All I Need Is You aka Wedding Survivor

by Julia London

  When her mom had disappeared out the back door, Marnie looked at Eli. “You brought Bingo biscuits?” she asked. Eli shrugged sheepishly. “That was so sweet, Eli,” she said, and gave him a smile that emanated from somewhere near the bottom of her heart.

  “It was nothing. Just a couple dog biscuits.” He stood up, checked her out with one brow cocked above the other, his blue eyes shining appreciatively. “Nice dress,” he said. “You ready?”

  “Yes. Can we take the BMW this time?”

  “Why?”

  She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t think she could get in the cab of that truck with this dress, so she said, “Because your truck is too bouncy.”

  “Bouncy?”

  “Yes, bouncy,” she reiterated as she stood up. “Every little bump in the road makes me bounce.”

  “Well, yeah,” Eli said, looking a tiny bit perplexed. “It has a very stiff suspension for all the obvious reasons.”

  There was nothing obvious about Eli McCain or his truck, and besides, she didn’t really know what a stiff suspension was and was too embarrassed to ask. “Yes, obviously,” she said, as if she knew what she was talking about. “But is it okay if I drive this once?”

  He sighed, pushed his fingers through his dark-gold hair, and Marnie could imagine him standing at some split-rail fence in Texas, one foot on the railing, taking off a cowboy hat to shove that hand through that hair, then putting it back on again, real slow. And maybe a long blade of prairie grass between his teeth—

  “Are we waiting for something?” he asked, interrupting her cowboy fantasy.

  “No! No, let’s go,” she said, and stooped to say good-bye to Bingo. So did Eli.

  Eli started griping about her driving the minute she pulled out of the drive. Granted, she had not seen Mr. Simon walking his dog behind her, but she had stopped in plenty of time for him to get out of the way. They motored up Rimpau Boulevard, past LA High School. “That’s where I went to high school,” Marnie said as they drove past. “Right over there,” she said, pointing to a street behind the high school, “is where I had my first kiss. Brett Lipshitz.”

  Eli laughed. “With a name like that, you might think he wasn’t very good at it.”

  “He wasn’t,” Marnie said. “He made out like a fish. I was very disappointed and swore to all my friends I’d never kiss a guy again.”

  “And?”

  “And?”

  “Did you ever kiss a guy again?”

  She smiled coyly and punched the brakes for a red light. “Maybe a couple,” she admitted with a grin. But none as good-looking as you, Cowboy. She stole a glimpse of his lips. She imagined him standing beneath a big Texas moon, those blue eyes gazing down on her, those fabulous lips of his pursed…“What about you? Kiss many girls?”

  “Maybe a couple. And the light is green,” he said.

  Marnie jerked her gaze to traffic that was already moving and hit the gas, making Eli buck in his seat. His hand snaked up and caught the handle above the passenger window.

  Marnie laughed as she swung a wide left onto the boulevard. “Are you scared?”

  “No. I’m terrified,” he said, and winced as Marnie darted around a bus and sped past it.

  “Not to worry,” she said reassuringly. “I’ve been driving in LA traffic for almost twenty years and I haven’t had an accident yet.”

  “What about tickets?”

  “Oh yeah,” she snorted. “Tons.” She changed lanes again.

  “That’s not making me feel any better,” Eli said as Marnie turned onto La Brea to shoot up to Wilshire Boulevard.

  “So do you really know Tom Cruise?” she asked, looking at him while she shifted lanes again, and noticing that he was now gripping the console between the seats, too.

  “I worked a couple films with him, that’s all.”

  “You’re very closemouthed about the movie business,” Marnie opined, hoping a little reverse psychology might result in some good dirt on Mr. Cruise.

  Now Eli glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but only briefly before he quickly turned his attention to the road again. “I’m not closemouthed. You wanna watch where you’re going?”

  “I am watching where I’m going.”

  “Well, when you get to Bel Air—and it appears we will reach it in record time—you’re gonna want to turn onto Stone Canyon Drive.”

  “So you’re not going to talk about it?” Marnie asked as she sped up Sunset.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Who you know. Who you don’t know. What you do.”

  “Why are you so interested?”

  She braked for a red light and gripped the wheel. “I don’t know. I guess I’m warming up to you,” she said with a sly wink. “I’m starting to wonder if there is more to Eli than a general revulsion to weddings.”

  He frowned at that instead of laughing, as she expected. “I don’t have a revulsion.”

  “I think you do,” she said, and playfully poked him in the side.

  “Look,” he said sharply, “can we just keep the conversation to the job at hand?”

  His reaction stung her, and Marnie quickly withdrew her hand and shifted her gaze to the road in front of her. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was bothering you.”

  Eli sighed, relaxed his grip of the console, and looked at Marnie. “You’re not bothering me,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I was so…”

  “Mean?”

  “Mean,” he admitted. “It’s just that I think we ought to keep our personal lives separate from this gig, that’s all.”

  “Why? Why keep our personal lives separate? You know an awful lot about mine, I’d like to point out. Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to do anything with the information, it’s just a way to know you better, so you know…we work together better, and—”

  “Not a good idea,” he said, quickly cutting her off.

  What was with this guy? One minute he was giving her warm fuzzies, and in the next minute he was cold as ice, making her believe she was an enormous pain in his ass. It made her so crazy that she abruptly demanded, “What is the matter with you, Eli? Don’t you have any friends?”

  “Of course I have friends, but if you let the personal stuff mix with work, you run a risk…”

  “A risk of what? Being human?”

  “Of allowing people to get under your skin. To poke you. To make you uncomfortable when you’re trying to work.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, but suddenly remembered that Daichi, the Star Trek guy in her office, had once told her she was on his last nerve when she was just trying to be friendly. Maybe she was really bugging Eli. Maybe her thoughts of being seduced by her boss were too out there, she thought with much disappointment.

  They didn’t talk about anything but traffic until they reached Bel Air—Eli made a lot of comments about her driving, and Marnie just drove faster. In Bel Air, she followed his instructions until they arrived outside a very simple stone gate that she recognized. Eli jumped out of the car and went round, punched in a code, then got back into the car. Marnie slipped the Beemer through, and Eli told her to wait until the gate had closed behind her. When he was certain it was closed, Marnie drove on.

  This time, they drove to the front of Vincent Vittorio’s mansion, a big Mediterranean-style house that had to be ten thousand square feet at a minimum. “Wow,” she said, as she parked the car on the circular drive. “He lives here by himself?”

  “Hell if I know,” Eli said, and got out of the car and came round to the driver’s side like a gentleman to help Marnie out. She paused to straighten her dress, and then the two of them went to the front door.

  They were greeted at the door by a small Asian man. “Hallo, Mr. Mac,” the man said with a quick nod.

  “Hello, Steve. Vince said he’d be around. Do you know where he is?”

  “Yes, Mr. Mac. He’s by the pool.”

  “Thanks. We’ll just go on out if that’s okay with you.” />
  “Yes, yes, okay,” he said, nodding enthusiastically and opening the door wider.

  They walked through a tiled entry and into a living area with twenty-foot cathedral ceilings. At one end of the room was a massive fireplace in front of which were two leather couches, four overstuffed armchairs, and a large coffee table that looked as if it had been carved from a tree. Big, thick rugs covered the tile floors. The back wall of the room was windows and doors—six floor-to-ceiling windows and three sets of French doors in all—overlooking a sparkling pool and pristine lawn.

  Eli walked across the room, opened a pair of French doors and looked back at Marnie, who was taking her sweet time moving across Vince Vittorio’s living room, trying to absorb as much of it as she could.

  “Sprain your ankle, slowpoke?” Eli asked, and stepped outside.

  Marnie really wanted to check out the framed pictures that graced the built-in bookcases but reluctantly followed Eli. As she stepped outside onto the tiled porch, she saw that the pool was the popular lagoon style—made to look as if it were some wild pond. At one end, the pool disappeared over the edge—she wasn’t quite sure how that happened, but it literally looked as if it spilled over the edge. On the other end was an airy loggia—a roofed gallery, open on the sides and enclosed with sheer silk drapes that lifted on a breeze. Inside the loggia was a chaise longue—double wide, she noted—as well as a bar and a smattering of padded deck chairs. It was like walking onto an American Classic Movie set.

  The only thing missing was the leading man and woman. “They’re not here,” Marnie said, looking around.

  “They’re here,” Eli said, and when she looked, he nodded to the end of the pool that seemed to disappear. There, in the corner, she saw two bobbing heads, face-to-face. “I’m gonna venture a wild guess here and say they made up,” he said, and winked at Marnie before he called out, “Vince!”

  One head turned from the other. “Oh, hey, Eli. Great! You’re here.” And the two floating heads moved languidly to the side. Vince was the first one to climb out.

  He emerged completely and utterly naked.

  Marnie sucked in her breath—her first instinct was to look the other way, but then good sense took hold—she was standing near a naked Vincent Vittorio and she wasn’t going to look? Like hell!

  She looked. Wow. That was so disappointing.

  Vince grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his disappointing self, and Marnie looked away. Only her gaze landed on Eli, who was looking at her with one eyebrow of his arched high above the other. Marnie shrugged, her hands out, palms up, in the international sign of what?

  But Eli’s brow came down into a V, and in a huff she turned away—just in time to see Vince give Olivia a hand up. She rose out of the water gracefully and strolled with her Brazilian bikini wax to a chaise to get a towel.

  Marnie looked at Eli.

  Eli was looking at Olivia.

  But when Olivia picked up a towel, Eli glanced at Marnie and smiled. She gave him a slight frown, just as he’d given her moments ago. But Eli merely winked as Vince walked into their midst, shaking his head and scrubbing his fingers against his scalp to make his hair stand tall.

  Marnie noticed that without his boots, he was even shorter than she’d previously thought, and once again, she was made to feel like an amazon next to another human being.

  “Say listen, Eli, I’m glad you could drop by,” Vince said, lifting a couple of fingers to Marnie, which she guessed was his way of saying hello. “I think we’ve got a little problem.”

  “Oh yeah?” Eli asked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t know they had a problem already, and its name was Marnie Banks. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?” he suggested.

  “Yeah, come on,” Vince said, and he and Eli started toward the loggia.

  “Hi, Marnie!” It was Olivia, who’d arrived at the group powwow now that she had a towel wrapped around her tiny little body. “I love your dress. That’s so cute—where’d you get it?”

  As she was not about to admit she got it at Ross Dress for Less, Marnie said, “You know, I don’t remember. But thanks.” Her smile was only halfhearted, because she was certain Vince had already begun to tell Eli he didn’t want her on the job anymore.

  “We should go shopping at this cute place I know on Montrose. I think you’d really like it,” Olivia said as she wrung water out of her blond tresses.

  “I’d love that,” Marnie said weakly, knowing that Olivia was just being polite. Olivia would not shop with her after they fired her.

  “Come on,” Olivia said, linking her little kiddie arm through Marnie’s. “I’ve got an oatmeal shake in the fridge. You want some?”

  “I, ah…I don’t think so,” Marnie said, but allowed Olivia to tug her into the loggia. She pointed to a chair Marnie could sit in, and walked around to the other side of the bar, bent down, then popped up again with a big pitcher full of oatmeal. Really. It was oatmeal.

  “Eli, you want an oatmeal shake?”

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Marnie?”

  “I’ll pass—”

  “No you won’t. You’ll love this stuff,” she insisted and poured two glasses, and smilingly handed one to Marnie.

  “So where are we at, guys?” Eli asked, leaning up against the bar, and for a split moment, Marnie imagined him in a saloon, a six-shooter at his side, his hat pulled down low.

  “Look, I’ll just get right to it,” Vince said, settling in a chair and crossing one leg over his knee so that Marnie had an almost unobstructed view of his less-than-impressive genitalia. “You’re not going to like this, but I think we need to make some changes.”

  Oh boy, here it came. I want you to fire her ass, Eli. She’s meddlesome and she’s not that good a wedding planner.

  “Like what?” Eli asked, appearing completely unconcerned.

  “We want to get that arch up there,” Vince said, and hadn’t finished his sentence before Eli was moaning. “Hey, I know it’s a big deal, but Livi really wants it, and I’m willing to pay for it. Besides, I figure we’re trucking up china and linens and…and what else was it?” he asked, looking at Marnie.

  “The lighting equipment?”

  “The lighting equipment?” Eli echoed.

  “Yes, Eli,” Olivia said. “Rose and amber lights will make everything so pretty. Everyone does it.”

  Eli looked, predictably, unconvinced.

  “So anyway,” Vince said, “I figure we got a couple truckloads on their way up, and I think we just strap that arch on the back of an eighteen-wheeler and haul her up there, too.”

  “Vince,” Eli said, not looking quite so calm and collected now. “It’s a logistical nightmare.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said apologetically, and glanced at Olivia, who smiled sweetly at him as she sipped her oatmeal shake through a straw.

  “That’s really going to cost us time and money,” Eli added.

  “Not a problem. I’ve got nothing but time or money when it comes to Livi.”

  “You’re so sweet, Vince,” Olivia said, and beamed at Marnie.

  Marnie smiled back, wondering what happened to the reasonable guy she met a couple of days ago who said they weren’t going a dime over a million five.

  Eli sighed. “Okay,” he said. “But on a couple conditions: you plan on setting up a pavilion tent in case of rain, and you hold the invite list down to a manageable number. No more than two hundred.”

  Vince looked at Olivia. Olivia looked at her oatmeal and shrugged. “Deal,” he said.

  “I’m glad that’s settled,” Eli said, and stood up. “You need to chat with Marnie? I can get a cab.”

  “Oh, that would be great. I wanted to talk about the tables,” Olivia said.

  “No problem.” Eli gave Marnie a very self-satisfied smile. “I’ll call a cab, then. Marnie, you want to walk me out?”

  That was it? The whole big breakup and Marnie-is-so-fired was over like it never happened in the first place? “Right
,” she said uncertainly.

  “Just come on back here when you’re ready,” Olivia said, who had moved to sit on Vince’s lap, seemingly unaware that her towel was slipping.

  Marnie thankfully put aside her oatmeal shake and walked out with Eli.

  At her car, she asked, “Are you sure you want to take a cab? I could drive you—”

  “Ah, no,” he said instantly. “No thanks. I think I prefer to take a cab.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I gotta couple things I need to do this afternoon, but maybe we can catch up later.”

  “Sure,” Marnie replied, her thoughts still on Olivia and Vince. “I don’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “Do you believe it? It’s over, just like that. The whole ugly scene is over. It’s like it never happened.”

  “It didn’t,” Eli said with a grin.

  But Marnie shook her head again, ignoring Eli’s amused smile. He might be used to the roller coaster they were on, but it still baffled her. As he called for a cab, she dipped into her backseat and pulled out her wedding organizer. When she stood up again, Eli had put the phone away and was standing there with his weight on one hip, his arms folded across his chest, looking very sexy in a very Texas way. “So…you think you can finish up here? Or will Vince’s package hold you spellbound all afternoon?”

  Despite her instant blush, she laughed carelessly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

  “I wouldn’t know—I didn’t look. Should I be?”

  “Well, that’s very hard to say,” she said, her smile going deeper. “I don’t have many other, ah, packages, as a point of comparison.”

  He gave her a very lopsided, sexy smile. “That’s a shame.”

  It was a shame, all right. And here he was, this splendid specimen of man, giving her warm fuzzies again. If there weren’t such a tropical heat climbing through her at the moment, she’d remember that he was a little on the schizo side. But damn, the heat he generated in her was a surprisingly nice feeling—so nice, in fact, that Marnie impulsively forgot everything he’d said about poking earlier and shifted her weight to one hip. “We had a bet, you know.”