by Julie Kenner
"She would have told you if it had," Alex said, avoiding the mention of the ring. Syd had played a large part in revealing that Julia's engagement ring wasn't really a diamond after all, and Alex was still embarrassed both for Roman and for his girlfriend's role in the whole fiasco.
"Maybe," Roman said. "Or maybe she doesn't believe the rumors. Eventually, though, she'll hear enough and then"
"What? Then she'll know the truth? Roman, buddy, that's not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, the idea is to be honest with the woman you love."
"I'll tell her when the time is right."
"All I'm saying is that you shouldn't keep secrets from your wife-to-be, my man. That kind of thing will come back to bite you."
"It's no secret that I love her," Roman said. And, really, wasn't that all that mattered?
* * *
Chapter Nine
Things to Do the Night Before Your Wedding:
Paint your toenails
Take a long bubble bath
Reminisce with your sister
Call every old boyfriend and gloat, gloat, gloat!
from The Bad Girls' Guide to a Very Good Wedding
Not even half an hour in a room with her pop, and already Julia had a whopper of a headache. For five minutes, Marv had been blustering on about his civil rights and kangaroo courts and a bunch of other nonsense. God, she needed some Advil.
"It's a plot, that's what it is. A plot to make me spend my attorney's fees. They think they'll break me, but they won't. Damned hicks."
"Pop, you hit a judge. There's going to be red tape. That's just the way it is."
Marv snorted. "Hell, I didn't mean anything by it."
"Didn't mean anything? Then why'd you hit him?"
His hands went out, shoulders rising in a Gallic shrug. "Just one'a those things, baby." He cracked his neck, then inhaled deeply. "Feels good, ya know? Like a load off."
Julia just stared.
Syd moved away to answer a knock at the door, then came back inside, a yellow piece of paper clutched in her hand.
"What you got there, girl?" Marv asked.
"Be nice to me, Pop. This is your get-out-of-jail-not-very-free card."
"So we can leave?" Julia asked. "All the paperwork's taken care of?"
"It's done. Fortunately Judge Strauss is a sweetie. He could have held Pop for a lot longer."
Marv snorted, and Julia waited for the derogatory comment that was sure to follow, but none came. She licked her lips, feeling slightly off balance.
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she stopped him as he was heading for the door. "Hold up a sec, Pop. What's going on in that head of yours? What did you mean 'a load off? Are you dropping all this feud nonsense?" That couldn't be right. Could it? Could she be that lucky?
"I got screwed," he said. "Make no mistake. But" He trailed off into another shrug, and Julia started to breathe again.
"So you're really okay? You smack the judge in the face and suddenly everything's all right?"
"Eh, you know."
"What I know is that you have to stop hitting as therapy, Pop!"
"Why? And you ain't one to complain, since this whole mess is your fault anyway."
"Mine!"
"You're the reason the wound got opened now, aren't you? I was controlling my temper just fine back in Jersey."
"You've got to be kidding me! I barely even knew Texas was on the map back then. If you'd asked me whether or not to put a motel here, I would have asked why you'd want to rent rooms to cows."
"Well, see there, girl. That's my point. You don't know squat about the motel business."
Julia closed her eyes and fought the urge to clench her fists. "Not then, you're right. But I do now." Marv opened his mouth, probably to argue, and Julia held up a hand to shut him up. "Never mind. That's not important. You're really over this stupid grudge? Really? You're okay with Roman? With the wedding?"
"Hell no."
"Pop! You said"
"I said I got a load off my chest, and I did. Sonn-tags stuck together years ago, just like a family ought to, and I won't fault them for that. Not anymore. But that doesn't change a thing between you and that boy."
Julia just stood there, her hands spread and her mouth open, begging the right words to come to her mind. None did.
"I'm not mad at you, Princess. I'm disappointed. Disappointed in you and in my failure as a father. And hers as a mother," he said, waving his hand at Myrna.
"Pop!" Syd and Julia cried in unison.
"It's true. We musta failed you. Ain't that right, babydoll?"
Myrna examined her nails. "I don't know, Marv. I just don't"
"Don't be such a wuss. You know what? Go check on the limo. Sooner it gets here, sooner we can get the fuck out."
Myrna left, obviously happy to be out of there and not at all concerned about leaving her daughters with the wolf.
"I mean it, Princess," Marv went on, without so much as missing a beat. "Your mother and I musta failed. Why else would you be marrying a man you hardly know? A man you ain't got nothing in common with? And a man who probably only wants you for your money? Huh? You tell me that."
Tears had sprung to Julia's eyes, and she wiped them away violently. "You're wrong, Pop. You are so very, very wrong." She loved Roman. With all her heart and soul, she loved this man.
The door opened once again, and this time, Myrna popped her head back in. "The limo's outside," she said. "And the clerk says there are just a few papers you need to sign, and then we can go."
" 'Bout damn time," Marv said. He stood up and crossed to where Syd and Julia stood huddled together. Without any warning, he pulled them into a bear hug, surprising Julia as much as he squished her. "You two may be screwups, but I love youse," he said. "You're my babies. You remember that."
Julia nodded, her eyes feeling a little misty. Her father might be crass and obnoxious, but she'd never doubted his love. She supposed he was a lot like the devil you knew. But what, she wondered, did that make Roman? The devil she didn't?
No ! She did know him. And he knew her. They were soul mates. And nothing her father said was going to change that.
She shuddered, scared by the doubt that had invaded her thoughts, and decided to simply chalk it up to a very bad morning. She followed her father out into the hallway, where Wesley and Arvin led them back through the bull pen to the reception area. Roman was there, Alex beside him, both with Styro-foam cups of what had to be really bad police station coffee.
Roman looked at her with such love and concern on his face that all her doubts disappeared in a whoosh. He moved toward her briskly, then took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. And right then, all the stupid, horrible, unreasonable doubts that had crept into her head over the last few hours didn't matter one whit. She knew that, no matter what, everything would be okay.
Too bad that assessment was blown to bits when the front door to the station opened and Sarah and Robert Sonntag marched over the threshold.
"Well, well, well," Marv said. "Lookey what the cat dragged in."
Julia inched toward her father. Marv might officially be over his grudge, but apparently bits of dislike still lingered. "Pop, watch yourself."
Marv glared, then gave one quick nod. "Come on, Princess. I think we all should just get outta here."
A fabulous plan. And if she was lucky, she could spend the rest of the day in bed with her covers over her head.
"Now, wait just a minute," Robert Sonntag said. "We need to speak to Julia and Roman for a moment. It's about the wedding."
Marv snorted. "Oh, the wedding . We'll just see about that, won't we."
"Daddy!"
"Don't 'Daddy' me. I'm against this wedding, and that ain't no secret. I have no idea what my little girl is doing with that boy," he said, pointing an accusing finger toward Roman. "Lord knows she's had better offers."
"Pop, please ."
"Please nothing. It's the God's honest truth."
Robe
rt Sonntag's face turned a dozen shades of purple. "Now you just watch what you say, you low-class Jersey shyster. If you think"
"Robert." Sarah Sonntag spoke the word softly but firmly. "Let's not make this any more heated than it already is."
Robert Sonntag snorted, and as he did, Julia saw the proud man under the sophisticated, old-money facade. The man whose family had worked the land for generations. A man used to doing battle, who wouldn't hesitate to go a few rounds with her pop.
Hell, he'd done it before. He sure as hell wouldn't hesitate to do it again.
"If we could just speak to you and Roman for a few moments," Sarah said to Julia.
Julia cast a glance toward Marv. "Go on and head out," she said. "I'll see you guys later."
"Like hell we will." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, dug in for life or, at least, for a long battle.
Julia sighed. Whatever . She moved over to Roman and took his hand, squeezed it. "The Montagues and the Capulets had nothing on us," she said as they moved hand in hand across the room to the corner that Robert and Sarah had staked out.
"No kidding," Roman said. "Why do we have to talk now?" he asked as they approached his dad. "Don't you think it would make more sense to wait until tempers cool?"
"Possibly," Robert said. "But I think Sarah and I owe it to you and Julia to give you as much fair notice as possible."
Julia had no idea what was coming, but her stomach twisted just a bit anyway.
Sarah reached out and took Julia's free hand. "Please understand this is nothing against you. We adore you, darling. You do know that, right?"
Julia nodded, wary. "Urn, yeah. But"
"But I'm afraid we can't allow the wedding to be held on the property."
She blinked, as stunned as if Robert Sonntag had lashed out and punched her in the nose.
"But the invitations. The arrangements. Everything's all set. Why now? Why all of a sudden?"
But she knew the answer. Her father. And that answer was confirmed in spades as they turned in unison to look across the room toward Marv.
Panic clutched at her throat. This was a nightmare. The day had officially hit absolute rock bottom.
"But it's just days away! How can I"
She didn't have a chance to finish the thought, because the front door burst open once again, and this time a man strode intall, lean and totally familiar.
With sandy hair, aristocratic cheekbones and an old-money bearing despite his new-money bank account, Bart Winston looked as at home in a small Texas police station as he did at the Lincoln Center.
His eyes skimmed the lot of them, finally landing on Julia.
"Bart," she said, stupidly. "What are you doing here?"
He spread his arms, smiled wide. "What am I doing here?" he repeated. "Julia! Baby! Is that any kind of greeting for the man of your dreams?"
* * *
Chapter Ten
Smile! Smile! Smile!
It's your wedding after all, and you're going to be photographed left and right. So remember to show your pearly whites even if the caterer is late or if Uncle Bob gets drunk and dances the polka during the couple's first dance.
No pearly whites, you say? No problem. Before your wedding, have your teeth professionally whitened. Trust us. The investment will be worth it. Those photographs will be on your wall forever, after all!
from "Clever Tips and Ideas for Your Wedding," Bridal Bouquet magazine, Spring
Her dreams?
Roman turned the words over in his head, trying to find some other interpretation of "man of your dreams," something that didn't mean that the Aber-crombie & Fitch model who'd just walked through the door somehow believed he was attached to Julia. The woman Roman loved.
Nope. Nothing. Not one single thing came to mind.
"Julia?"
She was rubbing her temples, looking almost as upset as he felt. That gave him some hope. The fact that she hadn't immediately called the guy a lunatic, though, gave him pause.
"Julia," he repeated. "Who the hell is that guy?"
"Bart Winston," the model said, his pretty-boy looks marred only a little by the thick Jersey accent.
The interloper held out a hand, one that Roman was tempted to slap away. He fought the temptation. Under the circumstances, he thought that being on his best behavior was the smartest plan. He gave the hand a quick shake, happy to find it limp and slightly clammy. He immediately marked the guy as a pansy-ass. If it came down to it, Roman could take the jerk out. No problem.
Bart grinned, then jerked a thumb toward Julia. "She's my girl."
"Bart!" Julia yelped, her face turning beet red. "I am not your girl."
"Julia," Roman said, looking from one to the other, "what the devil is going on?"
She turned to him, the look of frustration on her face directed as much at him as it was at everybody else in the room. "Damn it," she muttered, then took his elbow. She pointed a finger at Bart, her manicured nail looking almost lethal. "You. Stay here."
She turned to her parents next. "Go. The limo's outside. Just go."
"But"
She held up a hand, turning just slightly so she faced her sister. "You're supposed to be my maid of honor. Doesn't that mean you have to keep me sane?" Her voice was climbing now, easing toward hysteria. Roman reached out, wanting to calm her, then thought better of it. He tugged his hand back and shoved it in his pocket as Julia shrilled, "Do something!" at her sister.
"Pop, Mom. Just get in the limo, okay?"
As Syd and Alex ushered the protesting Marv and Myrna out of the building, Wesley sidled up to Roman. "You know, if there's gonna be a scene"
"Give it a rest, Wesley. It's under control."
Wesley looked over at Arvin, standing in the doorway, his uniform making him look large and imposing. Arvin nodded, and Wesley continued. "I just mean it's not gonna look good if there's a brawl in the police station. You end up going a round with that boy, you do it outside."
"I'm not going a round with anyone," Roman said. But then he shot another look at Bart. "Okay. If we come to blows, I promise we'll do it outside."
"Thanks."
"Roman" Julia's insistent voice caught his attention, and he immediately looked up. She nodded meaningfully toward his parents.
"Mom, Dad, I think it's time for you to go."
"Roman, we don't"
He put his hand firmly on his mother's arm. "It's a misunderstanding. We'll get this worked out all of itlater."
"But"
This time his father was the one who shut his mother off. "Come on, Sarah. Let Roman work this out."
She cast a wary look toward Bart, but she went. And as soon as they disappeared through the door, every proprietary, testosterone-driven instinct welled up in him. Screw that they were in a police station, and screw that two uniformed officers were standing by. It was just him and Bart, and Roman intended to have this out. Right then. Right there.
"Roman."
Julia had moved right in front of his line of sight, afraid that if she didn't, he'd launch himself at Bart, and she'd end up with a father, a fiance and an ex-boyfriend all being arrested on the same day. That might be the kind of thing Jerry Springer lived for, but it was so not her style.
"Calm down," she said, holding on to his wrist and determined to make that fire fade from his eyes. She understoodsort ofwhat had set him off, but from her perspective, Roman was totally overreacting. Bart was old news. Very old news. "Just because we're in a police station doesn't mean you have to take advantage of the facilities," she added, hoping he could hear the tease in her voice.
His eyes stayed hard for a moment, and she wondered if he'd even heard her. Then he seemed to shake himself. "Right. Sorry." He drew in a breath and faced her. "You want to give me that explanation now? Tell me why this guy thinks he's the man of your dreams?"
Not really, since she didn't have much of an explanation to give. She wasn't, however, too keen on the tone of his voicewhich
meant that what she wanted to give him was a piece of her mind. "There," she said, pointing to the door to the hallway. "I think for what I've got to say, we need a little privacy." * * *
As soon as they were alone in the hall, she let him have it, and Roman realized that while he knew Julia well, he'd never yet experienced the full fury of her temper.
She might be blond, but she would give a stereotypical Irish redhead a run for her money. That was for sure.
At the moment, his very blond, very angry fiancee stood in front of him, her eyes wild, her finger poking him in the chest.
"Explanation?" she said. "You think I owe you an explanation ? Are you nuts?"
Apparently he was, because he felt his mouth open and heard his voice saying, "I just want to know who the guy is, Julia. And what the hell he's doing here."
The finger that had been accosting him pulled back. Now one eyebrow lifted in the delicate arch that he so loved to rub with his thumb. Now, though, it was rising with irritation. "Watch your tone, Roman Sonntag. I'm not the bad guy here. I didn't invite him. And I have no idea what he's doing here."
"I think he made what he's doing here perfectly clear. He's expecting to give you a ring. Or if not that, he at least wants to get in your pants."
" Roman !" she hissed. She took his arm and pulled him farther into the hall.
He took two calming breaths. "I'm sorry," he said, this time managing to keep his voice calm and rational. "But you know what I'm asking. Just tell me."
For the first time since Bart had burst through the door, Julia seemed to wilt. When he'd first arrived, Roman had watched as she'd shifted from frustration to downright stiffness. The trouble was, he couldn't tell if her ramrod straight posture had stemmed from surprise or guilt. Or if it was something else entirely.
Now the tenseness seemed to ease from her body, and she melted into one of the molded plastic chairs. "Oh, God, Roman. This is a nightmare. A total nightmare. And you! You're not helping matters."