Loaded, p.23
Loaded, page 23
I’m certainly not one in a billion, but I do feel pretty good as I walk into work, like I’m on top of the world for once.
It’s a nice feeling, which is why it probably can’t last.
21
Easton
The last wedding I attended was my sister’s, and it had a lot of the same people as this one. I’m not entirely sure what to expect with this one. I know that to Bea, Bentley Harrison is like an uncle. But in the business world, the man’s a terrifying shark.
Everyone’s afraid of him.
Everyone.
Even Catherine Richmond gives him a wide berth. It doesn’t hurt that, on top of having family money and wealth of his own, Bentley’s also got a father and an uncle who are judges. There have been rumors lately that his uncle might be next in line when a certain Supreme Court Justice retires.
I can’t imagine Bea’s grandfather would try to make a scene at the wedding, but just in case, I’m going into it prepared. It took me forty hours a day for the past several days, but I’ve got a signed letter of intent from Laurent’s father, and the deal will be closed by some time next week. If good old grandpa gets rude or feisty, I’m ready for it.
Bring it, old man.
The problem with people like Bea, people who are so good that it practically oozes out of them, is that bad people can smell their vulnerability. They latch on and never let go, milking the poor givers for every last drop. If I have anything to say about it, this particular leech has pushed Bea around for the last time.
When I reach Bea’s house, I’m already in my tux. It’s gotten cool enough in New York that I’m not sweating, which is nice. I know that’s when things get irritating for the ladies, though, because they usually wear dramatically less clothing for formal events.
Something really ought to be done about that. If I wasn’t selling off my company, I’d make a note of it. Either more revealing clothing for the men, or more full coverage for the women. . . Given how hard it was to get designers to start putting pockets in women’s clothing, I’m not sure it will be an easy thing to address. But that’s a problem for another day.
Today, I only really care about Bea.
When I knock, the door opens almost immediately. Jake’s already wearing his penguin suit, too. He tosses his head in the universal sign for what’s up?
“Not ready to go?” I lift my eyebrows.
Jake drags one finger across his throat and then presses the same finger to his mouth.
“Who is it?” Bea pokes her head out the door, her hair tied up on the top of her head like a big, poofy bow. “It’s Easton already?” She’s shrieking. “Why didn’t you tell me how late it was?”
“He’s early,” Jake says in a calm, measured voice. When he turns around to face me, he hisses. “Dude, you never come early. You have a sister.”
That makes me laugh. “Elizabeth’s more of a ‘throw on whatever and schlep your way over’ kind of girl.”
Jake grimaces and shakes his head. “Bea’s not.”
I point at the TV. “Giants game?”
He frowns. “Not this early. Maybe Knicks?”
“Dude.” I snort. “Not for two weeks.”
He shrugs. “I used to keep up better, but when I start filming, I really lose track.”
“Maybe there’s some hockey on?”
Jake drops into the corner of the sofa. “Eh. It’s fine. She’s probably just got ten or fifteen minutes left.”
“Did you see her hair?”
“That’s what threw you off. Putting on her dress takes thirty seconds,” Jake says. “The reason her hair looked so weird is she’s done the whole bottom half. Doing just the top is quick, and her makeup is done. She spent way too long on that earlier.”
“Jacob Priest.”
He cringes. “Shoot. She heard me.” He stands, mouthing the words “Save yourself.”
“Get in here right now.”
He sighs and pivots, heading for her door.
His time estimate is about right, though. About ten minutes later, they both come out, and her hair. . .It falls around her shoulders like a tumultuous waterfall of shining deep brown curls. Something in it sparkles from several places, but I can’t tell what. Her dress is the perfect color for her skin and eyes, a golden russet that makes her look both tan and glowing at the same time. Her eyes pop—probably thanks in some part to her makeup—in contrast to the fabric color as well.
“Oh, no,” I say.
“What?” She freezes.
Jake’s eyes widen and he shakes his head behind her.
“I’m not sure you can go like that.” I exhale. “The bride won’t let you in if you upstage her. It is supposed to be her day.”
Bea rolls her eyes and bites her lip.
It’s absolutely adorable.
“You two are gross,” Jake says. “I’m taking my car.”
“You could have left half an hour ago and spared me the misery.” Bea’s shaking her head. “Why didn’t you? You’re so annoying.”
“I was trying to keep Easter here alive.” He glares. “She’d eat you alive when she’s stressed about getting ready, little boy. Learning to survive this part takes some training.”
She shoves him.
It’s actually pretty nice of him to drive himself. Clearly he could insist on driving, and that would leave me crammed into the back of his Porsche. No thanks.
Or if Bea drove, she’d have had to pick one of us for the front seat, and that might have been awkward too. I expected him to be more of a problem, actually, but he seems to be better than I anticipated. Honestly, at the beginning, right after I met Bea, I kind of thought he liked her.
I was actually almost positive.
Clearly I’m not always right, and this time, it’s a relief.
Jake grabs his keys and disappears.
“You ready?”
“Yeah,” Bea says. “I just need to grab my gift.”
“How are you going to grab a song?” I look around to see if maybe there’s a CD or something sitting around. Though who listens to CDs anymore, I’m not sure.
Her cheeks turn pink.
“What?” Did I say something stupid?
“I didn’t really have time,” she says. “So instead, I got them a portrait of their family.”
“Oh.” I nod. “That still sounds really cool.”
She picks up a two by three foot gift that was leaning against the side wall in the kitchen. I should have noticed it. My powers of observation are clearly offline after my long week. “The artist even added their names with this really pretty calligraphy under each of them.”
“I’m sure they’ll love it,” I say.
She shrugs. “It’s hard to shop for rich people.” She bumps me with her hip as she passes. “I’m not looking forward to your birthday.” Then she frowns. “When is it, anyway?”
“You lucked out. It was the week before I came into your restaurant.”
Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
“When’s yours?”
She groans. “Day after Christmas.” She shakes her head. “I drew the short straw.”
“I guess so.”
“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m used to it by now, and Seren always turned it into a big production.”
“At least you never go to school on your birthday. Mine was the first day of school twice.”
Bea laughs. “I suppose everything has its trade-offs.”
I take the gift from her and gesture for the door. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late.”
“Can’t have that,” she says. “I have someone to show off.” Her grin lifts my heart.
When we get into the car, I start tapping the address in. “Oh, you can just go,” Bea says. “I’ll tell you how to get there.”
“You know how to get there by heart?”
“It’s at my parent’s inn,” she says. “It’s home.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t noticed that when she sent me the address before. “That’s kind of cool. Is it big enough for the Harrison wedding?”
“Barbara wanted a small wedding,” Bea says. “Not sure she’ll be getting that, but they really did try to contain the guest list. No more than three hundred guests.”
“So four hundred?”
Bea laughs. “Probably. One of the problems with being fancy is that you have a lot of work contacts you don’t want to offend.”
“And a lot of them probably come in sets,” I say. “Like, if I were to invite Jean-François to our wedding, I’d have to invite Sabato as well, or I swear, Gucci would blackball me.”
“Gucci?” Her smile is so cute. “Really?”
I shrug. “It happened once. I thought Sabato was still in France, so I only called Jean-François about this kind of last-minute gathering.”
“How did you fix it?”
“It’s a long story that involves me wearing a women’s swimsuit for an entire round of golf.”
Bea’s laughter’s loud and long. “I’m afraid I need evidence of that.”
“There better not be any,” I say. “Because if there is, I’m going to have to murder someone.”
“Yes, well, most of my stories involve people that no one has ever heard of.”
“Says the granddaughter of Audrey Colburn—”
“Foster great granddaughter. I never even met her.”
“And the granddaughter of the Governor.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Roommate of Jake Priest.”
“He’s a pain in the pattoo.”
“Can’t argue that one. But your other brother is the heir to the Richmond fortune, and you’re family to Bentley Harrison.” I shrug. “I’m just saying, you’re not exactly one to talk about having no connections.”
She grunts.
It feels kind of nice to win a round.
“Alright, how’s this for a story? The first time I met Uncle Bentley, I threatened to stab him.”
“You’re kidding.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I had been at Dave and Seren’s for three days, and he came flying through the door with a gun in his hand.” She’s smiling. “He had found some kind of old gun from the war or something, and Dave knew he was looking for it. Maybe Seren did, too, but to me, he was some strange man barging in with a gun.”
“And you threatened him with a knife?”
“I think what I said was something like, ‘you might shoot me, but I’m a blade master, and I’ll slice your throat before I die.’ Dave and Seren were in the back room, and the way they laughed, you’d think they’d never been amused before in their lives.”
“After that, you’re still invited to the wedding?” I can’t help imagining it, tiny Bea, brandishing a knife when most girls would be screaming and huddling on the floor. It doesn’t even surprise me. She seems small. She seems slight. She hates being the center of attention, but if she’s shoved against a wall, she comes back swinging.
Bea shrugs. “I think they have to invite me.”
“Oh?”
She leans a little closer and drops her voice. “I know all the dirt on them.”
That makes me laugh. But with just one more turn, we’re there, which makes sense. I doubt any of Dave and Seren’s foster kids live too far from them. They may not always call them mom or dad, but they clearly all orient around them like electrons in orbit.
As we pull up outside, a valet’s waiting to take the car. I hate handing off the keys, but I can’t really wrestle them to the ground and insist on parking my own car. I grit my teeth and pass the fob to the twenty-year-old.
I have insurance. I have insurance. This is why I have insurance.
“You okay?”
“Did you do anything stupid when you were twenty?”
“You may need to be more specific,” Bea says. “Most of what I did when I was twenty was stupid.”
“Oh?” I feel like I need to know more about that. “But I mean, when you were driving.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “I mean, maybe. I think I was twenty when I kind of backed into a dumpster.” She scrunches up her nose. “Insurance covered the repairs, but my bumper has been a little crooked ever since.”
“I just handed a twenty-year-old my hundred thousand dollar car. That’s all.”
She bobs her head. “That’s why you shouldn’t ever spend more than twenty grand on a car.”
“I think I’ll take my chances,” I say. “I can’t think of a single car for twenty grand that I would want to drive.”
“Snob.”
But now we’re walking through the front gate, and Dave and Seren are there. Before I can even re-introduce myself, Seren’s hugging me. “Easton.” She releases me, her smile bright. “Welcome. So happy to see you again.”
“Oh.” Before I can really process how nice she is, Dave’s hugging me too.
“I didn’t use to be a hugger,” he’s saying, “but after long enough with someone, they start to rub off on you, so here we are.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I don’t mind.”
“I hear our girl Bea is smiling more these days, thanks to you.” Dave bobs his head. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Me too,” I say.
“Jake doesn’t praise people very often, so that’s a pretty strong recommendation from him.” Dave gestures. “Wedding party’s waiting at our house until they’re ready for us.”
“Oh. Right.” Bea’s already walking that way, but when I start to follow her, Dave grabs my elbow.
“And son?”
I turn back. “Yes?”
“If you make her cry?” He’s still beaming like he’s telling me a joke or something. “This inn sits on acres and acres of gardens. No one would ever even find where I put your body, because I’d spread it into pieces so small even a cadaver dog couldn’t find it.” He lifts both eyebrows. “We clear?”
I blink.
“Bea has been through enough misery for three lifetimes. I won’t tolerate any nonsense.”
Yeah, she basically has no connections at all. I force a smile and nod. “Right, I hear you, sir.”
He pats my shoulder. “No need to call me sir. Mister’s fine.”
I can’t tell if he’s kidding, but I can feel a bead of sweat roll down between my shoulder blades. I knew to prepare for a confrontation with the grandfather, but I had no idea her dad would be this scary. “No reason to worry on my account,” I say. “I love her to the moon and back.”
Dave’s smile widens. “That’s the right answer, son.”
Jake jogs over. “Did he give you the ‘my gardens are really big’ speech?” He slugs Dave on the shoulder. “That is so not as scary as you think it is. You need to rework it or something. You’re going to put poor Easton to sleep.” Jake bumps my arm and starts walking, dragging me along in his wake.
“It was actually terrifying,” I confess as we pull closer to the small cottage house.
“Oh, believe me, I know. When they brought me into the family, he gave me the same one, but about all the girls.” Jake’s eyes are dancing. “But you don’t exactly get a Doberman to stand down by telling him his growling is super effective, do you?”
Bea’s family is very strange.
She’s worth it, though.
When I follow her through the door, there’s already a full house inside. I know the youngest is her other foster brother, Killian, and I’m guessing the stoic one wearing chunky glasses is Ardath. She’s a doctor, and she stitched up Catherine Richmond at Elizabeth’s wedding, but that’s as much as I know about either of them.
“Easton, right?” Killian stands. “Good to meet you.”
“We met at Elizabeth and Emerson’s wedding,” I say.
Killian shrugs. “I mean, probably, but you were just another suit then.” He grins. “Now you’re knocking boots with my sister.” He pulls a face.
Bea squeals. “Killian McGregor, you apologize right now.” She spins around. “I’m so sorry—he’s at that stage where he’s constantly trying to horrify people.”
“He’s pretty good at it.” Jake high fives Killian.
“Jake.” Bea’s eyes are flashing, but neither of the boys looks concerned. “If you two don’t both apologize to Easton right now—we are taking things slow, and we’re being respectful.” She glares. “I’ll tell everyone about the funnel.”
Jake’s jaw drops.
Killian coughs.
“I’m sorry,” Killian blurts, and then he looks at Bea.
She frowns.
Killian continues. “Like, really sorry for being rude, dude. We chill?”
I nod.
He shoots a sideways glare at Bea, and then he darts down the hall.
“Me too,” Jake says.
“No way.” Bea folds her arms. “Actors can certainly use their words better than that. I’ll even give you your line. ‘Oh, Easton, I’m so sorry I encouraged my goofy little brother who worships me to be rude.’” She tosses her head, like she’s nudging a recalcitrant toddler to return the M&Ms he stole.
He huffs. “I’m sorry that I laughed when Killian was being a jerk.” He turns his head. “We good?”
She holds his gaze for a moment, and then she nods. “Fine.”
“I have to know about this funnel,” I say.
“No way,” Bea says at the same time Jake says, “I’ll actually kill you.”
It’s not very long before they have us lining up to head over to the outdoor arbor where the ceremony will be. There are mums everywhere. I can’t even begin to guess how much money in flowers I’m looking at, but Dave was right about one thing. They have a prodigious amount of garden space, especially this close to the City.
We only have time to run through the details once before guests begin arriving, and then we’re all on tap to help greet people and get them to their proper seats. I should’ve known I’d be right here on the front lines—between my sister being married to Bea’s brother, and them being Bentley and Barbara’s family, I’m basically family already.
I don’t hate that idea.
In fact, when my parents arrive, they lie shamelessly. I hear them telling everyone how utterly delighted they were to discover that Bea and I were dating. I glare at them once, just so they know I see their lie, and then I let it go. After all, I do want them to support us.
