back yet?'
Ashley looked at her watch. 'He should be landing at Kennedy right about now. Let me go and check.' She went over to the PC in her office and went immediately to the British Airways site for arrivals. 'Yes, they got in right on time. Five minutes ago.'
'Go home then. He'll be calling, and trust me-he's going to need reassurance right about now. Bridal nerves aren't just confined to brides,' Nina told her.
Ashley got into her Solstice and drove home. She had no sooner gotten through the door when her cell began ringing. She flipped it open. 'Ashley here,' she said.
'I'm home,' his voice said. 'Rather, I'm in a car service car on my way into town. When should I come out tomorrow?'
'Do you want to come with your mother and Frankie?' she asked him. 'The limo is picking them up at two. Your mother is staying with your sister tonight.'
'Yeah, that's fine. Tell the limo to pick me up last, okay? I'll carry my suit and change when we get there, if that's okay.'
'Be shaved and shorn by then,' Ashley said. 'Depending on the traffic, you're just going to get here a half hour or less before the judge does his thing.'
'No problem. You nervous?'
'A little,' she admitted. 'You?'
'Yeah, a little. I guess I never figured this would happen, and it probably wouldn't have except for my father's damned will,' Ryan told her. 'I might be a confirmed bachelor. I've never been sure.'
'Don't you want kids someday?' she asked.
'Yeah, sure,' he told her.
'Then you can't be a confirmed bachelor, Ryan. And with your mother you'd have to have a wife if you expected her to accept your children,' Ashley said. 'Lina is a very conservative and traditional woman.'
'How'd you get her to change her mind about coming to the wedding when she learned it was a business arrangement first?' he asked.
'I told her that if by chance this marriage of convenience turned out to be more than just convenient, we'd call in the priest and do it the way she would want,' Ashley said. 'Didn't Frankie tell you that?'
She actually heard him gulp. Then he said, 'No. Frankie just said you were wonderful with Ma, and eased her around her distress after you told her the truth. She said Ma really likes you, and let you sweet-talk her,' Ryan answered.
Ashley laughed. 'What I did was soothe your mother's conscience. She's a good woman, Ryan. I'm sorry we're disappointing her.'
'Maybe we won't disappoint her in the end,' he suggested softly. 'Maybe before the two years are up we will call in the priest, Ash.'
'Maybe we will,' she allowed, her heart beating just a little faster at his words. Did he really like her enough already to be considering a real marriage? 'Get some rest before tomorrow,' Ashley said. 'It's going to be a big day.'
'I'm hoping for a big night,' he said.
'You're waggling your eyebrows, aren't you?' she countered.
He laughed. 'How can you tell?'
'You always waggle your eyebrows when you make suggestive remarks,' she told him. 'It makes me laugh, because it makes you look so naughty.'
He grinned. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Ash. Dream of me, okay?'
Dream of him? She almost laughed aloud. Her noble tribune husband on the Channel looked just like him. That was some dreaming, she thought. She was tempted to visit the Channel this evening, but she knew that if she did she would be tired tomorrow, and she wasn't about to spend a night on her fantasy when tomorrow she could have some reality. He wanted to sleep with her. No, he wanted to fuck her. And she was going to let him do it while she enjoyed every minute of it. Legally they would be married, so why not, if he wanted it? Their behavioral agreement gave them the choice. And there was no denying the sexual attraction between them. Maybe after they had done it a few times the thrill would pale for them. But even as she considered it, Ashley knew that wasn't going to happen. He was going to love doing her, and she was going to love letting him.
A weather front came through in the night, chasing the humidity out to sea and bringing rain that ended around ten in the morning. The day was suddenly perfect.
Old Tony, her gardener, and young Tony, his grandson and sometime helper, had spent the summer coaxing a pair of Sterling Silver rosebushes up a trellis. They had pruned and fussed over the roses to make certain that today the trellis was covered in blooms. Some were fully opened, some half-opened but the effect was visually spectacular. Ten chairs covered in white cotton covers were set up before the trellis, five to each side. Urns filled with lavender and white flowers stood on either side of the trellis. Lavender was Ashley's favorite color.
'Will the flowers hold until four thirty?' Ashley asked old Tony.
He nodded. 'The sun doesn't come around here this time of year until just after three thirty, missus. It's gonna look beautiful.'
'Thank you,' Ashley said. 'Keep the dogs from it.'
He nodded his acknowledgment.
Returning to the house, Ashley went to the dining room. It had already been set up. The table was covered with a white silk damask cloth embroidered with multicolored silk flowers along its border. 'Where did this come from?' she asked Byrnes.
'It's been stored in the linen chest since your mother married your father,' he answered her. 'Hasn't been used since. We had to wash it and iron it to get the wrinkles out of it from all those years being folded up. I'd forgotten all about it, but you know how sentimental Mrs. B. is. She remembered, and thought it should be on the table today.'
'The flower arrangement is spectacular,' Ashley noted, approving the big cut-crystal bowl of purple, lavender, pink, and white dahlias, and greens.
'Did them myself,' Byrnes said. 'We're using the Royal Worcester and the Waterford tonight. Do you want the Gorham Fairfax or the Reed and Barton 1810?'
'Use the Fairfax. I like it better with the Royal Worcester,' Ashley said. Then she left the dining room. There was absolutely nothing for her to do. The garden was ready. Byrnes had everything in hand in the house, and if she dared to venture into the kitchen she would hurt Mrs. B.'s feelings. She had canceled her regular Saturday massage, but she did have a noon appointment at Prime Cuts for a manicure and a pedicure. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall as it began to strike, and saw it was eleven forty-five. Ashley raced to her car.
At Prime Cuts she found herself surrounded by women she knew. Tiffany Pietro d'Angelo was there, along with Carla Johnson and Nora Buckley. They smiled at her con-spiratorially. Emily Shanski, now Emily Devlin, delivered in late June of her first child, was in a wicker chaise getting a pedicure while the baby slept in a basket by her side.
'You look great for someone who just had a baby,' Ashley said.
'You think so?' Emily said with a rueful smile. 'I still feel like a bit of a cow about to calve.' She chuckled. 'When you get married one day-and you will, despite your previous misfortunes-look out for those extra romantic moments that sneak up on you. Writing a novel is far easier than being preggers, I can assure you.'
'Yeah.' Carla Johnson laughed. 'Those sudden pleasures can really get you.'
The other women all laughed knowingly. Each one of them was a subscriber to the Channel, but they were also happy, even the widowed Nora.
'Well,' Ashley said, 'I've never written a novel, but I suppose one day I might have a baby. When I do I'll let you know if the shop is harder.' She smiled at them. Why was it that Nora Buckley seemed to grow more beautiful and younger-looking as each day went by? Ashley remembered a few years back, when Nora would never have
