Wedding Date with the Billionaire
Page 10
“My dress is a little loose in the chest. Can I get an alteration?” Amber asked Suni. The bridesmaids’ gowns were short-sleeved V-neck style on top, leading to a bias-cut skirt. Erin’s was embellished with pearl piping to differentiate her maid of honor status. She’d been relieved that with Christy’s tendency to dress over the top, the gowns weren’t too gaudy. Although the neon-violet fabric wouldn’t have been Erin’s choice.
“Yes, we’ll have someone here to do a final check on everybody.”
As the bridesmaids moved toward the food, Erin gave herself one more stare down in the mirror. She’d continue to try to elude those difficult questions the girls had asked since she’d likely never see Kento again after this weekend. And she’d have no real reason to go to Japan. The thought of that was so profoundly somber it turned her perfectly made-up face to ash.
* * *
“Here comes the groom!” Kento and the groomsmen sang to the tune of “Here Comes the Bride” as Lucas exited the changing room in his tuxedo. The men’s dressing room was a large space with tan-colored carpeting and comfortable furniture upholstered in several shades of brown. A central area was surrounded by tall mirrors arranged in a semicircle so that ensembles could be inspected from every angle. With three groomsmen, one best man, one groom and six mirrors, there was a lot of male energy in the space.
Lucas looked every bit the proper groom in his black tux with its violet cummerbund and tie, the color chosen by Christy to match her bridal party’s dresses. The tailor checked Lucas’s fitting and pinned a few alterations here and there. The rest of the men had been checked over in their tuxes that echoed the violet tie but sans the cummerbund. They were back in jeans and T-shirts for the time being. Their boutonnieres were laid out on a table, a pale purple rose surrounded by lilac tied with a plaid bow, a nod to the rustic surroundings. Kento’s had two roses to denote him as the best man.
The groom’s hair had been styled stiff from the multitude of products no doubt employed, but it would stay put for the many photos in the outdoor elements. Kento had allowed the hairdresser to add a bit of hold to his mane. He didn’t know Lucas’s attendants prior to this weekend, although they were a jovial enough bunch. Demarcus Hall was a buddy from basketball coaching, Hart Westlake was a work colleague and Griffin Meyer a family friend. The latter two were married, their wives in attendance.
Kento attended to some work via his phone. Numbers were just coming in on the Fastracc revenues, and they were even better than he expected. The staff had worked hard on the project, and he authorized a salary bonus to the team.
“What’s with the rabbit food?” Hart chided when Suni brought in their lunch.
“These are foods for high energy. Here at Locklear Lodge, we want to do everything we can to foster the participants’ well-being on wedding day. There’s a spinach salad with avocado, walnuts and dried goji berries. And grilled chicken breast. All energy-boosters.”
“Hey, Suni,” Demarcus chimed in, “how about some double bacon cheeseburgers? That’ll give us plenty of pep.”
She raised her eyebrows at him in a good-natured way. “Dark chocolate to finish with and green tea to drink.”
Hart pitched, “How about some cold beers?”
Even mild-mannered Griffin joined the fun with, “And a nap. A nice long nap would give us loads of vim and vigor.”
“I can’t promise a nap—” Suni shrugged “—but you can have whatever you want to eat and drink after the ceremony.”
Kento smiled at their carrying on, but his mind was elsewhere.
“What’s up?” Lucas noticed Kento’s pensiveness as the others helped themselves to the food. The two had formed a strong bond in high school and university years and kept in touch, but with calls and texts that became less frequent as time went on. It was an honor that Lucas had asked him to stand at his side when he married his beloved. “Everything right with you and Erin? You hadn’t even told me that you two were in communication.”
“Absolutely right.” He forced a bright answer.
Things were actually a little too right with her. That was the problem. He didn’t like how the combination of blazing lovemaking and the forever after sentiments of this wedding were making him feel. They were causing him to second-guess. And that was not something he did. Kento was a man of conviction. That’s how he built his empire. He never put out a product before it was ready. Never made a miscalculation. Never regretted hiring or firing an employee. Just the same, he’d gotten on the plane to Seattle with the certainty that relationships, and definitely marriage, would never, ever be in his future.
Finding that Erin hadn’t betrayed him in the way he’d always assumed she had, his brain short-circuited while it tried to sort true from false, impossibility from opportunity, head from heart. While the tailor attended to Lucas’s tux, Kento stared at himself in one of the full-length mirrors. What was on Erin’s mind right now while she got glammed up with the girls? Was she thinking about him?
This time Mr. Sure of Himself was anything but.
* * *
The best man and maid of honor strode toward the altar. While doing so, Erin forgot for the tiniest moment again that she was wearing a shocking violet gown and not a white one. That the guests assembled had not brought the toasters and china place settings for her. That the breathtaking man whose arm she was holding wasn’t about to become her mate. Husband suddenly sounded like the sweetest word she had ever heard, and yearning flooded through her.
As they had rehearsed, they moved in measured increments. Instead of a fabric runner, the aisle they walked down was delineated by a carpet of moss that was pretty but actually not that easy to navigate. Erin’s heels kept getting tangled every few steps, and Kento had to disguise his little tugs that helped her from falling and being ensnared by the greenery. They moved on pace toward the archway altar that was now completely covered in cascading wisteria. She’d figured that with Seattle’s frequent rain they’d use a marquee tent for shelter, but instead it was a dry day and it had been decided that the ceremony could be held in the open air. There were clouds, but sunlight peeked through them. A flutist played from a nearby bench. Guests sat on both sides of the aisle, on rows of white chairs dressed with white cushions in the center of the extensive lawn, the lodge’s forest of trees behind the altar framing the space.
When they reached the arch, Kento and Erin parted toward their respective sides. An involuntary wince shot through her after separating herself from him. It was wrong that she was starting to like being with him more than being without him, and she knew it. Those inclinations could only lead to more agony, and hadn’t the two of them suffered enough by each other’s doings?
The bride and her enormous dress, with a skirt full enough to house four small children under it, minced slowly up the aisle, accompanied by her father. Now standing next to the three bridesmaids, Erin reflected as she watched Christy approach. All that had happened with Kento still felt unresolved—many misunderstandings, many mistakes made. And most significantly, both of them wore so many scars from the past they’d been completely disfigured by them. Even if she thought she could open up to something ongoing with him again, to try to heal, he’d made it abundantly clear that he couldn’t. Glancing over, she noticed her mother seated in one of the rows of chairs, talking to someone Erin couldn’t see due to the tall woman with a big hat who sat in front of her.
With Lucas beaming, Christy detached from her father and joined her groom to face the wedding officiant. Erin took the bride’s bouquet as had been rehearsed.
They were just not meant to be, her and Kento. She had to accept it. Maybe in another lifetime, not this one. She knew that she should take charge of the situation by not making it any worse, not getting any closer. Under no circumstances should she make love with him again. It had been too perfect, too moving, too life-affirming. The least she could do is spare them getting any further
invested in each other, which would make tomorrow’s separation even more harrowing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Christy and Lucas,” the officiant began.
The ceremony progressed quickly. Or was it that Erin’s focus drifted in and out from the long rhyming poem written and read by an older uncle of Lucas’s?
This day begins our start, in the waters we shall chart
Holding hands we now depart, as I keep you in my heart
You are my work of art, sharing wisdom we impart
If we fight we will restart, we must be smart, for life is sweet but sometimes tart
May we never be apart, for you are my...counterpart.
Christy dabbed away a tear.
Erin glanced over to Kento, who closed his eyes and mimicked his head dropping sideways as if he had fallen asleep, making it hard for her not to laugh.
The conventional vows were spoken, and soon enough Erin was reunited with Kento’s arm, firm and strong, and they receded down the aisle.
Guests were directed to the grand ballroom inside the lodge for the reception. There was a photo call for the bridal party, as Christy had gone the traditional route of not letting Lucas see her in her dress until she walked down the aisle. They were sequestered in an area prepared for the task, with all sorts of flower arrangements on pedestals set against the backdrop of tall green trees.
Suni assisted the photographer with his groupings.
“When do we get to eat?” Kento whispered into Erin’s ear. “Did you have those salads when you were getting dressed? Nice, but I’m starved.”
“I can’t eat until the photos are done. It might muss up my lipstick.”
“I’d like to muss up your lipstick,” Kento let fly. The electric thrill that shot through Erin’s body was a charge that could have lit up Seattle. He needed to stop being so unrelentingly sexy. A girl could only take so much.
She forced out what she wanted to say, though with limited conviction. “I don’t think we should do any more...mussing, if you know what I mean. You’re leaving tomorrow, and we’ve gone far past the playacting we agreed to participate in.”
“Oh, that’s right, we were supposed to be pretending, weren’t we?” he responded with a bitter sort of undertone she didn’t exactly understand.
“I mean, we’ve both made it clear we have no interest in relationships. Especially after our past together. But my plan may have backfired.” She saw no reason not to be honest with him again. “The more time we spend with each other, the more I question...”
“Okay, I’ll need everyone lined up for a group shot,” the photographer called.
Wasn’t Kento feeling the same thing—that every second they were together was going to make it harder and harder for him to board that plane? She was willing to state that out loud. How would withholding words serve her at this point? She might have thought she could pull off this charade, but she’d underestimated the influence Kento still had over her. And it had become impossible to distinguish what was real and what was fantasy. She was dreading having to say goodbye so soon tomorrow. Although it was for the best.
With the photos finally completed, everyone except the bride and groom, who would be formally announced as a married couple, was seen into the ballroom.
With smiles left and right, the best man and maid of honor said hello to many of the guests in the large ballroom. Hors d’oeuvres were passed on trays held by waiters in white jackets. Erin had one of each of the chicken satay skewers with peanut sauce, spinach and feta cheese meatballs, and crostini with olive tapenade that had been refined yesterday to the bride’s satisfaction. All were delicious. Marionberry spritzers were pretty and frosty cold.
The ballroom was done up to Christy and Aunt Olivia’s exact specifications. Tables were dressed in dark green linen. Lavender-colored napkins were rolled and tied with twine into which a sprig of wisteria was slipped. The china was copper-rimmed. Centerpieces were enormous on tall pedestals, with larkspur, lilac and hydrangea selections dotted with long strands of fairy lights.
Out of the corner of her eye, Erin spotted her mother in conversation with a man she could only see from the back. Recognizing immediately who it was, apprehension darkened over her like a raincloud. Without drawing Kento’s attention, she said to a woman she was chatting with, “Excuse me for a minute.”
While he continued his conversation with some of the guests, she beelined across the room toward her mother, where her suspicion was confirmed. Important business in Walla Walla was supposed to have been so critical it was going to keep Ingram Barclay from attending the wedding. Yet there he was in a tuxedo and tailcoat. “Father, why are you here?”
“Your mother called me, and rightly so. I flew into town and chartered a ferry to the island.” Erin glared at Bunny, whose face pinched as she listened to her husband. “Surely you don’t think we’re going to allow you to get involved again with Kento Yamamoto.”
* * *
With the band having taken the stage, the reception was in full swing. Oldies dance songs had many revelers up and boogying in the grand ballroom, another event space on the lodge’s property with walls built mainly from glass to display the lush flora outside, a formal garden filled with fountains, birdbaths and colorful flowers. Bridesmaid Amber caught Kento’s eye as he watched her literally drag groomsman Demarcus onto the dance floor, the poor guy popping the crostini he held in his hand right into his mouth to keep up. She wore that same brash violet color as Erin and the other bridesmaids. He didn’t know where the maid of honor had gone, but he was ready for her return. This whole wedding biz was much easier to take with her on his arm.
In his bed, too, but that was another matter entirely. In fact, he’d been thinking during the ceremony that as magnificent as it was to make glorious love with Erin last night, the long-dormant passion in him set aflame, she was right to say up front that she didn’t think they should do it again. Even with the past hurts from the Barclays explained, the calculated ambitions of Ayaka behind him and the childhood of rejection now history, Kento made it his policy to keep his guard up at all times. His armor was always on. He wasn’t a man who was ever going to rely on anyone. But instead of confirming those edicts, as was his intention this weekend, Erin made him question them. Things were becoming too dangerous—she was too dangerous. What he felt around her could explode his plan into a million pieces.
He wholeheartedly alleged that trust was what fed an intimate relationship, which would shrivel and dry up without it. Good for Lucas and Christy, he’d thought as they promised each other love and loyalty at the altar. Of course, the for richer or for poorer part of the vows sounded silly coming out of the mouths of Seattle’s bluebloods, where daughters were still bargained off along like land and holdings. Erin would walk down the wedding aisle to her approved future someday, and it wasn’t going to be Kento. A part of him wished he could steal her away to be his, to take her back to Japan where she could leave this life that wasn’t making her happy, anyway.
After the band finished the song they were playing, the ballroom lights flashed and then went slightly dim. The bandleader, a stocky man whose limbs strained against his tuxedo, boomed through his microphone, “Introducing for the first time as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Collins.”
A purple-tinged spotlight was aimed at the ballroom’s entrance as Lucas and Christy burst in holding hands. At the same time, Erin arrived at Kento’s side. The band began the song that would be the couple’s first dance. As they took to the dance floor, the videographer and photographer snaked in a circle around them, capturing the moment.
Kento noticed there was a stress in Erin’s eyes, her brows slightly bunched, that hadn’t been there before. While they watched the newlyweds, he asked, “Is everything okay?”
He could tell she was making a decision before she told him, “My f
ather is here.”
“And that bothers you?”
“He wasn’t expected to come. My mother called to tell him you and I had resparked our romance.”
Understanding why she was upset, his own blood pressure rose. He’d hoped not to get involved in any conversation with either of Erin’s parents other than to exchange pleasantries. No longer the intimidated twenty-one-year-old, Kento saw no benefit in cutting loose the fury he’d held for the Barclays. It was of no importance now—he just wanted to get through the weekend and get back home. There was nothing to be gained by any kind of confrontation with them. That was Erin’s fight, should she ever suit up and make it to the battle line.
After the bride danced with her father and then father-in-law, the groom with his mother-in-law and then with his own mother, the bandleader announced, “We now call for the best man and maid of honor.”
Kento firmly grasped Erin’s hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. He pulled her close and they began to sway. Once they’d reached a rhythm, he asked into her ear, “Did your father have anything new to say on the topic?”
“I told him that I had maid of honor responsibilities and that we needed to discuss it later.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“I’ll have to explain that us getting back together is a hoax.”
The sequence of lies and exposures had gotten complicated, just as he’d suspected it might. “Which means you’ll have to tell your parents that one of the main reasons you embarked on this charade is because of your mother trying to fix you up with every society billionaire in Seattle. Even though ending up with one of them is, actually, the destiny you’re allowing them to choose for you.”