by Starla Night
"Consider it the cost of the inspection. They spend so much time refilling their mugs in your office it gets them out of mine."
"And into my way. I need to finish the projections."
"Use Jasper's office."
"I can't—"
"Then go home."
Mal never sent anyone home.
The hurt she'd felt when Darcy had jumped away returned twice as hot and painful. She jutted her chin. "What about next quarter?"
"This is too important. Go before you get angry."
"Mal, you never choose emotion over the company."
"I have more to worry about now. Two companies. Cheryl's planet." He scrubbed his face. "Besides, I can't proceed with inventory without Jasper. Our VP role is essentially vacant. Pyro can't split his attention from Carnelian Clothiers or we'd get more than Chrysoberyl breathing down our necks. I can't leave Pyro's work to Chrysoberyl, for obvious reasons. And we're missing a security officer while Kyan's on his honeymoon. There's too much at risk for you to screw up now. Get out of here, Amber."
She turned and left.
This is what it would sound like if the dragon inspectors took away Mal's company. Get out of here, Amber. She'd forced herself on her siblings from day one. They'd never needed her. Never wanted her. She'd carved out a place where she thought she could be useful without overshadowing. But because of her own screw-ups, she'd lost even that.
Amber zoomed aimlessly around the small blue planet.
If the company got taken away, her brothers would be forced into the Colony Wars and killed. Even if they avoided that worst-case scenario, without the Onyx Corporation to unite them, they would spread across the galaxy once more.
She'd never go drinking with them for sure.
But she'd also never sit across a conference table listening to Mal rant, Pyro sneer, Jasper compromise, and Alex plot. She'd never see Kyan ghost through the building to extinguish a threat. She'd never get to present another meticulous budget projection or celebrate how it mirrored the actual spend.
All because of those dragon inspectors...
Amber flew faster. Turn off your thoughts. Just breathe.
She passed glittering cities in the star-filled night, dusty cities in the heat of day, millions of humans in their local attire working and eating and driving and jogging, meeting and kissing, parting and waving farewell. Foggy valleys, snow-capped mountains, glistening jungles, arid oceans.
The silent, alien landscapes seeped into Amber's heart and she found her calm.
Mal was right. Much more was at stake than Amber's feelings about being pushed out of her brother's company. Even if they elected to get rid of her, she would protect Darcy's planet and care for his family. They had kindly welcomed her. Getting their planet taken over would be a terrible way to pay them back.
Amber landed on Darcy's front lawn a few hours early to make the favors. She followed humans carrying white chairs and folded tables around the side of the house to the lush, landscaped backyard.
A man in dirty jeans and a T-shirt stood on a ladder clipping fragrant honeysuckle away from a garden arch.
Tara called up to him. "Stop! I want the vines trailing over my wedding arch."
"Sorry, miss, the owner wants us to move the arch to the house so your wedding has that turret behind it."
"I hate the nasty old turret! Please, just wait until she gets home."
"I'm sorry, miss. I told her moving the arch meant hacking the vines, and she said to 'chop-chop' and not to listen to any arguments."
Tara rested a half-filled wine glass against her forehead and moaned. She saw Amber and brightened. "Amber! Can you flame him to stop?"
"I'm sorry, Tara. Injuring a human would break the Dragon-Human Treaty and I'm already in trouble from the last incident."
"Aw." Her chin wrinkled. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "I thought it would be okay to have my woodland fairy wedding here. The garden's so lush. But Mom insists on turning it into a summer castle theme she swears I wanted. I don't even remember wanting that."
Amber channeled her newfound calm. "Could you compromise? Uproot the whole plant and take it with you to the turret?"
The man stopped clipping and descended the ladder to show them the thick, woody trunks. "This is not a one-man job."
"Maybe it's a one-woman job." Tara hunched. "Where would you dig the roots?"
"Honeysuckle is tough. Very forgiving." The man shook his head. "But you can't move this weighted arch without a crane."
Amber gripped one side of the arch and lifted it one-handed.
He gaped.
"She won the arm-wrestling contest with my sisters," Tara told him.
He closed his mouth, shook his head, and retired his clippers into his back pocket. "I will grab the shovel. Be right back."
"Tara, would you like to do arm combat to compete for Darcy?"
"I know to quit while I'm ahead. Besides, you can have him. You're good for him. I can tell."
Her heart warmed. "He's good for me."
Tara smirked. "I can't imagine why."
"Many reasons. But especially his cock. It brings me great—"
"Whoah!" Tara held up her dirt-smeared hands, laughing in surrender. "I'm happy for you two. I really am. I don't need the details."
The man returned and helped them dig up the honeysuckle and then Amber used both hands to fly the arch plus root ball over to its new home. Tara dug into the perfect lawn and planted the honeysuckle. She directed Amber to take the sod chunk and plant it in the disturbed honeysuckle earth.
"Now there's a fine arch and there's a grassy nook." Tara brushed her hands on her dirt-covered trousers. "A fairy can rest against the willow and read a book."
Kris sashayed around the corner of the house, lifting her hand and calling. "Tara? Tara, I've got news. Ooh, you moved the whole honeysuckle."
"Amber did."
"This will be so much better than my backup plan." Kris rubbed the leaves between her manicured fingers. "Which was renting Astroturf or a green screen."
A handsome man with close-shorn dark hair and a beard strode behind Kris. "I would edit in any setting you like. The greenery of the Shire."
"The fires of Mordor." Tara smiled, wrapping her arms around the man's shoulders, and melting into a sweet kiss.
He smiled through his kiss, and the worry lines around his eyes smoothed. "You are relaxed."
"Yes, well, it feels good to have something go my way."
"Hold that thought." Kris turned grim. "Tara, I hate to tell you this now, but someone called up your baker and canceled your cake."
Tara squeezed her eyes shut. "No."
"Yes, honey. The mystery woman impersonated you, and the only reason the baker agreed to it without charging a fee was because they'd overbooked themselves and were glad of the excuse not to make your cake."
Ed cradled her. "I've been calling around this morning. Everyone's schedule is filled. No bakery can take a special order by this weekend."
Tara gathered the strength to gesture. "Amber, this is my super awesome almost-husband, Ed."
Ed smiled and shook Amber's hand. He looked as though he hadn't slept well in a month. Superheroes decorated his bowtie. "Did you eat a baking soda taco?"
"It reminded me of home."
Tara stomped her feet. "Ed! Kris! I refuse to eat baking soda at my wedding. Not when we were supposed to have the best flavor ever."
He pressed her to his chest and stroked her back. "I know, lastachka. I know."
"What flavor was your cake?" Amber asked.
"Neapolitan. It's three flavors in one."
"She has the strawberry and I eat the chocolate," Ed explained while Tara nodded morosely. "We share vanilla. No other cake lets you give, receive, and share like Neapolitan."
"Which makes it perfect for a wedding, because it's all about giving, taking, and sharing to forge a new life together," Tara finished, while Ed nodded.
"Oh, is that the purpose
of a human wedding ceremony?"
"It's ours, which is what matters." Tara huffed and buried her face in Ed's collar again, muffling her cries. "And now it's ruined. Again. At this rate, we're going to be stuck with a grocery store cake."
"I know a baker," Amber said.
"Yeah, but is she available to bake a cake for this weekend?" Kris asked, phone plastered to her ear. "Oh, yes, hello? Hi, I'm wondering about your availability for a wedding cake this weekend for ... yes, this weekend. Yes. This Sunday. ... Please stop laughing..."
Amber flipped out her phone and dialed Pyro's number.
He answered with a growl. "This better be life or death."
"I need a wedding cake."
He was silent for a long, long minute. Then, he swore. "Is this why Darcy tried to call me? Where are you? How long do I have?"
"It's not for me. For Darcy's sister. She's getting married on Saturday."
He let out a breath in a sigh. "Seriously? You know I'm managing a hostile company here."
"And I know Amy's ex-roommate, Melody, diffused a hostage situation with a plate of cookies."
"Brownie bars."
"It would mean a lot to Darcy's sister, Pyro. She's getting married this weekend and a criminal impersonated her to cancel her Neapolitan cake, which is the symbol of human giving, receiving, and sharing."
"Is it? Okay, I'll ask. Amy wants to see her roomie anyway. And I need to talk sense into Darcy..."
They ended the call.
Amber turned to the trio and shrugged. "Maybe Melody can help."
"She diffused a hostage situation with a plate of cookies?" Kris repeated.
"My brother was in mortal danger. Melody lured away the criminal with baked goods."
"What's her bakery?" Kris asked.
"She's not a professional baker. She spends most of her time gaming with her boyfriend."
Tara and Ed looked at each other with new hope. Tara squeezed his hand. "It's meant to be!"
"Our wedding is game-themed." Ed tugged his tie. What she thought were superheroes were figurines and tokens. "It was supposed to be at the World Game Center."
"Which is where we met," Tara said.
"I challenged her to a game of chess and won."
"So I challenged him to a game of Freedom In the Galaxy and I won."
"But it took three days."
"He slept on the dorm couch for three days."
"She felt bad for me and invited me to her D&D group."
"And the rest is history." Tara lifted her engagement ring with a large central solitaire. "Lab-grown, twenty-sided."
Their synchronized communication inspired her. "You are well-suited for a happy life together."
The couple glowed.
Then, Tara's smile faded as she stared at the white chairs and tables. "We were on a waitlist for two years. I didn't even know Mom knew. And then, she erased our chalk display."
Ed whitened. "Our chalk display?"
Tara led him to a chest-high board cleaned with a bucket of soap and water drying in the sun. "I could have cried. She did it while I was in the bathroom."
Ed studied the bare board. His lips pinched in a white line.
Kris shook her head. "Your mom, Tara, is a trial by fire. If I get through your wedding, I can get through anybody's."
"Our best friend drew the welcome message," Ed told Amber. His words were clipped with anger. "She's out of the country and couldn't attend."
"It said this." Tara dug out her phone and showed Amber a welcome message. We rolled the dice and got lucky. "It was special to me."
Ed knelt in front of her and tucked a stray lock of hair out of her face. "We rolled the dice, Tara. Every day I'm happy to roll them with you."
She smiled tenderly.
Kris shook her head and tsked. "It will be hard to find an artist to put this right."
"I know an artist," Amber said. "I could ask her."
Everyone looked at her.
"You do?" Tara said.
"She's an award-winning graphic designer. Here's what she designed for us." Amber showed Cheryl's portfolio. Kris scrolled through, her features relaxing. "Our work stalled because of absences so she might have time. I could ask."
"These dragons are cute." Tara forwarded the picture of her board. "Ask if she can do something similar. If not, it's fine, and I will still be a million times grateful."
Amber dialed Cheryl's direct line and left a voice message. A few seconds later, Cheryl texted an agreement, and a few minutes later, a napkin sketch of her version which meant she was hiding in her office.
"She says yes, and here's her design for your approval." Amber passed the phone to Tara.
Her smile wobbled again. "Amber, you're a lifesaver."
"Thank you so much." Ed shook Amber's hand. "I've just met you and you've already saved our wedding twice."
Amber's chest swelled. "I helped?"
"So much." Kris gave her a one-armed hug. "Let me know if you need a job in the wedding planning business."
"I will," she promised because she didn't know how things would go with her—no, Mal's company. "I'll take her the chalkboard after work."
"Great, I'll hide it in my van so it doesn't conveniently disappear when 'someone' gets back from the flower market." Kris hurried the board around the front of the house.
"Yes!" Tara squeezed Amber in a quick hug. "Amber, as quickly as my plans are unzipped, you helped me zip them up again. I'm energized. Come, wash up and grab a glass of wine, and I'll show you how we're making the favors."
Amber accepted the hug feeling valued.
"Tara, there's an emergency!" A bridesmaid ran around the house, passing Kris. "Your hair and makeup artist just called. She's so angry about what you wrote in online reviews that she's canceled."
Tara rested on her heels. "But I didn't write any reviews."
Kris called, "Of course you didn't, honey. Amber, you know any makeup artists?"
A colorful artist leaped to mind. "Actually, I do know an expert I could call."
"Please." Tara hugged her again. "You are my personal hero. A good fairy sent you to save me. Thank you, my hero!"
Amber would help. Darcy's mom would see how hard she was trying to make a beautiful wedding for her daughter. Unlike Amber's brothers, who tried to get rid of her, Darcy's family pulled her in. Darcy would be so proud of her for being accepted by his sisters so fast. And with this effort, she would impress Darcy's mom.
And then Gayle would love Amber, too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
On Thursday morning, after Amber dropped Darcy at his house for a quick change and shower, he came downstairs and found his mom in the kitchen slamming cupboards and throwing cups into the sink.
"Mom, are you okay?"
She ignored him, muttering.
Nicole sat at the kitchen table eating a fat-free yogurt. "Dad said if she didn't stop spending money on Tara's wedding, he'd put the business into bankruptcy, buy himself a case of beer, and hop a plane to Aruba."
"Ah. Mom, I'm sure he was kidding. We're not that close to bankruptcy. Probably. Maybe you should go lie down."
She stopped and glared at him. "You think I should lie down and take a nap while your father abandons his family and starts drinking?"
"If it's one case in twenty years, you don't have to worry about it becoming a habit."
"Yes, because for twenty years I stopped him from making a big mistake. Just like I mean to stop you from making a big mistake. And all of my children. Tara, for instance." Mom turned back to the cabinet, seething at the organized breakfast cereal. "Tara's blinding herself to what she wants by catering to a man who isn't even her husband."
"Yet." Darcy grabbed a breakfast bar from the cabinet above her. "But—"
"And I know what she really wants. Yes, I do. Me. Her mother. And what are weddings about?"
"Marriage."
"Family," she corrected. "Mothers and daughters planning dream weddings together. But who's Tara
consulting? Kris, her former roommate. At least I got her downgraded from maid of honor! How dare she take Jackie's place?"
"The nerve," Nicole said flatly, scraping the inside of the yogurt cup.
"Yes! The nerve of her to overlook her own sister at such an important event. She was the maid of honor at Jackie's wedding. It's only right Jackie be her maid of honor."
"And I've been in zero wedding parties."
Mom ignored Nicole's complaining as usual. "This is my time with Tara. Not that Ed. Certainly not a roommate."
Darcy tried to comfort her. "Well, Mom, Amber says you can spend all the hours you want on my—"
"What's Tara thinking? I have to make her see. First to go is that broach bouquet. Then, of course, the chalk sign, and also her ridiculous favors. She needs Jordan almonds. That's what your father and I had, and that's what's proper."
"Amber and I can—"
"And how can she insist that she doesn't want sunflowers? I have to finalize my order today. Even if I have to remortgage the house, Tara's getting her dream ceremony."
Realizing that she wasn't listening, Darcy also tuned out.
His mind turned to Amber.
This morning in the county records office, while verifying their identification and promising to marry in the next sixty days, she'd glowed.
They could waive the three-day waiting period by paying an extra five dollars, but Amber really wanted a ceremony planned by his mother. He was fine with whatever so long as he could slip a ring on her finger and say, "I do."
Their rings should arrive any day now. The jeweler promised to call the instant they arrived. Darcy would—
His mom cupped his cheek, shaking him from his reverie. "You can do that for me, can't you, Darcy?"
"Hmm? Yeah." He hugged her. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. You'll get the chance to throw your dream wedding."
She brightened. "Yes, I've almost pulled it off. Aside from a few hiccups with the flowers and that disappearing chalkboard. Just promise me that you won't let your little indiscretion go any farther."
"I promise."
Mom hugged him. "I knew I could count on you. You'll always be my little boy."
"Yep." He patted her back, towering over her.
"I feel light as a feather." Mom released him and, with new vigor in her step, headed outside.
