a lot recently.” Mark grew pensive as he gazed at a spot beyond the blank TV. “She’s less…brittle now that she’s divorced.”
Hilary reached over and linked her fingers with his. “You’re right. She seems happier.” At least outwardly so. The woman had too much pride to let people see any inner pain.
Still, Hilary couldn’t help but think that Ceinlys regretted her decision to get rid of her husband. Unnoticed, she’d seen Ceinlys walk out of a room after Salazar at the hospital where Vanessa had delivered Ryan. Tears had spiked her eyelashes, and her face had a ghostly pallor that made Hilary wonder for a moment if Ceinlys was actually going to pass out.
“Anyway, let me get that contractor’s number,” Hilary said. “I don’t want her upset with me.”
* * *
“What do you think?”
Ceinlys started when she realized the florist was staring at her expectantly. She hadn’t listened to a word he had said. Her gaze darted to the glossy photos. So many options, so many colors. “We’ll have to decide on the bouquet later, after we have her gown, but for now you should draw up three schemes to choose from, maybe something with some blue.” It would ensure Jane would have something blue at the wedding if she cared about stuff like that.
“I can get them to you tomorrow if that’s acceptable.” Kevin smiled, revealing rows of straight teeth that had been recently bleached. In a black turtleneck, dark jeans and sneakers, he looked like a Steve Jobs wannabe without the glasses. Not that he had any talent for computers. He had an assistant for that.
“Excellent. It’s an outdoor wedding at the grove, so we don’t need a lot,” she said in a voice cool with moneyed authority. She didn’t want anyone to think Iain and Jane were being miserly. Wes might have his pride, but then there was also Iain’s pride to consider.
“Of course.”
She gave him a regal nod, then checked the time. She’d asked Jane to do her own wedding gown shopping with her friends and get something she would feel comfortable in. Ceinlys would not interfere the way Shirley had…
Ceinlys pulled out a gorgeous white dress with a full skirt and small pearls sewn to the bodice. The design was otherwise simple and elegant, and the sheen of the satin bodice would make her look luminous.
Shirley merely pursed her lips. “Come now. We can do better than that. It would look positively cheap on you.”
The coolly delivered verdict killed the joy bubbling inside Ceinlys. She stared at the dress she’d picked out, trying to see it from her future mother-in-law’s point of view. Still, she didn’t understand how it could look cheap. The dress would show off her bare shoulders—one of Ceinlys’s best features—and the material was costly. She’d never touched anything so fine and beautiful.
“What you want is this.” Shirley gestured a careless hand toward another dress, made mostly of ivory lace and satin. It covered the shoulders, the fitted sleeves long and elaborate, and came with a cathedral veil edged with lace and tiny diamonds. The store assistant came over with a cathedral train to match.
The gown was stunning, but too formal for Ceinlys’s taste. She couldn’t imagine getting married in it, but somehow her protest died in her throat under Shirley’s cold, steely gaze.
Did it matter what Ceinlys wore? This was about her marrying the man of her dreams. Salazar had already fought with his mother over his choice of bride. She didn’t want to cause more friction over something as inconsequential as a dress. Besides, even if she’d never imagined getting married in something like it, she could get used to it. It wasn’t as though she’d dreamed of marrying someone like Salazar either.
“It is beautiful,” Ceinlys said, managing to pull her lips back for a smile.
Shirley’s expression did not warm. “You have much to learn.”
That had proven true. Ceinlys had learned quite a lot under Shirley’s disapproving gaze.
Shoving aside the old memory, Ceinlys squared her shoulders. It was time she began restoring the grove.
Chapter Nine
As Salazar sat down, Al poured him a coffee.
“Here’s the daily report, sir,” Al said.
Salazar looked at the printed letter-sized paper. He used to peruse the Wall Street Journal, but now he read the report from the staff at the grove. Lawyers were still squabbling over the damage three ways—Team Pryce, Team Insurance and Team Trucking Company, the last two of which were being intransigent. They should just pay for the damned thing. So what if it was expensive? Maybe the driver shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It wasn’t Salazar’s problem the man couldn’t tell the difference between the gas pedal and the brake.
Of course Ceinlys had already started on restoring the house and the damaged field. He didn’t understand her drive. There were other places to hold a wedding, even on short notice. But for some reason she was determined to have Iain and Jane marry at the grove.
Part of him realized his ex-wife had an ulterior motive. But what was it?
Ceinlys’s contractor had shown up four days earlier to look at how much work it would take to restore the main house. Salazar shook his head. Soon she would realize it would be futile to try to get the grove back to its former glory by Christmas Eve. He had no intention of helping her, and he didn’t particularly want the place restored anytime soon.
The cell phone he’d placed next to his forks buzzed like a particularly industrious bee. Kimberly. Why was she calling so early?
“Sir, I just wanted to let you know that the general contractor is refusing to bill us.”
“Why?” He scowled at the freshly baked croissants in the bread basket. “My money’s just as good as hers.”
“He says the contract is strictly between him and your wi—ex-wife. Also, her lawyer delivered a memo with Ceinlys’s signature.”
His stomach clenched, as it did every time Ceinlys’s lawyer sent something. He hated other people’s lawyers, especially his ex-wife’s. “What does she want now?”
“Well, it’s not a demand. The memo basically says that she’s doing the repairs without any expectation of compensation or ownership in the grove.”
Jesus. Ceinlys hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she’d do something like this. He rubbed his face with his palm. “Anything else?”
“No sir.”
He hung up, his appetite gone. Not that he ate much these days anyway, but it was always good to keep up appearances, pretend he was as he’d always been. He’d be damned if he’d give people something to talk about.
Still, he needed coffee. He finished the cup and dialed Ceinlys. It went to her voice mail. He waited a few minutes and dialed again. No answer.
What the hell?
He glanced at his watch. Seven a.m. Where was she?
Maybe a new boy toy had kept her up late.
The insidious thought ghosted through his mind, but the resultant anger made him tighten his fist around the phone, blue veins popping out on the back of his hand.
He glanced at the report from the grove’s staff. The head housekeeper noted that Ceinlys came by every day and spent at least three hours. Why was she doing this? Why did she want to restore it that badly? If it was about the damned weddin
g…
He called Jane. Unlike Ceinlys, his son’s fiancée answered on the fourth ring.
“Hi!” she said, her voice cheery. Salazar couldn’t remember ever seeing her less than cheery. Well, except that one time when Dane had called her a charity case…
That had been rude even by Dane’s standards. On the other hand, Salazar couldn’t fault his oldest too much—he’d thought the same thing at first.
“How can I get in touch with your father?” Salazar asked.
“Um… I could give you his phone number. Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just need to discuss some things with him.”
“Sure.” She rattled off the number, which he immediately memorized. “By the way, I hope you aren’t too disappointed about Dane canceling the Christmas party.”
He snorted. Either Jane was purposely clueless or outright stupid. “I’m sure no one’s too broken up about it, especially Dane. He finds Christmas more or less pointless.”
“But I thought…”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweetheart.”
He could feel her disapproval at his condescending tone, but he was in no mood to explain himself to anyone, especially a future daughter-in-law. Before she could offer more clueless opinions about Dane or Christmas or the family, Salazar hung up and dialed Jane’s father.
The man answered his phone, his accent soft and lulling. “Hello?”
“Is this Wes Connolly?”
“In the flesh. Who’s this?”
“Salazar Pryce—Iain’s father.”
“Oh.”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“Of course not. What’s this about?”
“The wedding.” Salazar signaled the maid for another coffee. “I heard from Ceinlys that you’re going to pay for the ceremony.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, she thought that would be good.”
“You do understand we have certain expectations for it.” Thankfully Dane didn’t have a poor father-in-law with too much pride to see his limitations.
“Sure, I understand. I offered all of the wedding funds I’ve been saving for Jane.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, twenty thousand won’t even pay for a decent gown.”
The man made a strangled sound.
Salazar blithely continued, “Iain’s mother thought it would be possible to manage because she was hoping to have an outdoor wedding at a grove owned by the family, which the kids could’ve used for free. Unfortunately, there’s been an incident there, and it won’t work for a December wedding.”
“Uh. I see. Well, I could ask the local pastor here if we can use the church…”
“There will be a Christmas service, though, right?”
“That’s true…’
“Hmm. It’d probably be best if you at least had Iain pay for the venue. That way, Jane can have the wedding she’s always dreamed of,” Salazar laid it on thick, although he didn’t know if Wes really gave a damn about what Jane dreamed of.
From what Salazar had heard, Jane’s family had thought she was silly—and faintly ridiculous—to want to be a paid chef. Undoubtedly they’d wanted to keep their free cook and maid under their roof. Selfish bastards. And people said Salazar was a bad father, when he’d given his children, even Vanessa, fifty million bucks each so they could do whatever they wanted with their lives without worrying about money.
He deserved the Father of the Century Award.
“But your wife—”
“Ex-wife,” Salazar corrected, even though Wes’s calling Ceinlys his “wife” had sounded surprisingly…nice.
“Ah…right. Ex-wife. She said it would be okay.”
Salazar pressed his lips together. Apparently the idiot hadn’t understood a thing he’d said. “Look. Unless there’s enough money to pay for a venue, the wedding can’t happen. Right? The only thing I’m asking is that you let Iain pay for the place.” He pushed his thumb against the tight spot above his left eyebrow, hoping it would help relieve the tension growing there. “Or do you want your only daughter to get married in a t-shirt and shorts on somebody’s lawn?”
“That’s not what I said!”
“To put things in perspective for you, my wedding thirty-six years ago cost almost a million.”
“Like, a million dollars?”
“In my family, we don’t discuss pennies.”
Wes breathed hard. “Well in my family, twenty thousand dollars is enough. That’s how much my friends spent on their kids’ weddings.”
“I’m sure it is…generally…but you have to understand that your daughter is marrying a billionaire, who happens to live in one of the most expensive cities in the country.” Salazar stopped for a moment, waiting for the other man’s response.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s just… I just wanted to do it for my baby.”
“Hey, I get it. I know you mean well, but the problem here is time. If the wedding got pushed back ’til next December, you’d be fine, right? Able to finance the whole thing. But my son doesn’t seem to have much patience when it comes to your daughter. He’s smitten,” Salazar said smoothly. Now that he’d made his point, it was about time he unruffled some feathers.
Sure enough, Wes chuckled. “Yeah, he is. That’s what relieves me the most.” He drew in an audible breath. “Okay, you’re right. I want her to have the best. I’ll let Jane know about this. After all, you only get married once.”
“That’s what they say.” Even the serial divorcées like Julian Reed went into each marriage thinking it was going to be their last.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, then hung up. After finishing his coffee, he called Iain.
“Hello, Dad,” came the neutral greeting.
Iain had become a bit more guarded around Salazar since last Christmas, while he’d grown closer to his mother. Had that been Jane’s doing as well? “Good morning, son. I spoke with Jane’s father, and I’ve got great news. You’re going to pay for the venue.”
“I am? But Mom said that the wedding’s gonna be held in the grove.”
“I know, but the place looks like a war zone. It won’t be ready in time…unless you want to wait until next year.”
“Nope.”
“Thought not. So you can thank me now.”
That got a small—but genuine—laugh. “Okay: thank you. I didn’t know what to make of it when Mom said Wes was going to pay for everything except the reception. I understand she wants to spare his pride, but…”
“Does she?” Why did the idea of Ceinlys wanting to preserve Wes’s pride make his skin feel so tight and hot? “She should’ve put her foot down from the very beginning. It isn’t like you get married every day.”
“True enough. This is going to be my one and only.”
The aftertaste of coffee turned bitter in Salazar’s mouth. He had thought that too while he’d waited for Ceinlys at the altar. “Well, my work here is done. Time to ride off into the sunset. You have a good one.” He hung up before he said something he shouldn’t…like, “Life never works out the way you imagined.”
The boy was still young. He’d learn soon enough.
* * *
When Iain came home, the place smelled strongly of cinnamon and boiling apples. From the way six piping hot pies lay on the counter, Jane had been busy.
“I’m home!” he called out, heading straight for the kitchen.
“Hi!” Jane rose to her toes to kiss him on the mouth. But her lips were anything but soft.
“You okay?” He searched her face. Not that he objected to all those apple pies—Jane made a mean pie—but she didn’t bake like this unless she was upset about something.
“It’s nothing.” Then she paused, as though she just remembered something. “Actually it’s my dad.”
“What did he do?” Wes was nice enough, but he could be a little obtuse at times.
Okay, he could be friggin’ stubborn.
“He’s sud
denly saying that maybe you should pay for the venue.” Her face flushed. “I don’t know why he made such a big deal about how he had to pay if he was just going to change his mind.”
Iain scratched the tip of his chin. “Maybe he realized it doesn’t matter who pays for the wedding, so long as you’re happy? That’s what I care about anyway.”
“Except I don’t think that’s what he cares about. When I told him we were going to use your family’s grove, he said that wasn’t a good idea and hung up!” She pulled another pie out of the oven. “What am I gonna tell Ceinlys? She’ll be so upset.”
“No, she won’t. Just tell her your father changed his mind.”
Iain knew Ceinlys would be relieved to hear it. It was always easier to plan an event with a bigger budget. Salazar should’ve convinced Wes to let Iain foot the bill for everything.
Ah well.
“But she chose the grove!” Jane was saying. “And it’s beautiful, available and free.”
“Yeah, but apparently we can’t use it.”
“Why not?”
“Dad said it’s been damaged or something, and won’t be in any condition to host a wedding ceremony by Christmas.”
“Oh no.” Jane wiped her hands with a paper towel and sighed. “I had no idea.”
“Anyway, it worked out for the best.” He eyed the pies. “So…do we have any ice cream?”
“Yes, but don’t even think about eating all of these yourself.”
“Why not? I could eat your pie morning, noon and night.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She laughed in spite of herself. “I want my man healthy and eating good, well-balanced and nutritious meals. And I’m sending four to your brothers and sister and two to your parents.”
Iain made a face. “Don’t appreciate ’em like I do,” he mock grumbled.
She patted the center of his chest. “I know, but that’s okay. You still love me.”
“That I do.” He took her hand from his chest and kissed the neatly trimmed fingers. “God knows I adore you.”
Chapter Ten
Ceinlys had never understood why people thought she was stupid. Was it because they assumed she was a gold digger? If so, they should’ve considered her an Einstein. Not only had she married a billionaire, she’d gotten two hundred million dollars out of the divorce despite an ironclad prenup.
