Devotion: The Beauty in Between (Beautiful Series book 4.5)

by Lilliana Anderson

  “So that’s it then – the Enzoani is ‘the one’?” the attendant asks with a smile.

  I nod. “Definitely. This is ‘the one’.” I turn around and look to everyone else. “Did you check out the bridesmaids dresses yet?”

  “We did,” Lisa says. “And we all really like this one.” She moves over to another rack and pulls out a lamé woven cocktail length dress. Underneath is a purple silk slip that is covered with a sheer black lace. There is beading and fine edge work around the v-neck and the hem. A strip of tulle ties it at the waist and all up, it looks very contemporary and elegant all at the same time.

  “I love it. I want one to wear on stage at the next concert,” I comment, reaching out to touch it lightly. “They’ll look gorgeous on all of you.”

  “We don’t have all the sizes here. But we can definitely order them in and have them properly fitted within the week if we put a rush on it,” the attendant says.

  I take another look at the wedding dress in the mirror. “This was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” I comment.

  “Purple is very ‘in’ right now. You chose a good time to get married,” the attendant informs me as she moves around taking the measurements of each bridesmaid.

  I can’t stop smiling as I look around the room. It’s starting to feel like this was all meant to be.

  “But what about the black lace? Isn’t black bad luck at a wedding?” Stephanie points out about the bridesmaid dresses.

  “I don’t believe in that shit, Steph. Besides, we’ll need someone with a little black to match Mrs Bailey,” I reply.

  “Hey, no mention of Cruella DeVille today, ok?” Lisa says.

  “Cruella DeVille - is that what you call her?” I laugh.

  Lisa smiles and nods, then holds her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. “Don’t tell anyone though. I even have the theme song as her ringtone,” she tells me with a wink.

  “Bullshit,” I laugh. “What are you going to do if she hears it?”

  “She won’t hear it. You don’t call people when you’re in the same room as them.” She shrugs, reaching out to touch one of the purple applique flowers on my dress. “This dress is absolutely stunning by the way,” she says.

  I reach out and hug her suddenly, causing her to freeze a little in surprise before relaxing in my arms. “Thank you for all of this. It really means a lot to me.”

  When we pull away, she’s wiping at her eye and waving me off like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing. Just go and get out of that dress. We have a meeting with the wedding planner after this.”

  Pressing my lips together, I smile at her and nod before turning to Stephanie and taking my phone from her so I can say goodbye to my mother before I get changed.

  “I can’t wait to get home. You’re father is really looking forward to walking his little girl down the aisle,” she tells me before we say our goodbyes, and I return to the change room to get dressed again before heading to the wedding planner with Lisa for what is supposed to be a very exciting afternoon…

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m sorry. Even with the list of locations you gave me, we just can’t organise it that soon,” Gail Warner, the wedding planner Marcus has hired for us says.

  “What do you mean you can’t do it?” Lisa demands. “You were told that this was to be held within a month when you were hired.”

  “I understand that. But, looking over this guest list, there isn’t a single venue in Sydney that can cater to a wedding this size at such short notice.”

  “Then pick a venue interstate,” I blurt out, getting caught up in the urgency of it all. “We have all the legalities taken care of. We just need a venue.”

  “So we’re talking ‘destination wedding’ now?” Gail asks as she taps at the keyboard of her laptop furiously. Her head shakes slowly from side to side as she purses her red lips and flicks her finger over the scrolling wheel of her mouse. “There!” she says suddenly. “There’s one place in Queensland. But it’s hurricane season up there. You could end up having the whole wedding evacuated.”

  Lisa immediately pulls out her iPhone and starts going through the extended weather forecasts for tropical Queensland. “This site lists the forecast for a month in advance. There’s just stinking hot weather up there at the moment,” she states.

  “Weather forecasts are hardly accurate. But if you’re willing to take the risk then I’ll book it now.”

  Lisa and I exchange glances and at the same time, we say, “Book it.”

  “Ok,” Gail smiles. “I’ll book it today and get all of these invitations printed and mailed express by tomorrow. I’ll also work through this list you’ve given me and see what we can and can’t do in time. You may have to make a few concessions. But I think, if we can get on this ASAP then we can definitely get this done in time.”

  We spend a bit more time working over the details of a destination wedding and leave with a list of things that we’ll need to give Gail by the end of the week, such as music choices, food choices and our chosen cake flavour (the cake is a no brainer – I want chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate).

  By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, and I still have to find the energy to practice our set list with the band. When I get home, I drag my way through the door to our garage studio and collapse onto the barstool that sits near my practice amp.

  “Hey,” Jack says from next to the drum kit where he’s talking to our drummer, Rob. He waves ‘hi’ too. I half smile and wave back.

  “How’s it goin’ Nomes,” Lachlan asks, looking up briefly as he plucks at his bass.

  “Alright,” I reply. “This wedding stuff is exhausting though. Did you guys sort out your tuxes today?” I ask as I open my violin case and pull out my fiddle.

  “Yep. Theo just had to stop off at some jeweller about your rings. He said to start without him if he wasn’t back by the time you got here.”

  I raise my hand to stifle a yawn as I nod, knowing he wasn’t back yet from the text he’d sent me earlier. “I’ll cue up the backing track,” I tell them. “So what kind of suits did you get?”

  “No way,” Jack says with a shake of his head and a crossing motion of his arms. “I don’t even know what the fucking protocol is, but I’m not going to be the one who causes you bad luck by blabbing about shit like that.”

  I grin. “Not that I believe in that stuff, but it’s supposedly bad luck for the groom to see the dress. Not for the bride to see the tuxedos or suits or whatever.”

  Lachlan presses his lips together. “Hmmmm. I’m not sure about that. But just know that he chose something that will make you happy.”

  “Yeah,” Jack adds. “And also know, that it doesn’t make me happy at all.”

  “It’s not that bad. I like them,” Lachlan retorts.

  “They’re suits, Lach,” Jack points out, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve never seen Jack in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt since I’ve known him. “But for you Nomes, I’m willing to look like an uptight twat.”

  “Awwww, Jack!” I grin, walking over to him and wrapping my arms as far around his neck as I can reach on my tiptoes.

  “Hey you two – no canoodling while I’m not around,” Theo says from the doorway as he walks in with Marcus right behind him.

  “Hey guys,” Marcus says.

  “So, how was your day?” I ask Theo eagerly.

  He grins. “Good. We sorted out our suits and I found these awesome rings for us.”

  “You chose the rings without me?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

  He notices and laughs. “Hey, trust me. You’ll love them,” he assures me with a wink.

  Marcus nods in agreement. “You will. They’re awesome.”

  With that, Marcus says a quick goodbye and leaves us to our practice. The band works on the set list for our upcoming tour until it’s almost midnight, stopping only for a quick meal before getting right back to work.

  When we finally crawl into bed,
we’re both beat. “This wedding and tour business is really wreaking havoc with our sex life,” I say, cuddling into Theo’s side as I lightly trace the details of the tattoo that covers his ribs. It features the music of the first song we wrote together. The song used to be unfinished and the tattoo ended in flames. But after we wrote the rest of the song, he’s had the tattoo altered with the rest of the music, and the lyrics to the song. And now the flames are covered with a guitar, a violin, and piano keys.

  He runs his fingers up and down my back gently. “I’m happy to lay here and get hard if you have the energy to ride,” he jokes, turning his head to press a kiss against my forehead.

  “No,” I murmur, my body feeling heavy as I lay against him. “I’m happy right here.”

  “Me too,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams, babe.”

  “Sweet dreams,” I think I reply. Although, I’m not so sure because before I know it, I’ve drifted off to sleep, dreaming about a wedding I can’t seem to get to.

  Chapter Nine

  When I open my eyes the next morning, it’s to a room filled with light and an empty bed. Slowly, I sit up, taking note of the time on the retro clock beside the bed. I watch as one of the black and white numbers flips over to count a new minute – 8:23.

  Swinging my legs out from under the sheet, I run my hands over my face and through my hair. The house is already feeling slightly warm. The heat of summer is definitely upon us.

  After visiting the bathroom and washing up, I walk through the house, enjoying the coolness of the floorboards beneath my feet. The faint smell of coffee floats past my nose so I know that Theo can’t have been up for too long. He’s most likely in the studio at the piano or on his guitar.

  I head over to the door that joins the house to the studio and turn the knob. Locked. My brow furrows. This door is never locked.

  Raising my hand, I knock. “Theo,” I call out, pressing my mouth close to the door jam so he can hear me. The studio is mostly sound proofed, but we never soundproofed this door so we could hear knocking.

  I only have to wait for a moment before Theo appears at the door and slides out of there, without letting me see inside.

  He grins at me, looking very pleased with himself as he blocks the door with his body, obviously hiding something.

  “What’s going on?” I ask slowly, narrowing my eyes at him as he tries to look nonchalant.

  “Nothing,” he replies immediately. Although he’s smiling, so I don’t believe him at all.

  I step back and place my hands on my hips. “Were you wanking in there?”

  A laugh erupts out of his chest. “No babe, I was not in there jacking off. I was in there working on something for you. Something I don’t want you to see yet.”

  I clap my hands together and bounce on my toes. “A surprise! I love surprises! Ok. Don’t tell me. I won’t ask a thing,” I say, passing my hand over my lips and twisting my fingers like I’m locking it with a key, before I wrap my arms around his chest and lean up to kiss his chin (which is the only part of him I can reach when I have no shoes on).

  “Alright, now piss off. I’ve got shit to do in here,” he jokes, giving me a light pat on the arse as I turn around to head into the kitchen to get something to eat.

  “You want a coffee with me before you go back in there, or are you too in the moment?”

  “I’m in the moment. But I’ll be out soon. I promise you’ll love it babe.”

  “I don’t have a doubt in my mind.”

  ***

  I spend some time going through our email and going over the wedding and tour plans. Both events are huge and take so much planning. But at least we have help with each of them – doing it all on our own would drive us both entirely insane.

  I approve a pdf proof of our wedding invites and then send through our set lists for the first leg of our tour. I also spend a bit of time going over our calendar to make sure that we don’t have any overlapping appointments and call Stephanie to talk to her about the dress she and Paige have been looking at for Amanda and Grace to wear as my flower girls. They’re both close in age and will look absolutely adorable walking down the aisle throwing rose petals from these little paper cones that are printed sheet music.

  So far, everything seems to be coming together nicely. Both the wedding and the tour plans seem to be moving along without a hitch. That is, until Theo comes storming out of the studio.

  “I need to go out,” he states, grabbing the keys to his bike.

  “What’s going on?” I ask in concern as I watch him slide his arms into his leather jacket and grab his helmet.

  He shakes his head. “My fucking parents. I just got a call from dad. I need to go deal with this.”

  “Well, wait and I’ll come with you.”

  He holds up his hand to stop me. “No, babe. I need to deal with this myself. This has all gone too far.”

  With that, he turns and storms out the front door, leaving me calling out after him for some sort of an explanation. “What are you talking about?!” I call from the doorway, although I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hear it over the sound of his bike engine roaring to life before he takes off down the street toward his parent’s house.

  ***

  Time moves by at a snails pace while Theo is gone. There isn’t much that I can do to occupy my mind besides play my violin. I go into the studio and stay well away from Theo’s area where he’s left his notebook out on the piano seat. As much as I’m curious to see what he’s working on, I really don’t want to ruin the surprise. So I just grab my violin case and head back into the main house.

  When I’m upset or worried, I generally revert back to my classical training. Today, I’m playing something a little more upbeat with the third movement of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. I play it over and over again, each time losing myself further and further into the music as my fingers fly over the strings and the bow slides back and forth furiously.

  I’m so absorbed that I don’t even hear Theo’s bike pull into the driveway and I don’t realise he’s here until the front door closes. I stop all of a sudden, my fingers slipping on the string as the bow strikes and releases a loud squeaking noise that causes both of us to wince.

  “Tchaikovsky, huh?” he says as he drops his keys on the table near the door and shrugs out of his jacket.

  “I was worried about you,” I state, setting my violin and bow on the couch as I move over to him. “Are you ok? What happened?”

  He runs his hands through his hair, damp from the heat of the day then shakes his head. “Mum doesn’t want to come to the wedding,” he says, meeting my eyes with a great look of disappointment in his.

  “What?” I ask disbelievingly. “What the hell is wrong with her? Is this because of me?”

  He steps toward me and takes my hands in his. “Don’t ever think this is because of you. This is all her. She’s the one behaving badly. Not us. Not you.”

  I step back, feeling as though I’ve actually been slapped in the face. “But it is because of me isn’t it? It’s because of what she saw?”

  Moving toward me again, he reaches out and gently places his hands on my upper arms. “Babe. Don’t let this get to you. You are my world. The only person I give a fuck about being at our wedding is you. If my mother wants to boycott it then there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I have bent over backwards for my family. My whole life I’ve tried to be a good son and a good brother. But the only thing that matters anymore is that I’m a good husband. Fuck them, Nomes. This wedding is about you and me. No one else.”

  Tears well in my eyes. I can’t believe we’ve been putting ourselves under so much stress because of that woman and now she’s turning around and refusing to be a part of this. “No,” I say in response, and Theo gives me a quizzical look. “No,” I repeat. “She doesn’t get to do this to you. Not this time.” I reach over to the table and grab my car keys off it.

  “Babe, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go over t
here and give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Don’t waste your breath. It’s not going to change anything.”

  “Maybe not. But it will make me feel better. I deserve the right to stick up for myself.”

  He nods. “Alright. But I’m going to drive you. Don’t go over there on your own.”

  Without waiting for me to respond, he reaches out and takes the keys out of my hands and heads for the door. Grabbing my handbag, I shove my feet into my black ballet flats at the same time, then head out the door after him and get into the passenger seat of my Rav4.

  “You sure you want to do this?” he asks as I buckle my seatbelt and look ahead.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Ok, babe. Ok.”

  Chapter Ten

  My heart beats faster the closer we get to Theo’s parents house. I’m tired of standing by and saying nothing while she badmouths me to Theo, and Marcus and Lisa. I know they stick up for me, but it’s high time I stuck up for myself. I kept quiet out of respect for their family. But if she can’t respect her son enough to support his choices, then I’m all out of respect for her. And the fact he’s driving me over there, means that Theo’s lost respect for them too. I think he’s finally reached the point where he won’t be pushed around by family politics anymore.

  The moment we pull into their driveway, I jump out of the car and storm up to the front door and beat my fist against the green wood.

  The door opens fairly quickly, revealing Mrs Bailey in her black mourning dress. My eyes roll all by themselves.

  “What you want?” she asks in stilted English, her eyes darting over my shoulder to see Theo coming up behind me. She breaks into Italian and directs her speech to him instead of me.

  “English mum. I’m just here to make sure you listen to what my fiancée has to say,” he tells her sternly.

  Her dark eyes return to me, filled with disdain, or disgust – whatever the hell it is she feels toward me.

  “Why won’t you come to our wedding?” I demand, wanting to hear her excuse for myself.