“Well, next week, you and Cindy and I will go shoe-shopping together,” Mom said. “That’ll cheer you up.”
“Don’t wanna go shoe-shopping,” Cindy roused herself to say. “Wanna sleep. Wanna not barf.”
“We
Kayla forced a smile for her mother’s benefit. “Shoe-shopping sounds…”
The limo stopped at a light and Kayla saw Delriccio’s bakery on the corner. Just something else that had gone wrong lately. Every time she’d visited the bakery this past week they’d been completely sold out of her favorite hand-dipped double chocolate chunk biscotti. Jeez. On top of being utterly miserable, she was going through biscotti withdrawal. Of course, being sold out of the double chocolate chunk was probably a good thing, since her Vera Wang maid-of-honor gown was feeling a tad snug, thanks to all the pity-party biscotti she’d consumed during the last month.
She shifted and grimaced at the zipper pinching into her back. Okay, fine, her dress was more than a
But, as miserable as she was, what difference did a few extra inches around her waist and some cellulite on her ass matter? Oh, right, don’t forget to toss in the trio of zits on her forehead. They just perfectly closed the deal.
She glanced at her watch. Only about ten or eleven more hours in the tight dress and uncomfortable shoes. Then she could go home and crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head.
Arriving at the church, Kayla had little to do before the ceremony began, since Meg had seen to it that every detail was taken care of. In spite of Meg’s tendency to be bossy, Kayla couldn’t help but admire her formidable sister. She’d known what she wanted and had gone after it and planned her perfect wedding and that’s all there was to it.
So she was surprised when, just before they were to line up to walk down the aisle, Meg turned to her and asked in an uncertain voice, “It’s all good, right, Kayla?”
Kayla reached out and squeezed her hand. “Meg, everything is absolutely perfect.”
Walking down the aisle, Kayla held her head high and smiled at the assembled friends and relatives, forcing herself to concentrate on Meg’s happiness and not her own misery. And to not breathe in too deeply-lest she and Vera Wang suffer an unfortunate parting of the ways.
The ceremony was beautiful, from the flowers to the words to the music. Listening to Meg and Robert exchange vows, their love for each other so obvious, tears gathered in Kayla’s eyes. Tears of envy because she wanted what they had-minus all the Bridezilla stuff, of course. Tears of joy because she was genuinely happy for her sister. And tears of loss because she’d lost a man who’d once looked at her through golden-brown eyes filled with the same sort of warmth and admiration shining in the groom’s eyes for his bride.
After the ceremony and receiving line, the bridal party assembled in the church for pictures. Endless pictures. Good God, how many pictures could they take?
Then the picture taking moved outside. Posing on the church steps. More photos. Thank goodness Meg had refused to allow the traditional rice or bird seed to be tossed. Instead everyone held tiny little bottles of bubbles, and when the signal was given, they all blew out a stream of bubbles, engulfing the bride and groom in thousands of delicate soap spheres that floated up with the warm summer breeze.
Meg and Robert ran amongst the bubbles to the white antique Rolls Royce that would transport them to Central Park for more pictures, then onto the Waldorf Astoria for the reception. The rest of the bridal party would meet them at the Waldorf, traveling in style in the stretch limo. And once they arrived, they’d be subjected to more picture taking.
The crowd slowly dispersed, and Kayla stood on the top step, chatting with her cousin Daniel who lived in Florida, and whom she hadn’t seen in five years. He was talking about some night club he’d invested in and even though she nodded politely, her attention wandered to the people milling around on the steps and sidewalk. Uncle Will and Aunt Gwen were chatting with her mom and Cindy. Meg’s boss and his wife were talking to a young couple Kayla didn’t know. Cousins Debbie and Marla. Another couple Kayla didn’t recognize. Brett Thornton.
She went perfectly still, then blinked twice, certain she was seeing wrong.
But there was no mistake. Brett stood on the sidewalk below, looking up the stairs, his gaze fixed on her.
For several stunned seconds she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only stare. For one crazy instant she thought he was a guest-some cruel trick of fate that he somehow knew Meg or Robert and had been invited to the wedding, not realizing the bride was her sister.
But no, he was dressed casually in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
Her heart jumped back to life and she reached out to grip the banister lest her trembling legs gave out. Afraid to so much as blink, in case he was some sort of mental mirage brought on by misery and biscotti deprivation, she excused herself to Daniel, then moved down one cautious step. When Brett didn’t disappear, she risked another, then another.
His gaze never moved from her, and she continued with her jerky steps. When she passed by where her mother stood, Kayla heard her ask, “Honey, are you okay?”
She nodded. At least she thought she did. She tried to. She could feel the weight of her mother’s stare on her back, but she didn’t stop. Didn’t pause until only six feet separated her and Brett. And then, wouldn’t you know it, her throat slammed shut. She had to swallow three times to find her voice, and then only managed to say, “Hi” in a high-pitched voice she didn’t recognize.
“Hello, Kayla.”
A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding whooshed from her lungs. Until he’d spoken, part of her had really wondered if he might be a mirage.
“Wh-what are you doing here? Out for a walk?”
“No.” He regarded her through very serious eyes. “I came here to see you.”
Oh, God, she was going to fall down. Right here, on the sidewalk. After locking her shaky knees, she wet her lips then said, “You did?”
“I did. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past week, but since we’d never exchanged phone numbers or addresses and you’re unlisted, it’s been challenging.” He slipped his hands into his back pockets and she pressed her lips together, trying to force back the memory of those talented hands skimming down her body. Gently framing her face.
“I tried to find you through La Fleur, but when I called the company, all the receptionist would tell me is that you don’t work there anymore.”
She nodded. “That’s correct. I don’t.”
He studied her for several seconds, and she wondered what he was thinking. “Then I remembered about your sister getting married. I checked the announcements in the
Yes, and here he was. Looking so big and strong and gorgeous she wanted to throw herself into his arms. And staring at her with an unreadable expression that had her heart jumping in her chest.
“It’s good to see you,” she whispered, appalled when her voice broke on the last word. She offered up a quick prayer to the Patron Saint of Tissues to please not let her cry. Surely such a simple prayer could be answered, seeing as how they stood right outside a church.
“Do you have a few minutes?” he asked. “Or do you need to leave right now?”
“I have some time. Meg and Robert are going to stop in the park for a few pictures,” she looked skyward, “or a few hundred pictures, before going to the Waldorf.”
The ghost of a smile touched his lips, and her breath hitched at the suggestion of the dimple in his cheek. He nodded toward the church. “Do you think we could sit in there and talk?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s not as if there aren’t plenty of seats.”
She turned and started up the stairs, carefully lifting the hem of her Wang because of all the times to go splat, this would be a really bad one. She heard him climbing the stone steps behind her and an image of them hiking the trail flashed through her mind, of his teasing smile as he ogled her butt.
