by Julie Kenner
In the end, though, she didn't say anything at all, just let him walk her to the Inn and open the car door for her. And then, as he got into his own car and drove off toward the winery, she let herself go.
And cried.
* * *
The Texas sun was already frying the pavement by the time Julia and Breckin reached the Sonntags' home. "Thanks again," Julia said as they walked up the flagstone path to the front door. "You're really saving my ass."
"Well, it's a cute ass," Breckin said. "I don't mind saving it." He flashed her a haughty look. "At least not since you've now apologized properly."
"Right." She had, too. When he'd returned the call, she'd all but groveled. What the hell? She probably had been out of line. And she had to admit it was nice having him back in her corner. Breckin was tall and blond and lean, and somehow managed to look like a man who'd be equally at home starring in Queer Eye for the Straight Guy as he would fighting with a supplier about exactly the right napkins to ensure the perfect look for a table.
And she had to admit that her groveling had paid off. Already, Breckin had confirmed the photographer, the videographer, the caterer, and the makeup artist. He'd also convinced Julia that she and Syd and Vivien should not be having Julia's bachelorette party at Cuvee, a local bistro. " Quelle dull, darling," he'd said. And then he'd promptly booked them an evening package at the Hill Country Spa.
It had, Julia thought, made up for every nutty thing he'd done over the last few weeks.
Now they were at the Sonntags' in order to meet the delivery truck bringing the tables, chairs and linens. The linens wouldn't go on until Saturday morn-ing, but Breckin wanted to set up the tables now so that he could, as he put it, "see the full tableau."
At this point, Julia was happy to just tag along. From her perspective, Breckin was fast filling the role of superhero. She was even convinced that he'd do something about her flower crisis. When she'd told him that Syd was handling that aspect, he'd looked at her with shock. "Julia, darling, you put Syd in charge of the flowers?" He'd taken her hand and squeezed. "Honey, you are desperate."
He'd immediately called Syd and co-opted the project.
"But what are you going to do?" Julia asked.
"Honey, do you trust me?"
She'd thought about it and decided that she did.
He'd kissed her on the cheek and that was that. The flowers, she supposed, she was leaving to fate. Or, more specifically, to a gay man with exquisite taste.
Well , she thought, it could be worse .
Sarah Sonntag answered the door, her smile welcoming. "Julia! Breckin! Darlings, come in. Come in."
Breckin and Sarah did the air kiss routine, and then Sarah took them through the house and out the back door to the expansive yard where the supply company was just beginning to bring in the tables and chairs. Breckin put his hands on his hips, nodded at the women, then made a shooshing motion. "Go," he ordered. "I have my work cut out for me here."
As Sarah and Julia stared at each other, Breckin held up a hand and hollered to one of the workers. "You there! What are you thinking? That table is blocking the view of the creek! One foot to the left, man!" And as they watched, he stormed off over the grass, a general charging into battle.
"My," Sarah said.
Julia nodded. That about summed it up. And she was so glad she'd pulled him back in to help her. Kiki might be a case, but she definitely knew who to contact to get the job done.
Sarah took her arm and steered her inside. "While Breckin terrifies the hired help, I have something 1 want to show you."
Julia dutifully followed the older woman up the stairs to the master bedroom. A garment bag was laid across the bed, and Sarah pointed at it, a cat-ate-the-canary expression on her face. "Roman mentioned the trouble you'd had with your dress. I think this will fit you."
"Oh." Julia took a step forward, not knowing what to expect. She'd already had a ring foisted on her. Was she about to endure a wedding dress, too?
Sarah was busy unzipping the thing, and as soon as she pulled it out, Julia knew that there was no wayno waythat she was wearing that dress. She took a step backward. "Urn, that's really sweet of you, Mrs. Sonntag, but Breckin already has a dress coming in for me. You know. With a train, and beading. The whole nine yards."
"Of course. Yes. I shouldn't have assumed"
The older woman looked so disappointed that Julia felt her will begin to melt. No . She was not settling on the dress issue. The dress made the wedding. She was going to be a princess, damn it. And that was all there was to it.
"I had hoped that Kiki would wear this, you know. But she told me when she was sixteen that I should just forget that." Sarah smiled softly. "I hung on to it hoping she would change her mind. I know it's not the most amazing dress ever, but I don't think it's that bad. Do you?"
Julia shook her head. "No, it's actually quite beautiful." It wasn't. In fact, it was rather ugly, made out of some coarse material that had slightly yellowed with age and improper storage. It had a high neckline that wouldn't show any cleavage at all, and horizontal piping that cut right across the breast line. It was a sheath, and had no waistline, and in the back, a big bow was positioned right over the bridal butt.
"Was it yours?" Surely no sane woman would have worn this dress.
"Yes. My mother made it for her own wedding, and then I wore it. I thought, since you didn't have a dress, that you could wear it. You're going to be part of the family, after all."
"I well, I'd be honored. But, you know, I've already paid for the dress, and my mother helped Breckin and me pick it out, and it's a design that she's dreamed of seeing me in. You know. With a train and all." Lie, lie, lie. Oh, surely she was going to hell for that one. But she couldn't wear that dress. Not Julia Spinelli, the girl who'd never in her life made a fashion faux pas.
"Of course." Sarah licked her lips. "How about you just try it on. Your mother can see you in her dress on your wedding day, and I can see you now. Just for a moment. The dress won't last another generation. You're the last to have the chance to wear it."
She didn't want to, but she figured it was the least she could do. And so she sucked in a breath, tried to keep the grimace off her face, and started to strip down.
The dress wasn't any better on. If anything, it was worse, especially considering the way that ridiculous bow bounced when she walked.
Sarah, however, apparently didn't realize the extent of the atrocity. She clasped her hands over her chest and sighed. "Julia, sweetheart, you look beautiful." Tears filled her eyes. "Thank you, darling. Thank you for trying it on."
"I sure." A little demon inside her almost offered to wear the thing at the wedding. Thank God she caught herself in time. "I should probably change and get outside. I'm sure Breckin could use some help."
"Of course."
She started to pull off the dress, but her new ring snagged on the material. Sarah helped her maneuver her way out of the thing, and as Julia stood there in her underwear, Sarah took her hand. "Oh, Julia, darling, is this the ring Roman bought for you?"
Julia nodded and then, unable to help herself, she started to cry. "Damn it! I'm sorry! I don't mean to" She trailed off, wiping at the tears that dribbled down her cheek.
"Honey, what is it?"
"It's just well, I loved the old ring."
"The fake? Well, yes, it was beautiful." Sarah Sonntag cupped Julia's face in her palms. "Brides are supposed to be emotional, you know. And I guess grooms are, too. Roman wanted to get you something worthy of you. He loves you dearly. And he wanted you to have something you could truly cherish."
Julia nodded, trying desperately not to cry again. She understood what Sarah was saying. The only problem was that she'd had a ring she truly cherishedOlga's fake one. And if Roman couldn't even see into her heart when she flat-out told him what she wanted, then how could she believe that her fiance really knew her at all?
"So?" Alex asked, his voice tinny through the weak cell connection. "H
ow did she like it?"
"Like what?"
Alex laughed. "Come on, buddy. It's all over town that you bought Julia the biggest, baddest engagement ring this town's ever seen. How did she like it?"
"She loved it," Roman said, but he frowned as he spoke. She hadn't loved it. And her reaction had baffled him.
"Curb your enthusiasm, man. You're burning up the phone lines here."
"Sorry." Roman got up and went to the window. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to take care of her. Provide for her. It was a caveman attitude, but damned if it wasn't his attitude. And the fact that Julia had different ideas about how she wanted to be taken care of was messing with his sense of order in the universe.
"Spill," Alex ordered.
"She liked the fake ring," Roman admitted. "I bought her the most amazing ring I could afford no, I can't afford itand she still would rather have the fake one."
"So give her the fake one. What's the problem?"
If only it were that simple. Roman sighed. "She offered to buy Sonntag House so that we could use the proceeds to fund the winery."
"Marv? He must love that. He wins after all."
"Not Marv. Julia. Apparently she has a trust fund. She doesn't have access yet, but she is allowed to use the funds for real estate purchases."
"Ah," Alex said. "Suddenly it all becomes so dear."
"What?"
"Your attitude."
"Alex," Roman said, a hint of warning in his voice.
"Get mad at me if you want, buddy, but I'm laying it out for you. This woman is the best thing that's ever happened to you. If she has more money than you do, then that's just too damn bad."
"It's not that simple," Roman said. He wanted to take care of her. Wanted to wrap her up in his love and keep her safe. Wanted to be able to step in and fix her problems. And it rankled that he couldn't even fix his own. "It's not that simple," he repeated firmly. "I love her, but it's just not."
"Yeah? Well, maybe it should be."
"Julia Spinelli! You cannot just sit there with mud on your face and not tell us what's wrong. This is your bachelorette party! The operative word being party !" Vivien crossed her arms over her chest, the stern expression marred only a little bit by the fluffy white spa robe she wore.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Julia said. This was supposed to be her bachelorette outing with her bridesmaids. Sans Kiki, of course, who was hopefully going to arrive in time for the wedding. Unfortunately, the incident with Roman at the jewelry store, and then the talk later with Sarah, had soured Julia's mood. Morethey had confused her. "I'm just a little distracted."
Viv and Syd exchanged a look.
"What?" Julia demanded.
"Cold feet?" Syd asked.
"No." Julia shook her head. She tried to frown, but the caked mud had pretty much set her features into one singular expression. "I don't know," she reluctantly admitted.
"It's about that ring, isn't it?" Syd asked. "I knew that stupid fake ring would get you in trouble."
"I love that ring," Julia said. "Would you please get over the fact that the stone is fake?"
"I will if you'll tell me what the problem is."
Julia shrugged. "I don't know. I guess" She trailed off, because she did know. She just didn't want to say it out loud. "It's just that I don't think Roman's comfortable with me having money." There. She'd put it out there.
Viv gaped at her. "Your father is Marv Spinelli. I tried to foist a prenup on the guy. Are you saying he just now realized you've got funds?"
"Well, he knew about my family, of course. But I don't think it's even the money so much. It's just that I don't know."
"Oh, sweetie," Syd said sympathetically.
"And when I suggested a business partnership, he practically ran screaming in the other direction. I don't know if the money makes him nervous or if he thinks I've got no head for business, but either way it well, it bothered me. And then top that with this business about the ring, and I guess it just made me realize how little we know about each other. I mean, really know." She licked her lips. "Does that make sense?"
Another look passed between her sister and her friend. "Honey, that was our perspective weeks ago. And you read us the riot act and completely turned us around. Remember? You swore up and down that you and Roman were perfect and would be perfect together."
"And you guys believed me?"
Syd shrugged. "The man's crazy in love with you. I'd have to be blind not to see that."
"It's true. He's a goner," Viv agreed.
Julia managed a smile, the mud cracking on her face as she did so. "You know, you guys are right. I'm just feeling nervy. The wedding, and Marv being such a pain. But Roman does love me and I love him. And that's the bottom line, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Right. I've got a beautiful wedding in less than two days, Breckin actually managed to find me a gown that he's driving to San Antonio tonight to pick up, and there's no way I'm going to spoil it by worrying about stupid little things."
She looked around the room, squinting in the dim light. "So where is it? This is a party, right?"
"Where's what?" Syd asked.
"The champagne, silly. Aren't we three supposed to get totally tipsy? This is girls' night out, right? And girls, I'm dying to get totally wasted."
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Your Bridal Checklist
What you should be doing two days before the wedding: NOTHING. This is your time to enjoy. By now, everything should have been delegated. Relax, refresh, and restore. Trust us, honey. You want to save your energy for the honeymoon .
from The Organized Bride
The next morning, Julia had to admit that maybe spa night with the girls had been just a little too fun. Chat least they'd drunk a little too much champagne. Because as she stood up there with Roman under the arbor while the minister walked them through the service, all she could think about was how she really, really, really needed to sit down.
Fortunately, as the bride, there wasn't much to do other than walk down the aisle, say her lines on cue, and kiss the groom.
Also fortunately, this hangover would be gone by the wedding tomorrow. And, if she was lucky, and if the aspirin did the trick, it would also be gone by the rehearsal dinner.
"Are you okay?" Roman asked her, pulling her aside as the rest of the wedding party mingled.
"I'm fine. Just a little too much fun last night."
He examined her face, his own expression worried. Then he picked up her left hand, the one with the new ring on it. He looked at it, and his eyes darkened. Julia held her breath, surprised by how much she hoped he would tug it off her finger and ask if they could have a do-over of the previous day.
But that didn't happen. Instead, he simply turned her hand over and kissed her palm.
"I love you," he said.
For some reason, the words made her want to cry. Her answer, however, was the complete truth: "I love you, too."
She wanted to talk more, though she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to say. But she didn't have time. The photographer was there, wanting to take the "before" candids that Breckin insisted they have made for fabulous scrapbooks.
Breckin himself was bustling about, trying to hurry things up so that he could sweep Julia off to the local dry cleaners/alterations place, where he'd bribed the seventy-three-year-old seamstress into closing shop for the day so that she could concentrate on nothing except the alterations to Julia's newand totally fabulousprincess wedding dress.
"Julia?" Syd sidled up. "You look lost."
"Just a little overwhelmed. And a little hungover."
"Well, everything's coming together."
Julia nodded. She had to agree. Considering that just a few days ago the wedding had more loose ends than a cheap pashmina, she was amazed at how smoothly everything was running.
"Julia!" Breckin called, moving toward her in long, determined strides. "You can stand around mooning after you'
re a married woman. Right now, you need to be photographed." He made a shooing motion toward Syd. "Don't you have a list of things to be working on? Go on. Shoo!"
Syd saluted, then made a face, making Julia laugh.
"You laugh now, but you'll thank me when we pull off the wedding of the century."
"I'm already thanking you," she said. She pulled herself up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Breckin. I really couldn't have done it without you."
"I told you that when you fired me."
Since he had a point, she didn't bother responding. She and Roman followed him around the house, then went through the motions for the photographer, taking a lot of staged shots that were designed to look candid. Julia fought the urge to protest. She'd decided to trust Breckin, and trust him she would.
"Good. Great." Breckin came up and took her by the arm, just as Roman took the other one. "No, no, no," he said. "She's yours forever after tomorrow. Right now, she's mine." He aimed a stern glare at her. "Alterations, darling. Unless you want your gown to sag."
"Priorities," Roman said with a smile.
"Absolutely." She blew him a kiss and hurried after Breckin, who was apparently in training for an Olympic racewalking team. They were almost to Breckin's car when Marv caught up with them. "Princess, hold up there. I gots to talk to you."
Breckin sighed. "Damn it, Julia. We'll never get everything done if you keep stopping to chitchat." He aimed a reproachful glance at Marv. "You couldn't have had this tender moment last night? You can't save it for tomorrow? You're her father. How many years have you been wasting? Mister, we are on a schedule here."
Julia expected Breckin to experience the Wrath of Marv, so she was surprised when Marv just nodded and said, "Yeah, yeah. I shoulda told her a long time ago. Just give me a couple of minutes."
Breckin crossed his arms over his chest and started to tap his foot.
"Alone, Breckin," Julia said. "Please."
Breckin huffed a bit, then nodded. "Fine. I'll go call about the flowers." He pointed a finger at Marv. "Five minutes. And then she's out of here. She's not your daughter today. She's my bride."