The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  “What?” I exclaim, immediately slipping into panic mode. The past few weeks, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling someone’s been watching us. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. There are millions of people in New York and the chance that Vito has found us is slim. He probably assumes I’m long gone by now. But I’ve still been looking over my shoulder at every turn, and I made Nyla promise she wouldn’t walk anywhere alone.

  I dial her cell cursing when I get her voicemail. “Hey. Can you call me as soon as you get this? Emily said you never made it into the office and I’m worried.”

  I call everyone I can think of—Jen, Alex, Colin—but no one’s heard from her. My mind races with wicked thoughts. I’ve got her tied to a chair in the back of Dolce Vita with Tony holding a gun to her head while Vito interrogates her about me. Or maybe one of Harrison’s old bookies grabbed her and she’s lying in a gutter somewhere battered and bleeding. I’m about to call Giovanni and ask him to put out an APB when she finally strolls into my office all full of smiles.

  I drag her into my arms like she’s been gone for months. “Where the hell were you? You scared the shit out of me!”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, clueless to why I’m totally freaked out. “My phone died. Benji must have got caught up in the cord last night and unplugged it.” She frowns, resting a hand on my chest and dabs perspiration from my forehead with her other sleeve. “Hey, are you okay? You’re all sweaty and your heart feels like a jackhammer.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just worried. Promise me you won’t disappear like that again without telling someone.”

  “I promise. I’m sorry I scared you, but you’re going to be happy when you find out why I did. What are you doing a week from this Saturday?”

  “I’ve got bocce with Gino and Giovanni and then I’m sure Valerie will have lunch waiting for us afterward like usual. Why? Do you want to put together something for the kids?” I ask, sitting on the corner of my desk.

  “We could do that. Or we could get married,” she says with a Cheshire cat smile.

  “Are you serious? What about the church? Your big wedding? All that stuff?”

  “We can still have it. I went to the church this morning and met with the woman who does the scheduling to see if they had any earlier dates available. She said they just had a bride call off a wedding because she found out the groom knocked up one of her bridesmaids. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “That’s incredible!” I reply, picking her up and spinning her around the office.

  She giggles, fixing her shirt when I set her back on her feet. “I mean I feel awful for her, but it’s great for us. Then I started calling around to see if we could rent a few of those huge outdoor tents when I remembered Max had some he uses for the summer parties he throws at his estate.”

  Max. I can’t believe I forgot to call him.

  Her words come rapid-fire with such excitement, I can hardly keep up. “He said not only could we borrow them, but we could have the reception there too. I mean, the wedding planner’s going to hate us, but he’ll get over it.” She rocks on her heels, her eyes sparkling. “So, what do you think?”

  I take her hand, playing with her fingers. “I think you’re wonderful and that I’d like nothing more than to marry you on Saturday, but I thought you wanted a winter wedding.”

  “I’m willing to compromise,” she says, cocking her head to the side and draping her arms over my shoulders. “When I heard you on the phone with your dad this morning, I realized how selfish I was being. This isn’t just my wedding. It’s our wedding. And we don’t know how much longer your dad …” She pauses, rethinking her words. “I think it would be really nice if we did it while your dad could still enjoy himself and be a part of it. So how about it? Memphis Drake, will you marry me a week from Saturday?”

  “You’re amazing. I would be honored to marry you a week from Saturday.”

  She jumps up and down clapping like a five-year old. “Yay! Now come on. We have to call everyone we know and tell them we changed the date.” She laughs. “They’re going to think I’m knocked up.”

  “I told you I’m perfectly willing to make that happen. I’m sure there’s an office or supply closet somewhere in this building that could accommodate us,” I tease, glancing around.

  “That’ll have to wait. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Don’t Get Paranoid

  Okay, I understand why everyone stared at me like I was nuts when I thought we could put together a wedding in a few weeks. Even though the things we’d already completed for our December nuptials gave us a head start, there’s still so much to do.

  Today is our rehearsal dinner. I sent Nyla and her bridesmaids for a spa day while I secretly met with the wedding planner to go over some final details. I’m going to give my girl her winter wedding even if it is only the end of May. With a little help from Max and Colin, I managed to locate an artificial snow machine, a professional Christmas tree decorator (who even knew that was a thing?), and enough twinkle lights to give the North Pole a run for its money. When we arrive at the reception tomorrow, Nyla will be walking into a winter wonderland.

  I’m just finishing up the meeting and am on my way to get my tux when my phone rings. Shit. It’s Gino. He’s called me three times this week and I keep forgetting to call him back. “Hey Gino! Sorry I haven’t gotten back with you. We’ve been running around like crazy doing wedding stuff.”

  “I figured as much. I’m sorry to bother you, but I think this might be important.” There’s a seriousness to his voice that I haven’t heard before and it alarms me.

  “You okay? Are Valerie and Giovanni alright?”

  I just saw Giovanni yesterday when the guys and I had some beers and caught a baseball game as a sort of mini-bachelor party kind of thing, but he didn’t mention any problems. We’ve become good friends. He even plays basketball with Max, Colin, and me on Sundays. That’s also helped me keep up on his investigation, which, as far as I know, hit a dead end after his visit to the hospital didn’t yield any results.

  “Yeah, yeah. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

  “About me?” I stop walking to give him my full attention.

  “Yeah. Some guy came by the park looking for you Saturday morning while you boys were out getting fitted for your tuxes. He was asking a lot of questions and I got the feeling he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d want me giving answers to.”

  “Did he say who he was?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask. Told him I didn’t know any Memphis Drake. You in some kinda trouble?”

  “Trouble? No.”

  “You know you can tell me if you are. Giovanni doesn’t have to know. But you know he’d help if you were.”

  “I know and I appreciate that Gino, but I promise I’m fine. What’d the guy look like?”

  “I don’t know. He was just a guy,” he replies like we only come in one shape and size.

  “You know, I bet it was Nyla’s cousin. He got a new phone and probably didn’t have my number programmed into it yet. He was supposed to meet up with us and he knows Nyla and I are at the park most weekends,” I lie.

  “Okay, if you say so.” It’s obvious he doesn’t buy my explanation, but he doesn’t press me either. “You let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding.”

  “Alright, thanks Gino.” I hang up with a curse drawing a dirty look from an elderly woman passing by. My eyes instinctively swing up and down the street looking for any sign of Tony or one of Vito’s goons. No one stands out, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’d be easy to blend in with the throng lining the sidewalks today.

  I ruffle the back of my head with my hand. I need to calm down. There’s no reason to think it’s Vito. There are plenty of people it could be. Some of the fathers from the charity are big dudes, and most know I play bocce. Maybe one of them showed up expecting there to be an event and came looking for me when we wer
en’t by the picnic tables. Yeah, I’m sure that’s probably it.

  I pick up my tuxedo and finish the rest of my errands, making sure I have everything ready since I won’t be coming back home before the wedding. As much as I hate it, Nyla and I will be sleeping apart tonight, as tradition dictates. She and the rest of the bridesmaids will be staying at her father’s house in Oyster Bay while the guys and I crash at Max’s Hampton estate.

  Both are about equal distance from the church, but roughly an hour away from each other. I thought it was cute Nyla wanted to honor all these traditions, but after talking to Gino, now I just want her close to me. I’ve spoken to her a few times today, but I won’t be happy until I see her and hold her in my arms.

  At six o’clock, I arrive at the church where I’m meeting my angel and the rest of the bridal party. Alex, Jen, and Emily are standing together chatting on the steps outside when the car pulls up to the breathtaking stone cathedral. I don’t see Nyla anywhere. Maybe she’s already inside.

  I exit the car, approaching them with a smile. “Hey, where’s my beautiful bride-to-be?” They share an awkward glance like they’re debating whether they should divulge her whereabouts. My heart rate kicks up. “What’s going on? Where’s Nyla?” I ask trying to keep my cool.

  Emily finally pipes up, “She’s inside … talking to Michael.”

  “Oh, hell no!”

  “Memphis! Wait!” they call after me as I charge past them into the church. I can only imagine what Mike is telling her. If he ruins this for me, I’ll kill him.

  I find the two of them having a little pow-wow just past the narthex to the right of the nave. Nyla’s expression is sober. Mike places a hand on her forearm, and the physical contact sets me off. I fly up on them, pulling Nyla behind me with one hand and shoving Mike with the other.

  “I told you to stay the fuck away from her! What’s he telling you?” I bellow, not caring who hears me or that I’m in a place of worship. God will understand; the priest might not.

  “Oh shit. Max! Colin! Get over here!” Jen shouts from behind me. They bolt from the front of the church where they were speaking with the priest. Colin is the first on the scene, insinuating himself between Mike and me, holding me back with a palm to my chest.

  “Memphis, calm down,” Mike pleads.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! It’s a good thing we’re in a church because you might want to start praying, asshole!”

  “Memphis,” Nyla reprimands me.

  “I want him gone. Now!” I spit at Max and Giovanni, who have now joined the party. They move towards Mike prepared to escort him out, but Nyla jumps to his defense.

  “Leave him alone. It’s okay. I invited him.”

  I round on her. “You invited him? Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Can you guys give us a minute please?” Nyla requests and the crowd obliges, dispersing but remaining close enough to interject if necessary. She orders Mike to stay put and guides me over to a private corner. “I invited him because you two need to talk. You’ve been best friends for years. One day, this argument will blow over and then you’ll regret not having him here at our wedding.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Yes, you will.” She rubs her forehead with her hand. “Memphis, I can’t help thinking your fight had something to do with me and I can’t stand the thought of being the one that’s coming between the two of you. Please talk to him. He feels terrible about the argument you had. Hear what he has to say. If you still don’t want him to stay after that, you can tell him to go and I’ll never bring it up again.”

  “I’m only doing this for you. I don’t care if I ever see that motherfu—”

  She presses a finger over my lips before I can complete the obscenity. “Thank you,” she whispers, giving me a chaste kiss before padding over to Mike.

  They speak for a few moments and then he approaches me with caution, as he damn well should. “Hey.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I grate out through clenched teeth.

  “Nyla called me and told me about the wedding. She asked me to come, and I didn’t know how to turn her down.”

  “You call yourself a con man, yet you couldn’t come up with one excuse? How about ‘sorry Nyla, I can’t. I have to take care of my sick non-existent autistic cousin’ or ‘I have the flu’ or ‘I can’t because Memphis wouldn’t fucking want me there’?”

  “Memphis come on. You told Nyla you’d hear me out.”

  “I said that to pacify her. Whatever you’ve got to say, I don’t want to hear. Just leave. And don’t ever show your face here or come anywhere near her again. You understand me?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” he sulks, backing away and raises his hands in a gesture that says ‘I tried’ as he passes Nyla.

  She scrunches her face, treading gingerly towards me. “I guess that wasn’t the best plan, huh?”

  “It wasn’t one of your better ones.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “No. I understand why you did it. But I’m a big boy. If I decide I want to cut someone out of my life, please trust that I did it for good reason, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” She gazes at me with those damn puppy dog eyes that are my own personal kryptonite. “Forgive me?”

  “Yes,” I ho-hum, hooking my arm around her neck and draw her close enough to whisper in her ear. “But you’re so making it up to me later.”

  The rest of the rehearsal goes off without a hitch. Afterward, we gather with our guests at Epicure, a restaurant known as much for its ambience as it is for its superlative food and drinks. All this wedding stuff is new to me—rehearsal dinners, bridal parties, wedding planners, reception venues—and to be honest, I could do without it. If I had my way, I’d still whisk Nyla off tonight and marry her in a private ceremony. As a con man, I do my best not to stand out. I’m not used to being thrust into the spotlight like this and I find all the attention unnerving.

  Maybe it’s premarital jitters, but every second that passes fills me with anxiety. The closer I get to having all my dreams come true, the more terrified I am that something is going to happen to take it all away. I’ve spent every night of the last two weeks lying awake, staring at the ceiling tiles, wondering why I should get my happily ever after when I’ve stolen so many from others.

  I stay glued to Nyla’s side and mingle with our guests doing my best to engage in conversation. But my mind is preoccupied. There are just a few more hours to get through, and then she’ll be my wife. The thought has me lifting our joined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of hers.

  She smiles. “You okay?”

  “I’m great. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve just been quiet. You’re not getting cold feet on me, are you?”

  “Nope. My feet are warm and toasty,” I reply, holding out my Berluti leather Oxford. “I’m just taking everything in. How ‘bout you? You’re not thinking of pulling a runaway bride on me, are you?”

  She purses her lips together making a pffft sound. “Not a chance. Nothing is going to stop me from becoming Mrs. Memphis Drake.”

  I grin, gliding my thumb over her bottom lip. “Say that again.”

  “Say what again?”

  “Mrs. Memphis Drake.”

  She leans in emphasizing each word. “Mrs. Memphis Drake.”

  “Damn that’s sexy.” I nuzzle her neck, whispering a few things I’m looking forward to doing to the future Mrs. Drake when we’re interrupted by Jen and Alex.

  “Alright, break it up you two love birds,” Jen says, clapping her hands in front of our faces.

  “Come on Ned. It’s time to get you home. You don’t want bags under your eyes when you’re walking down the aisle tomorrow,” Alex teases.

  “Ned?” I ask bemused.

  Nyla rolls her eyes. “Nyla Elizabeth Drake. They figured out my initials will spell Ned at the spa today and they’ve been calling me that ever since.”

  “Okay, I’m not so sure about Ned, but I lo
ve the sound of Nyla Elizabeth Drake.”

  “Me too,” she replies with a kiss. “Call me to say goodnight?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle tomorrow.”

  “Nothing could keep me away.” Our hands stretch apart, and I have to force myself to let her leave.

  While the girls head to Edward’s house for the night, the guys and I camp out at Max’s place, which is more of a train station than a house. With three floors, a guesthouse, pool house, and servants’ quarters, its enormous size is ridiculous for a man who lives alone. But when you have the kind of money he does, why not go all out?

  It’s a beautiful night and we decide to take advantage of it. We adjourn to the terrace where Max hands each of us a Fuente Opus X cigar and opens a bottle of Balvenie Tun 1509 pouring us generous portions. They raise a glass to me in a toast. I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to call these guys my friends. We’ve become like brothers. Not a day goes by that we don’t talk or text.

  Mason wanders outside and joins us, making himself comfortable in the chair beside me. I ruffle his hair with my hand. “And who were you talking to?”

  “I just called Hannah to say goodnight.”

  My body stiffens. I didn’t know they still spoke. I thought he understood their relationship had to end when we moved. We’re going to need to have a conversation about this, but not tonight. Tonight, is a night for celebration, not lectures.

  “Who’s Hannah? Is she your girlfriend?” Giovanni teases.

  “Kinda. We haven’t seen each other since I moved, but we still FaceTime and text, and play video games together,” he confesses with sorrow and once again, I feel like a huge jerk. She was the first girl he ever cared about, and I took him away from her. He leans forward and picks up a cigar. “Hey, can I have one of these?”

  I’m about to say ‘no’ when Max chimes in. “It’s your brother’s last night as a free man, why not?” My face must convey my concern because Max adds, “A few puffs isn’t going to kill him.”