White Wedding: A Christmas Romantic Comedy (Blackwood Cellars Series Book 3)

by Carla Luna

  “Works for me,” Tony said.

  Rafael got his irritation under control. Though he didn’t want Tony babysitting him, this solution was better than handing his older brother the entire job. “I’m still in charge, right? This is my show?”

  “Yep,” Martin said. “But I want you two to work together when you put in your supply order. Tony can also supervise the kitchen prep during the week of the wedding, in case you’re busy at the manor, helping with all those Christmas trees.”

  “Thanks,” Rafael said. “I won’t let you down.”

  Martin gave him a pointed look. “You’d better not. No messing with Victoria Blackwood, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  No matter how Rafael felt about Victoria, he knew better than to act on it.

  Both of them had too much at stake.

  Chapter 11

  All afternoon, Victoria contemplated texting Rafael and asking him for help with the gingerbread houses. But she didn’t want him to think she was desperate for his attention. At the very least, she should attempt Missy’s projects on her own before begging for assistance.

  Which was how she came to be spending her Monday night at home, building a gingerbread house. Rather than risk ruining one of Missy’s custom-made creations, she bought a cheap kit at Target, along with a few bags of candy. She laid everything out on the large plank table in her mother’s crafting room. For years, her mother had used the space for her scrapbook projects; now, it occasionally served as a gift-wrap station.

  Victoria tried to approach the project with a festive attitude. At her side was a glass of Blackwood Cellars Christmas Red. She’d even chosen an appropriate Hallmark movie—Cooking with Love—featuring an arrogant celebrity chef with a reputation for being a bad boy. Unfortunately, the chef was a snob who wasn’t nearly as hot as Rafael. No tattoos either.

  Stop thinking about him.

  Easier said than done, especially since she and Rafael had gone from enemies to allies. If she allowed her mind to wander, even for a second, she’d end up drifting through old memories. The steamier, the better.

  She tested the walls of her gingerbread house, hoping the frosting had solidified enough to move on to the next step. But as she set the roof on top, the whole structure collapsed.

  Damn it. She had to be more patient. She propped the walls back up again, cementing them with few more daubs of frosting. To take the edge off her frayed nerves, she grabbed a handful of M&M’s and popped them in her mouth.

  “Are you certain that’s healthy?” Her mother stood in the doorway, wearing cashmere loungewear in a muted shade of royal blue. Unlike Victoria, Ginny Blackwood wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of faded sweatpants, even in the comfort of her own home. As always, her dark bob was perfectly coiffed, her makeup flawless.

  Victoria pushed the bowl of M&M’s aside. “I just had a few. I’ll make up for it on my run tomorrow.” Though she’d always been on the slender side, she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t obsessed over her weight, making up for any indulgences with bouts of vigorous exercise.

  Her mother took a few steps into the room. “I didn’t mean the candy, although refined sugar shouldn’t be a part of anyone’s diet. I meant—this.” She gestured to the gingerbread house.

  Victoria cringed. Did she look as pathetic as she felt? “I guess I caught the crafting bug. ’Tis the season, right?”

  “If I recall, the last time you attempted to make a gingerbread house, you blew up and threw the pieces across the room. Then you and Connor ate all the candy.” Her mother smiled. “One of the few times I’ve ever seen you lose your temper.”

  Only because Dad wasn’t around.

  The incident had occurred when Victoria was eight, during a December weekend at her family’s lodge at Big Bear Lake. She and Connor, along with her cousins, Marc and Brody, had gone up to the mountains to play in the snow. As was often the case during their trips to Big Bear, her father had stayed home due to his workload.

  His workload or his women? Having recently learned about her father’s string of extramarital affairs, Victoria now suspected he’d bowed out of their family’s Big Bear trips to cheat on her mother.

  “This gingerbread house is for Ben’s wedding, isn’t it?” her mother asked.

  Victoria knocked back the rest of her wine. “Afraid so. Missy had this big crafting weekend planned, but her maid of honor canceled. I’m helping her out. Or, rather, I’m trying to. But if this sample house is any indication of my crafting skills, I’m in big trouble.”

  Her mother pulled up a chair and sat across from Victoria. She took a peppermint from the candy bowl, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth. Though Victoria rarely saw her mother indulge in sweets, she had a fondness for peppermints and carried them in her purse.

  “Sweetie, I know how hard this breakup has been for you,” she said. “And I know you miss Ben. But trying to stay close to him this way isn’t healthy, and it’s not going to bring him back.”

  What?

  Victoria’s hand trembled as she reached for her wineglass. Seeing it was empty, she set it aside. She should have brought the whole damn bottle into the craft room. “What are you talking about? I don’t want him back.”

  Maybe she had at first. And maybe—just maybe—she’d been a little too weepy when she told her mother that Ben had broken off their engagement. But by now, Victoria realized she was better off without him.

  “It’s all right,” her mother said. “I know the truth. Brian told me.”

  “He told you what?” Alarm bells went off in Victoria’s head.

  “That you begged him for the chance to coordinate Ben’s wedding. That you still wanted to be involved in his life, even as an onlooker. I understand your feelings. But you’d be better off making a clean break.”

  Son of a bitch.

  Victoria opened her mouth, prepared to tell her mother the truth, then thought better of it. No matter how despicably her father behaved, her mother took his side. She rarely said or did anything to upset him, even at the expense of her children’s feelings.

  “The wedding’s less than three weeks away,” Victoria said. “Once it’s done, I doubt I’ll see much of Ben. Maybe at the occasional party or fund-raiser, but that’s it.” Or not, judging by her non-invitation to Chip Robinson’s holiday bash.

  “I hope so. Next year has to be better, right?” Her mother pointed to the gingerbread house. “That wall seems to be sagging. You might want to prop it up.”

  “Shit.” When her mother frowned, Victoria winced. “Sorry.” She straightened the wall, then added more frosting to the joints.

  “If you want to land a new beau, you’ll have to watch the foul language. Men don’t appreciate that kind of behavior from a lady.”

  Some men don’t mind. Victoria had a quick flash of memory, recalling the enthusiastic way Rafael had responded the first time she’d begged him to fuck her. Prim little Victoria had said the word “fuck.”And it had felt so good. As had the actual fucking.

  Nope, not going there. She cleared her mind of wicked thoughts. “Sorry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

  “Good girl. I stopped by to remind you I’m leaving for New York on Wednesday for my annual visit. I’ll be gone until December 21, but I’ll be back in time for the big wedding.” She blinked and looked away, as if trying to maintain her composure. “I still wish it was your wedding.”

  A month ago, Victoria might have agreed with her. But after weeks of taking orders from Ben, she’d lost any desire to be his wife. “I’m fine. Really. And if Ben and Missy are happy together, then I wish them the best.”

  “You’re putting up a brave front, dear. As a lady should.” Her mother stood. “Are you sure your father can’t ask someone else to coordinate this wedding? Then you could join me in New York.”

  A tempting offer. Victoria had accompanied her mother twice before, and she’d enjoyed both visits immensely. New York during the holidays was a magical place. Plus
, the visits allowed her to spend time with her glamorous Aunt Becca, who took great pride in showing off her city. But her father would never let her abandon ship.

  Besides, if she bailed on the wedding, she’d still owe him. And she’d miss the chance to work with Rafael.

  “Maybe next year. Right now, I have too much going on. Even though I’m not in charge of the Holiday Open House, Dad wants me there for the entire weekend.”

  “I understand. Make sure to take some time for yourself.”

  “I’m going up to Big Bear for New Year’s Eve. With Connor and Jess. And Brody’s coming with April. It should be a lot of fun.” Even if she’d be a fifth wheel, she loved the thought of escaping to the mountains. Days on the slopes and cozy nights by the fire. The trip also gave her a legitimate excuse not to coordinate the Blackwood Cellars New Year’s bash.

  Her mother went rigid. “But you’ll be here for Christmas, right?”

  “Where else would I go? I live here.”

  “I’m worried Connor won’t be coming because your father’s still mad at him for starting that little winery.”

  Then stand up for him, damn it.

  Victoria hated the fact that her brother wasn’t allowed home to visit, even though he only lived fifteen minutes away. But her father still hadn’t forgiven him for betraying the family by leaving Blackwood Cellars. And her mother had been too intimidated to speak out on Connor’s behalf.

  Her mother gave a lengthy sigh. “It’s going to be so much quieter without Connor or Darren around.”

  “Wait. Why isn’t Darren coming for Christmas?” Victoria’s older brother, Darren, was such a kiss-ass that he never missed a family event. He relished the chance to brag about his accomplishments as the most favored child.

  “Didn’t he tell you? He and Melanie are joining her parents for a tropical vacation. They’re leaving for the Caribbean on Christmas Eve.” She gave a weak smile. “But he’ll be back in time for New Year’s.”

  All the more reason to be gone.

  Her mother turned to leave. “Don’t stay up too late, all right?”

  “All right.” After her mother left, Victoria grabbed another handful of M&M’s. As she went to attach the gingerbread roof, the whole house collapsed. Rather than attempt to fix it again, she headed into the kitchen to top up her wine.

  First thing tomorrow, she was calling Rafael.

  Chapter 12

  Seventeen Days Until the Wedding

  “Two point eight million.”

  “Are you serious?” Rafael glanced over at Araceli, who had her eyes glued to her phone.

  “No—wait. Victoria’s house is worth two point nine million. I had the wrong address.” When Rafael shook his head in disbelief, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “What? Her dad’s a millionaire.”

  “I know, but still…” Two point nine million. He and his cousins had been thrilled when they found a three-bedroom apartment for less than two thousand a month. By contrast, Victoria lived in a mansion. The vast chasm between his life and hers couldn’t be more evident.

  He exited the I-15 at Rancho California Road, following a route similar to the one he’d taken to reach the Blackwood Cellars Estate. Most of the high-end homes in the Temecula Valley were located around the major wineries. Huge, sprawling estates with pools, private stables, and acres of land. With the properties so spread out, the individual addresses were hard to discern in the dark. He turned on his high beams and slowed his car to a crawl.

  “Did you know she was this rich when you hooked up with her?” Araceli asked.

  “I knew she had money. She was staying in a luxury suite at the Villa del Sol. That doesn’t come cheap.” He’d assumed she was from a wealthy family, but not at this level.

  Thinking about it brought back the insecurity he’d experienced in Baja after she left him. Like he wasn’t worthy. He was just some guy she’d slept with and abandoned once her trip ended.

  But she hadn’t left him by choice. That much was clear from the story she’d shared with him. If her father hadn’t called her home, who was to say what would have happened?

  Besides, being rich didn’t make anyone a better person. Case in point, her dad might be a millionaire, but he was also a major asshole. Rafael would take his own family over the Blackwoods any day.

  “Do you think we can come back during the day and swim in her pool?” Araceli asked. “It comes with water features.”

  “This is a job. Got it?”

  She gave him a pouty face. “Don’t be such a grump. Aren’t you excited to see her again?”

  Too excited. He needed to tone down his enthusiasm and behave like a professional.

  But he couldn’t deny he’d been pleased when Victoria called him on Tuesday morning, less than twenty-four hours after their meeting. With a heavy dose of sarcasm, she updated him on Missy’s latest demands, including her request to build four custom-made gingerbread houses. After he agreed to help, he recruited Araceli, and they set up a meeting for Wednesday night.

  He pulled up to the gated entry and gave their name at the intercom. Once the gate opened, he drove up the crest of a hill until he reached an enormous Spanish-style mansion. The kind that resembled an old-school, colonialist hacienda. Which seemed on brand for the Blackwoods.

  “Holy shit,” Araceli said. “This place is huge. Like, reality-show huge.”

  He parked in the circular driveway, near a garage built to accommodate five or six cars. All of which probably cost five times more than his beat-up Honda Civic. As they got out, Araceli led the way, practically skipping in her eagerness to reach the front door. Massive stone pillars framed the entrance to the mansion, leading to a tall, arched doorway. He suddenly felt underdressed in a gray Henley and jeans.

  He pushed past his uncertainty. Victoria had invited him here. When she answered the door, clad in a UCLA Bruins sweatshirt and black yoga pants, his tension ebbed away. This was a Victoria he could relate to.

  “Thanks so much for coming.” She smiled at Araceli. “Hi. I’m Victoria Blackwood.”

  “Araceli Torres. This place is something else. Any chance we could have a tour?”

  Rafael grabbed his cousin’s arm. “No tours.” He flashed Victoria an apologetic smile. “We don’t want to waste your time.”

  “I set up everything in the great room so you can see what I’m dealing with,” she said. “Do you want anything to drink? Some wine?”

  Araceli grinned. “I’ll bet you never run out of wine, right? Do you have your own wine cellar? All climate-controlled and stuff?”

  Victoria led them down the hallway. “We do indeed. It holds two hundred and fifty bottles.”

  “Shit. Really?” Araceli looked as if she was about to barrage Victoria with more questions, but she was rendered speechless when they entered the great room.

  The spacious room had open beam ceilings and burnished hardwood floors. The rugs underfoot looked like real Persian originals, not IKEA knockoffs. In one corner stood a ten-foot-tall Christmas tree, decorated with European-style glass ornaments—the kind that went for sixty bucks a pop. Along one wall, wide sliding glass doors led to a covered patio.

  Victoria showed them to a cream-colored sectional that faced a natural stone fireplace. Rubbermaid bins were stacked on the floor.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “I have some mulled wine simmering on the stove. Or there’s half a bottle of cabernet I opened at dinner.”

  Araceli rubbed her hands together. “Mulled wine, please.”

  “None for me.” He never drank if he was driving. Not anymore. “But I’ll have some water, thanks.”

  As Victoria went to get the beverages, Araceli peeked into one of the bins. She brought out a white glass ornament. “Ooh. Shiny. These are going to be a bitch to write on.”

  “You think you can handle it?” he asked. “If not, Victoria can put out a call on TaskRabbit or Fiverr.”

  “Nena can do it. My sister’s done wedding invitations, place cards, you na
me it. I’m putting her on calligraphy detail. I want to do the gingerbread houses. I already checked with Luz, and she’s going to help.”

  “Just don’t let her boys anywhere near those houses.”

  “No kidding. She put together a cute gingerbread chalet last weekend but made the mistake of leaving it on the kitchen table. The boys gnawed all the candy off it.”

  Victoria returned carrying a tray with two mugs of mulled wine and a glass of ice water. She set it on the coffee table. “Here you go.”

  “Can we see the gingerbread houses?” Araceli asked. “I want to know if they’re the same ones they use on Kids in the Kitchen. You know, that baking show on the Food Network? They had to do a gingerbread challenge this week. One of them made a church, and she melted Jolly Ranchers to create the stained-glass windows.”

  Take it down a notch. Rafael wanted to muzzle his overenthusiastic cousin, but Victoria didn’t seem to mind. “Before I show you the kits, you have to see my pathetic attempt at making one. This is why I need your help.” She opened a smaller bin and revealed the contents. The broken pieces of gingerbread in no way resembled a house.

  “Yikes,” Araceli said. “What happened?”

  “It kept collapsing, so I gave up. And then I took out my frustrations with a kitchen mallet.” Victoria took a sip of wine. “Highly recommended for anger management.”

  Rafael chuckled. Off-duty Victoria was a lot more fun than Blackwood Cellars Victoria. Not that he could relax his guard entirely. Since Victoria lived at home, her father could make an appearance at any time. Something told him the man would not condone the casual nature of their meeting. “Your dad’s not going to be upset we’re here, is he?”

  “Sorry he was so rude to you on Monday,” Victoria said. “He’s out for the evening at his cigar club. And my mother just left for New York City. The only one here besides me is Shirley, our housekeeper.”

  Rafael was grateful he didn’t have to deal with her father’s scrutiny. He didn’t need anyone making him feel inadequate just because he wasn’t a millionaire.