The Dream Wedding

by MJ Rodgers

  When it was over, Gene hit the off button.

  “Do you remember the last time you saw Natalie that night?” Michael asked him.

  Gene shook his head. “I was too busy supervising to pay much attention to anything else.”

  “What about you, Ginny?” Michael asked. “Do you remember the last time you saw Natalie?”

  “It was when she went upstairs to change. I was on my way to the kitchen to make sure there was still plenty of chilled champagne. Natalie was at the bottom of the stairs talking to Rory. She seemed a little upset. I think it was because he was pretty soused by then. Anyway, Sheldon strode up, and he and Rory had a few unpleasant words to say to each other.”

  “Did you hear what they were?”

  “No, I was too far away. But it was clear from the expressions on their faces that it wouldn’t have taken much for the two men to come to blows.”

  “What happened to prevent it?” Michael said.

  “Natalie stepped between them—like she normally did— and hustled Sheldon up the stairs with her, leaving Rory at the landing.”

  “Where did Rory go after that?”

  “When I left for the kitchen, he was still standing at the bottom of the stairs.”

  “And how long after that did you see Mrs. Ayton?”

  “It was probably just a couple of minutes later when I came out of the kitchen. Sheldon and Kuen were standing over her at the bottom of the stairs, Napoleon whimpering in Kuen’s arms.”

  “Was Sheldon still in his wedding clothes when he was bent over his mother?” Michael asked.

  “Part in, part out, I think.”

  “And you didn’t see Natalie anywhere?”

  “No.”

  “What about Rory Taureau?”

  “I don’t remember seeing him again. Gene and I left only a few minutes later.”

  “Thank you, Ginny, Gene,” Michael said.

  Briana stood and turned to them. “I really appreciate all your help.”

  “Any friend of Michael’s is a friend of ours,” Ginny said, sending Briana a big smile. “I do hope you get your memory back, Natalie. Out of all the people in that crazy household, you were the only one who acted normal. Seems strange for you to be the one to get amnesia.”

  Gene and Ginny saw Michael and Briana to the door. A few moments later, Michael was handing Briana into the helicopter.

  Briana thought about Ginny’s words as she buckled up: You were the only one who acted normal. Seems strange for you to be the one to get amnesia.

  Ginny didn’t know the half of how strange it was. Because the truth was, she didn’t have amnesia. She knew who she was.

  She was just no longer certain of who else she might be.

  “MY ATTORNEYS just sent over these papers,” Sheldon said as he pushed a thick brief toward Carlie. The papers slid to a stop in front of her on the edge of the ponderous desk in the equally ponderous study of the Ayton estate.

  Carlie barely glanced at the papers. She was irritated that Sheldon had sent a servant to fetch her, and that now that she was here, he didn’t even have the presence of mind to offer her a seat.

  When it came to even the minimum of social graces, this man was hopeless. She let out an internal sigh as she stepped over to one of the elaborate rococo chairs in front of his desk and gently lowered herself into it. She faced him, sitting straight and smiling pleasantly, determined to maintain her manners, despite the lack of his.

  “What is this all about, Shel?” she asked.

  Sheldon leaned forward on his elbows, his cold eyes fixed on her. “My lawyers tell me we’re going to need your help in order to get Natalie back.”

  “And how is it that I can be of help, Shel?”

  “By signing the petition in front of you. It will permit us to have her examined.”

  “Examined?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Natalie is your wife. Why is it that you want me to sign papers to have her examined?”

  “My lawyers say that if she is found mentally unsound, it can be argued that she was such when she married me. My legal claim as her husband, in that case, would not stand up in court. But your kinship as her mother would.”

  “So these papers you want me to sign will force her to be examined by a psychiatrist?”

  “By a court psychiatrist. And then she’ll be handed over into our hands, to be treated by someone of our choice. His name is Lars Neilssen. He’s a longtime friend of the family. I’m flying him in from his clinic in Glasgow. He’ll be here first thing Monday.”

  “You’re planning for him to take over her care if the court psychiatrist finds Natalie in need of help?” Carlie asked

  “Not if, Carlie. When. She’s obviously delusional. Once that’s been ruled legally, we’ll have a clear field to insist on her getting help by who we say, where we say.”

  Carlie shifted in her chair uncomfortably. “Shel, I can’t have Natalie committed.”

  Sheldon came roaring to his feet and circled around the desk. He towered over Carlie, his voice suddenly booming down at her like a cannon. “You think I want to have her committed? You think I’m taking any pleasure in trying to force her to get help?”

  “No, Shel, of course not. But putting her in some clinic—”

  “I’m not going to put her in a clinic, Carlie! I’m going to bring her home.”

  “Home? You mean here?”

  “Of course, here! Dr. Neilssen will stay here and treat her. He tells me they have some new drugs now that can do wonders. They will take away all the anxiety, all the pain, get her to listen to reason.”

  Drugs? Carlie swallowed uncomfortably.

  “Pumping Natalie full of drugs is not the way to get her back, Shel. I’m sure if I just spend some time with her I can help her to understand who she is and get her to accept her life again.”

  “And how are you going to get to spend that time with her? You told me she sent you away.”

  “I plan to go see her again.”

  “And what if she won’t see you?”

  “I’m sure she’ll see me.”

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  “Then we can think about what to do then. Shel, your mama’s accident has canceled all your honeymoon plans, anyway. And the doctors still don’t know if she’s going to pull through. Surely, you have your hands full enough worrying about her. There’s no reason to rush into any hasty decisions about Natalie just yet.”

  “No reason? Carlie, she’s my wife! She belongs with me! Who knows what that guy at that damn dream institute might be doing to her!”

  Yes, Carlie had suspected Sheldon would be worrying about that Dr. Michael Sands was an extremely handsome man. And from what she could see, he was obviously very protective of Natalie. Neither of those facts could have escaped Sheldon’s attention.

  “Natalie should be beside me,” Sheldon said, pacing in agitation. “In my home, my bed. We’re married, damn it! I’ve waited for her for months! I’ve never waited for a woman before in my life! I’m not waiting for her anymore!”

  “Sheldon, you can’t force her.”

  He whipped around toward Carlie. “Force her? Carlie, I worship her! I’d do anything for her! For God’s sake, can you really think I’d ever hurt her?”

  No, Carlie didn’t think he would. At least not intentionally.

  “Carlie,” he said, his voice losing its frantic tone as he came to kneel next to her chair. “You can’t be hoping that Natalie is going to come out of this craziness on her own?”

  “I don’t—”

  “No, of course you don’t Once we get the court to have Natalie put in Dr. Neilssen’s care, we’ll bring her here, and you can spend that time you want with her. As long as you like. I promise. But if you don’t sign the papers, she’ll stay out there. And she could get hurt. Do you want her to get hurt, Carlie?”

  “No.”

  “Then sign the papers. Let’s get her back home with us. Where she can be prot
ected and made well. Surrounded by her family, the people who love her. The only people in the world she can really count on.”

  Carlie sighed. Yes, about that Sheldon was totally right. There wasn’t anyone else in the world who cared for Natalie.

  She would be better-off home, wouldn’t she?

  Of course. She was better-off being made to realize that she was Natalie.

  Even if she didn’t want to be.

  Carlie reached for the papers—and signed on the bottom line.

  Chapter Eight

  Michael landed the helicopter on the rooftop of the tall Las Vegas building. He helped Briana out and then led the way to the elevator. All around them the skyline was aglow with the billion watts of electricity that lit the city like a gigantic desert Christmas tree every night of the year.

  Once they stepped inside the elevator, Michael pressed the button for the Lucky Seasons, the restaurant that occupied the entire tenth floor. He could feel Briana’s own special electrical charge zipping through him as he inadvertently brushed the back of her shoulders.

  “I’m very confused about this multiple personality business,” Briana said, turning to look up at him.

  “I’m no authority,” Michael admitted as he quickly stepped back from the lovely scent and beckoning warmth of her. “But the evidence seems to suggest that you have been living two very distinct lives—one real, one imaginary. Damian Steele should be able to say definitively if that’s what has been happening.”

  The elevator doors swished open, and Michael led Briana into the elegant restaurant, which was owned and operated by his friend. Whenever he was in town, Michael was certain he’d always find a table here and an excellent meal, despite the lack of a reservation.

  The maître d’ recognized Michael immediately, smiled broadly and showed him to his favorite table in a secluded alcove.

  Michael and Briana agreed on the evening’s specialty— roasted-onion-and-carrot soup, followed by veal rib roast with orange and rosemary, steamed asparagus topped with almond butter, and coconut-coffee parfaits with sesame-caramel sauce.

  The food quickly disappeared from both their plates. Michael attributed their good appetites to having just watched the Pettits’ tape, so full of tempting dishes.

  He watched Briana stir cream into her after-dinner coffee. When she tilted her head, the light from the chandelier sprinkled red sequins through her hair. As she looked up, their gazes met and he felt an unmistakable jolt. Her eyes were jade tonight, matching her outfit.

  She was incredibly lovely. Michael didn’t have to be touching her skin to feel its smoothness. Somehow the tips of his fingers remembered. Nor did he have to be kissing her to remember her taste. Her sweetness was still on his tongue.

  “I can’t get used to this, Michael.”

  “Used to what, Briana?” he asked, scrambling to gather his quickly scattering thoughts.

  “Being flown everywhere in a private helicopter. Walking into a five-star restaurant and being immediately seated without reservations.”

  “Natalie probably wouldn’t think a thing of it.”

  “I’m not Natalie.”

  Briana leaned over the table toward him, the sincerity in her eyes clear, unblinking. “Michael, I never had the money to go to college. I worked as a word processor during the day and went to trade school at night to learn architectural design. It took me forever to get a job. I was an apprentice at a design firm for five years before it folded. There weren’t any other openings anywhere. That’s why Lee Willix and I decided to go into partnership, to see if we could make it on our own.”

  “And you did,” Michael said.

  “After two years of fourteen-hour days and running in the red. Even then, my foolishness almost had us losing it all.”

  “I have difficulty imagining you being foolish.”

  Briana took a small sip of her coffee. Michael knew the frown on her face had nothing to do with its flavor.

  “Foolish doesn’t begin to describe it,” she said after a moment. “Rod was our biggest client. His main office was in Utah. He was living out of a Seattle hotel room. When he asked me out, I assumed he was single Three weeks into our torrid affair, a birthday card from his wife and three kids arrived for him at our office.”

  “And you told Rod and his business to take a hike.”

  “I wanted to, Michael. But if we lost Rod’s business, we would have been back in the red. Lee’s wife had just gotten pregnant. Lee begged me to find another way to handle it. We really needed the account.”

  Michael remembered his struggle to get the institute going during its early days. There had been plenty of money to be had—if one was willing to deal with certain people.

  Michael hadn’t dealt with those people, but he had felt the temptation. He understood Briana’s dilemma and knew he could accept any compromise she might have had to make.

  “I should have known it was too good to be true,” Briana continued. “Rod was rich, handsome. I was living in a fairy tale. I had convinced myself that he saw past my homely face to the person I was inside. What he really saw was a convenient conquest, someone to fool around with while he was away from his wife.”

  Michael was sad to hear Briana speak of this. He could tell that she had cared for Rod and had been hurt because she did. She struck him as a woman who was always totally open in her feelings and her dealings with others. Like everything else about her, her honesty and forthrightness were most becoming.

  “So how did you handle the bastard?” Michael asked, surprised to hear the sudden angry bite in his words.

  A twinkle lit her eyes, his only warning. “I asked him to start calling me Brian. I told him that my doctor had agreed to perform breast-reduction surgery on me, and that I’d already started taking male hormones to prepare me for my new life-style.”

  Michael roared at the unexpectedness of her response. Other diners turned toward their table, but he didn’t care. He was too delighted and relieved to learn that Briana was not the kind of woman to compromise her ethics—not for money, not even for love.

  “I can’t wait to hear how Rod took your news,” Michael said when he stopped laughing.

  “He suddenly found an urgent reason to rush back to Utah,” Briana said, her lips dancing into a smile. “He sent his assistant to Seattle to finalize the details on our design contract. The job went through without a hitch, although that assistant eyed me quite strangely for a while.”

  Michael loved looking at her lips in a smile. The next words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to edit them.

  “I don’t know what Natalie Newcastle is like, but getting to know Briana Berry is proving to be a real treat.”

  Her smile grew until it filled her eyes.

  God, they were great eyes—intelligent, open, witty, warm, honest.

  His logic told him that the experiences she had just related might be all in her mind. Illogically, incredibly, he just didn’t care. She was more real than any woman he had ever met.

  And he was in more trouble than he had ever imagined.

  “I’ve figured out why you aren’t marked, Michael.”

  He reminded himself he was a professional. He could handle this attraction for her. He must handle it.

  He tried to sound nonchalant. “Have you?”

  “Yep. It’s because some femme fatale broke your heart at a young and tender age.”

  He chuckled as he leaned back.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Briana asked. “What was her name?”

  “Mrs. Tigard,” Michael said. “She taught seventh grade. She had this exquisite English accent. The first day she read Wordsworth aloud to us, I fell madly in love with her. My rapture lasted until she graded my first composition.”

  “She failed you?”

  “No, she gave me a B. But it was her comment that killed the romance. I’ll never forget it. She said that ‘with a more mature handling of the subject matter’ I could have gotten an A.”

&
nbsp; “Ouch. The last thing an adolescent boy needs to hear from the older object of his affection is that he lacks maturity.”

  “It does pack a rather lethal punch.”

  “And you never again succumbed to this wondrous thing called love?”

  Michael detected a new note of seriousness in Briana’s question, one that belied her earlier light tone. She really wanted to know. And that was when he knew he wanted to tell her.

  “The women I meet are interested in marrying and having a family,” Michael said. “I’m convinced a person has to feel passionate about something in order to do it right. Passion clears away all the obstacles to a goal and makes the journey itself joyful. I have no passion for child-rearing.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the way you were raised?”

  “Probably. My parents didn’t want to accept the incredible commitment of time and energy needed to raise me. So they left it to others. We all learn by example. It took me a lot of years before I could forgive them for theirs. My job at the institute requires an intensive commitment of time and travel. I’m not repeating my parents’ mistake, taking on a job I can’t do right”

  “You’ve obviously made the right choice,” she said simply.

  Michael had been prepared for an argument. Every other woman he shared these feelings with had tried to change his mind, had tried to tell him he would change his mind. But once again Briana had surprised him.

  “I thought a woman didn’t respect a man who didn’t want to become a father?” he asked.

  “Life is full of wonderful, exciting, different paths. No one should be forced down one that isn’t right for him. You know fatherhood is not right for you. I respect that. The men I don’t respect are the ones who become fathers and then decide they made a mistake.”

  “Like your father?”

  She stared at her coffee cup, circling its top with her fingertip. “He wasn’t a bad man. He just didn’t understand that families don’t all end up with happy sitcom endings.”