What Lies Beneath

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What Lies Beneath Page 17

by Andrea Laurence


  She accepted them, taking a deep breath of their fragrance. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry for how I acted. I’m sorry for not believing you. I was having trouble dealing with all of this, with how I felt about you and Cynthia, and I took it out on you.”

  She looked up at him, her expression open but not entirely sold. The flowers had been a nice touch, but they hadn’t quite worked the magic he was hoping for. He’d have to take it up a notch. “The other day George came by the office and agreed on the e-reader deal. It took years of long hours to pull that together, and it meant nothing because I couldn’t share the moment with you. Not Cynthia. You. Adrienne. In that short period of time, you became more important to me than anything. Than anyone.”

  She still didn’t speak, but her gaze dropped to the roses, her knuckles gripping the stems and turning white with strain.

  He moved in closer, bringing his hands up to gently hold the backs of her upper arms. He wasn’t about to let her get away. “I know that I was horrible to you. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m asking for it. Because I love you, Adrienne. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and frankly, it scared me. But those weeks without you were like living with a part of me missing. And even if I can’t have you, if I’ve ruined it, I couldn’t bear to know you hated me.”

  He tilted Adrienne’s chin up to look at him, and he saw the tears swimming in her green-gold eyes.

  “I don’t hate you,” she whispered, trying to look away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “But do you still love me?” he pressed.

  “Yes.” She nodded, a tear escaping and rolling down her cheek. “I love you, Will.”

  He took the roses from her, threw them onto one of the dressing tables and pulled her into his embrace, nearly crushing her against his chest. Will buried his face into the naturally kinky waves of her chestnut hair and breathed in the scent he’d missed.

  “I’m so glad I didn’t ruin it,” he said, pulling away. “I was hopeful, though, so I brought this with me just in case.”

  Will took a box out of his pocket and eased down onto one knee in front of her. He watched with amusement and a touch of concern as the blood drained from her face. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  He held up the box to her. “Open it,” he urged.

  Adrienne reached out, her hand shaking, and took the velvet box. She opened it, her mouth dropping open as it tended to do when she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “It’s not the same ring,” she said, her brow furrowed.

  It wasn’t. It felt wrong to give her a ring that was intended for someone else. So he’d gone to his favorite jeweler and asked him to create a new ring especially for Adrienne.

  It was a two-carat oval-cut pink sapphire surrounded by a ring of perfect, round diamonds and set in platinum. The jeweler was inspired by Princess Diana’s engagement ring, recently given by her son to the new English princess.

  Judging by the look on Adrienne’s face, he’d made the right choice.

  “Cynthia’s ring was large and gaudy because that’s what she wanted. I wanted your ring to be untraditional, beautiful and priceless. Just like you.”

  Will pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, unlike all of Cynthia’s things. This was hers and only hers.

  “Adrienne, you have changed my whole world. I had been living half a life before you were given to me. Just going through the motions. I’d lost hope of ever being happy. But I was wrong. You showed me there was more to life than how I was living. You made me want to do and experience more through your eyes. And I want to continue to do that. For the rest of our lives. Marry me, Adrienne.”

  She dropped to her knees on the ground in front on him. Her eyes moved repeatedly from the ring to his face and back. “It’s so beautiful. I don’t know what to say, Will.”

  Will smiled and took her hands in his. “All you have to say is yes.”

  “Yes!” she said, launching herself into his arms. His weight was thrown off by the sudden attack, sending him rolling backward onto the concrete floor with Adrienne on top of him.

  She straddled him, leaning down to put her palms on each side of his face, and kissed him. Will wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him. It felt so good to have her back in his embrace again. He’d missed holding her so badly the past few weeks. His arms were empty and useless without her.

  When his lips finally parted from hers, he took a ragged breath to cool his ardor. This was hardly the time or place for him to do everything he wanted to do to his new fiancée.

  He was distracted as Adrienne started giggling.

  “What?” he asked. One moment she was mad, then crying, then laughing. She would definitely keep him on his toes for the next fifty years.

  “We’re getting married,” Adrienne said, as though he hadn’t been present to hear the news.

  “I know.” Will pushed himself up until he was seated on the floor with Adrienne in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Does that mean you’ll move back to New York and live with me?”

  Adrienne nodded. “I have to go home and take care of some things, but it won’t take me long. But if I do move back here, I want us to start fresh with a line separating our new life together from the past. I think the best way to do it would be to get a new apartment. Can we?”

  “Absolutely.” Will smiled. He’d been looking at places on the Upper West Side already. It was closer to the office, and the pace had always suited him better.

  “And can we get new furniture? Stuff that isn’t so…I don’t know…”

  “I do know.” He laughed. He hated almost everything in that place. “And we can most definitely start over with decorating. We’ll have an estate sale and only take what we want.”

  “Like my sewing machine.” Adrienne grinned, the excitement of their new life together visibly forming in her mind. “I guess there’s just one thing left to discuss.”

  “Ahh…here we go. The wedding plans, right? Let the circus begin.”

  Will didn’t know what Adrienne’s take on the wedding might be like, but he was certain it would be different, just like their life together would be different. And wonderful. And exciting. He couldn’t wait to find out what their future would hold.

  “Whatever you want, we can make it happen. I’ll track down every pink rose in South America if you want it. Anything for you.”

  Adrienne smiled sheepishly. “That’s wonderful, thank you. But actually, that’s not what I was talking about.”

  Will arched an eyebrow in curiosity. She surprised him all the time. He’d proposed not two minutes ago. He figured her head would at least be wrapped up in designing her own wedding gown and bridesmaids dresses if not envisioning the whole extravaganza. “So, what’s more important than planning our wedding?”

  “You said something earlier about a rent-free location for my new boutique?”

  Epilogue

  The Daily Observer, Society Column

  By Annabelle Reed-Graham

  Saturday, October Twentieth

  Central Park

  I’m certain that all of my readers have been following the real-life drama over the last year that has been the romance of Daily Observer mogul (and my boss) William Reese Taylor, III, and his fiancée, the beautiful and talented fashion designer Adrienne Lockhart. I’ve been personally cheering for the couple through the ups and downs and have never been as excited to type an engagement announcement as I was this past December when the groom proposed with a flawless pink-sapphire-and-diamond ring reminiscent of the jewels of royalty. I’ve waited months with bated breath, but this past weekend, I had the privilege of attending their intimate autumn wedding.

  For those of you expecting one of those large, stuffy and expensive extravaganzas at the Plaza, you’re in for a big surprise. While the bride’s funky fashion sense and free spirit are well known, no one was quite certain how the event would unfold
. Guesses ranged from hot-pink wedding gowns to a ceremony on a rooftop, but we were all wrong. What resulted was a beautifully traditional event with customized elements that made this wedding uniquely their own.

  The wedding ceremony took place in Central Park’s Shakespeare Gardens, where a gathering of less than a hundred close friends and family members joined the bride and groom in celebrating their vows. The guests were serenaded by an elegant string quartet while they waited for the bride’s arrival.

  To everyone’s surprise, the bride was walked down the aisle by George Dempsey, the owner of Dempsey Corp. and father of the late Cynthia Dempsey. The bride looked stunning in an ivory satin-and-organza gown, which she designed herself. The strapless dress had a corset top, studded with hand-sewn pearls and gold and silver Swarovski crystals set in a mystical swirling pattern across the bodice. The skirt was full and voluminous, swishing around the blushing bride like a bell. If you looked closely, you could catch a glimpse of the cheeky ivory and crystal flip-flop sandals she wore underneath it.

  The flowers were expertly handled by Chestnuts in the Tuileries. The bride’s bouquet was a tight bundle of ivory roses with pink tips and stephanotis with pink crystal centers. The petal-pink ribbon around the stems matched the gown of the maid of honor, Miss Gwendolyn Wright, a friend of the bride and nurse at the hospital where the bride stayed after her tragic accident a year ago.

  The groom and his best man, Mr. Alexander Stanton, both looked fetching in their Armani tuxedos. There wasn’t an ounce of nervousness in the groom. In fact, his gaze was focused so intently on his new bride as she walked down the petal-strewn aisle, the rest of us could’ve gone home and he wouldn’t have noticed.

  The bride and groom exchanged customized vows under an arch woven with white hydrangeas and pink and ivory roses. I’ve personally written about more than a hundred weddings over the years, and I have to say I’ve never seen a couple beaming with as much love and joy as they did pledging their devotion to one another.

  After the ceremony, guests were treated to a horse-drawn-carriage ride around Central Park to the Loeb Boathouse, where the reception was held. Guests sipped the night’s signature cocktail, “The Barefoot Bride,” a concoction of vodka, pureed strawberries and lemon seltzer, and dined on fun, nontraditional treats like filet mignon sliders, fried macaroni-and-cheese spoons and miniature corn dogs served in shot glasses with spicy Chinese mustard.

  The warm wood tones of the rustic but elegant Boathouse were the perfect backdrop to the cream, rose and gold decorations. The walls were lit up in a delicate pink light, and each surface was covered in staggered sizes of ivory pillar candles and pink rose petals. Each guest table was draped with custom, hand-stitched rose-colored linens, embroidered with tiny pearls and crystals in the same swirling pattern as the bride’s gown. The glow of more ivory candles highlighted the four-foot-tall gold trumpet vases overflowing with more roses, lilies and hydrangeas and dripping with strands of crystals and pearls.

  When the wedding party arrived, the bride and groom shared a lively first dance to the unexpected “Never Can Tell” by Chuck Berry. They were later joined on the dance floor by the maid of honor and best man. Once the tempo of the music dropped, I have to admit I sensed something romantic happening between those two. Something to keep an eye on, since the best man is a notorious playboy.

  The event was a feast for all five senses. After the first few dances, guests were treated to a gourmet meal that included a strawberry spinach salad, cold melon soup and a tender filet with shrimp, garlic whipped potatoes and roasted asparagus.

  True to the bride’s style, the wedding cake was a fun and funky creation from local bakery Cake Alchemy. Forgoing the traditional sugar flowers, the square-tiered fondant cake was decorated with a cascade of pink, ivory and burgundy blown sugar globes. The four-foot creation featured alternating tiers of black-forest cake with cherry and cream filling and white-chocolate cake with fresh strawberry-buttercream filling.

  After dinner, the bride reappeared in a shimmering, cocktail-length fuchsia gown of her own design, and a swing band kept guests dancing late into the night. As the cocktail foretold, the bride and many of the ladies attending cast aside their shoes to dance barefoot on the seamless white dance floor, illuminated with the bride and groom’s initials.

  Attendees who overheated had the option of relaxing on the pier, taking a trip around the lake in specially reserved gondolas or indulging in the late-night appearance of a make-your-own-sundae bar. It was a much appreciated treat after a long evening of wedding celebration. I personally opted for caramel and candied pecans with a creamy French-vanilla ice cream, but the choices were endless.

  Upon departure, each lady was provided with a silk drawstring satchel and each gentleman an embroidered handkerchief by Adrienne Lockhart Designs. Inside the purses, they found a card telling them that a donation had been made in their name to the Trend Next Foundation, the same organization that helped launch the bride’s successful career last year.

  Before leaving, I had the opportunity to speak with the happy couple. I asked them, as I ask all my brides and grooms, what their wishes for the future were.

  “My wish,” the bride said, “is that we can spend every day of the next fifty years as happy and in love as we are at this exact moment.”

  “Make it sixty years,” the groom replied, sweeping the bride into a toe-curling kiss that brought a blush to this old biddy’s cheeks.

  I have to admit, watching the couple depart the Boathouse for their own horse-drawn carriage amongst the twinkling of sparklers, I got a little teary eyed. I hope the new Mr. and Mrs. William Reese Taylor, III, remain this blissfully happy forever. I’ve never met a couple who deserves it more.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459225992

  Copyright © 2012 by Andrea Laurence

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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