by Beverly Farr
Ginny walked around the table and gave him a quick hug. “I know it’s difficult to figure out the guest list, but it could be worse. Miranda’s given us two hundred slots.”
“That’s generous, considering that she’s claiming the other four hundred.”
Ginny sighed. Phillip must be stressed if he was getting testy. She wondered if this was a “Groomzilla” moment. “You have to remember that this is her party.”
“I thought it was our party.”
“In name only,” Ginny explained patiently. “Miranda is one of the premier hostesses in Texas. Her parties are legendary and very exclusive. To be invited to the wedding of her only daughter . . . Well, I hate to sound snobbish, but it’s the closest thing to royalty that we have in Texas.”
“I didn’t realize I was marrying royalty.”
“I’m not royalty. Miranda is. Once our fifteen minutes of fame is over, we’ll be forgotten.”
She shuffled through the papers on the table. “If you want, I can let you and your side of the family have most of mine. I don’t need more than three dozen invitations.”
“That would be a big help, thanks.”
“And remember: these invitations are for adults only. Make certain your family understands this. Absolutely no babies or children under twelve are allowed. Teenagers will be admitted only if they have an invitation, and they’re appropriately dressed.”
“Will your mother really enforce these rules?”
“Let’s put it this way – if you cut your hair in a Mohawk and dye it green, she won’t let you in the church.”
“That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about,” he said seriously.
Ginny tried to imagine Phillip with a Mohawk and giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she said hastily, swallowing the laughter. Phillip was a good man, but he rarely laughed at himself.
They spent the next half hour eating and going through the lists, making decisions.
Finally, Ginny pushed all the papers off the table, making them flutter to the floor.
Phillip frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s elope,” she said dramatically.
“What?”
“We’ll jump in the car and head for Vegas.”
“That’s a two day drive. I have to teach classes on Thursday.”
“Then we’ll hop on a plane. That way, we avoid all the insanity.”
“It sounds tempting, but it isn’t realistic. It wouldn’t be fair to your mother or mine, and it would disappoint so many of our friends and family.”
Ginny sighed. When he put it like that, it made her feel selfish. “You’re right.” Irritated, she chewed her bottom lip, remembering that Derek hadn’t worried about upsetting friends and family. But they’d been young and foolish, only focused on themselves.
Phillip bent down to pick up the papers she had scattered.
“Kiss me,” she said suddenly.
“What, right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“All right,” he said, looking at her as if she were acting strangely. He set the papers down, walked over and kissed her.
It was a comfortable kiss, but there were no fireworks. “No. I want you to kiss me like you really mean it.”
He was confused by her abrupt attitude. “Is this some sort of test?”
Yes. No. Maybe. It wasn’t fair to compare one man to another. Phillip was like a cozy blaze in her fireplace in the middle of winter. Derek was a forest fire, burning out of control. Only a fool would let herself be burned twice. “Kiss me like you’re saying good-bye. Like you’ll never see me again.”
“Are you trying to tell me something? Are you breaking off our engagement?”
Would he be devastated if she did? She tried to read his expression, then said quietly, “No. But I need to know why you’re marrying me.”
“Because I love you.”
It was a good answer, but not enough for her tonight. “Then kiss me.”
He bent down and kissed her one more time. Ginny clung to him, but it didn’t work.
He didn’t get Derek out of her mind.
#
Derek opened the stiff cream colored envelope and removed the wedding invitation. Inside were the embossed announcement and a reception card. A formal photograph of Phillip and Ginny slipped to the carpeted floor. He picked it up and looked closely at the smiling representation of his ex-wife. She was still beautiful, damn her.
He’d thought he was over her. He’d thought she had no power over him. He’d thought he could kiss her good-bye and close the door forever on the past.
He was wrong.
In the past few days, he’d relived that moment many times.
He’d revisited the business decisions that had led to moving Midas to Texas. Texas had no state income tax and a strong economy, but there had been other options. And why Dallas instead of Houston? Somewhere in his subconscious, he must have wanted to prove to himself, and possibly to Ginny, that he could be successful in her hometown.
And the most painful question: why had he bought a house on Adele Circle? Moving in next door to her mother may have been a coincidence, but he doubted that now. Although he hadn’t remembered the address, at one time, had he seen it on Ginny’s driver’s license or on the divorce papers? Last fall, when he saw the listing online, the house had looked right, it felt right.
Now he debated whether he should sell the house and leave Dallas, relocating his business again. But he was not going to let Ginny destroy him and everything he’d built.
Why’d she send him an invitation? Was it one last slap in the face, reminding him that she didn’t love him and she’d found someone better?
Derek started to rip the photo, then hesitated. He smiled. He would not throw the invitation away. He had a better idea.
#
“Sorry I’m late, darlings,” Miranda said, as she walked down the staircase, putting on her earrings as she went.
Ginny and Phillip sat in her formal living room. Ginny smiled, noting Miranda’s effective entrance that emphasized her slim figure and new chic haircut.
Miranda added, “I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”
“You’re always worth the wait, Miranda,” Phillip said, which made her smile prettily. Ginny flashed him a grateful glance. He was learning to say the right things to keep her mother happy.
Miranda’s minister was going to perform the wedding ceremony, so she was accompanying them to introduce them. Tonight they were going to make arrangements for the wedding rehearsal and to finalize the wording of the ceremony.
“Virginia, would you go check my auctions on Midas while I finish getting ready?” her mother asked. “I’ve been following them all day, and I’m dying to know how high the bids are on a German clock I’m selling.”
Ginny knew that if she didn’t check on the auction, Miranda would talk about it all the way there and all the way home from the minister’s house, so she obediently walked to her mother’s office. As she was half way down the hall, she heard Miranda say, “Phillip, you can help me fasten my necklace.”
Ginny shook her head in amazement. Miranda thought every man within earshot should be at her beck and call.
The Midas website was on the computer screen. Without bothering to sit down, Ginny leaned over the swiveled office chair and clicked on her mother’s account information. She saw that the German clock was now bidding at close to five hundred dollars and a set of her mother’s china was bidding at a little more than three hundred. She returned to the Midas home page, and something caught her eye.
There was a box on the screen with the dancing penguin, listing Midas’s favorite auctions. Eighth on the list of ten was an item called, “Perfect Texas Wedding,” currently bidding at six hundred twenty five dollars. The miniature photo looked a little like her and Phillip.
Ginny felt a sense of dread. She clicked on the icon.
Immediately a new s
creen popped up, and in the center of it was a copy of her and Phillip’s engagement photo, the one printed in the Park City News and the Dallas Register.
Stunned, she started reading the advertisement.
“For sale, an invitation for two to the Perfect Texas Wedding. This invitation includes seating at the wedding ceremony itself,” the June date of her wedding was listed, “and tickets for the reception following later. The reception includes a formal sit down dinner and dancing at one of Dallas’ finest hotels, famous for its elegance and traditional French cuisine. Dress is formal, which means that black tie is required for the gentlemen.”
“Bidding starts at five hundred dollars. The winning bidder will receive the actual invitation, with the specific information including the names of the happy pair, and the location of the scheduled events.”
Ginny felt sick to her stomach.
Derek had done this. No one else would have.
She searched for the information on the seller and found only a cryptic email address.
Under “further seller comments” was the statement: “Due to personal reasons, I have no desire to attend this event, but felt that someone else should enjoy what promises to be the Texas wedding of the year. I cannot list the names of the parties, but I guarantee that the winning bidder will be pleased with the invitation. The bride’s mother is a well-known Texas socialite.”
“I’ll kill him,” Ginny muttered.
What’s wrong?” Miranda said, as she came in the room. “Has something happened to my clock?”
Ginny stood back from the computer. “Just look at this,” she said with a wave of her hand.
Miranda started reading, then said, “I hope this isn’t one of your friends’ jokes, Virginia, because it’s in extremely poor taste.”
“It’s not a joke.”
“If someone doesn’t want to come to your wedding, they should send their regrets politely instead of turning your special day into a circus.”
Phillip also read the item description over her shoulder. “Actually, I think it’s flattering. The seller knows that an invitation to one of your parties is very valuable, Miranda. Look how he started the bidding at five hundred dollars.”
Ginny knew Phillip was trying to put a positive spin on the situation, but Miranda was having none of it. “I am not some German clock or an ugly painting,” she said haughtily. “Anyone could buy this invitation. Some stranger could walk into your wedding. Who knows what they might be capable of?”
“I hardly think terrorists are going to crash my wedding party,” Ginny said wryly.
“Why not? The governor will be there.”
Ginny gritted her teeth. Perhaps Derek thought he was being amusing, but the whole thing looked like revenge to her. Why? Two weeks ago, they’d agreed to act like acquaintances and forget the past. There was no reason for him to be vindictive – unless that good-bye kiss had rattled him as much as it had rattled her.
Was this auction an attempt to annoy her or to get her back? If Derek thought she was going to turn her back on Phillip after one kiss -- no matter how spectacular -- he was very much mistaken. Derek was part of her past, but Phillip was her future and she would not let Derek jeopardize that. “I’ll talk to Derek,” Ginny said finally.
“Good thinking. He’ll know what to do. He’ll figure out who’s selling the invitation and make him stop.”
“Can he do that?” Phillip asked. “If the invitation belongs to someone, why can’t he sell it?”
Ginny snapped, “Whose side are you on?”
“I’m just thinking about the legal issues,” Phillip said defensively. “Is a wedding invitation transferable?”
“I’ll talk to my lawyer,” Miranda said.
Phillip said, “It’s a shame that you can’t join in with the seller and split the profits. If the bidding goes high enough, it could help pay for the reception.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. Phillip was viewing this situation in a very practical light. But then he was a man, and men often focused on the logical instead of the emotional implications of an issue.
Miranda glared at him. “It’s not the money; it’s the principle of the thing. I don’t want a stranger at my daughter’s wedding. And I don’t want everyone in the world to know about it, either. It’s humiliating. I can hear it now, people laughing behind my back, asking, ‘how much did you pay for your invitation?’”
Phillip said, “If more people try to sell their invitations, the average cost will go down.”
“We don’t need a lecture on supply and demand,” Ginny began, and then realized she was losing her temper at the wrong person. Phillip wasn’t the cause of the problem, Derek was. She glanced at her watch. “And now we’re late for our appointment with the minister, too.”
“Phillip and I will talk to him,” Miranda offered. “You go talk to Derek.”
“Are you sure?” Ginny asked. “Won’t the minister think it’s odd for me not to be there?”
“I’ll explain everything. Now hurry, before Derek’s office closes tonight. I don’t want people bidding on the invitation all weekend.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Derek’s corporate office was located in a gleaming copper colored tower in North Dallas. How appropriate, Ginny thought as she exited Central Expressway and drove around to the parking lot. Midas Online Auctions had that golden touch that should be reflected in its physical surroundings.
She walked between two rows of massive carved columns that flanked the entrance. Tinted glass doors slid open automatically as she approached. She read the directory posted inside on the lobby wall, then found the elevator that went to the twenty fourth floor.
Once on the correct floor, she spoke to the receptionist. “I’d like to speak to Derek Landon, please.”
The woman was cool and professional. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Landon?”
“No, but I am certain he will want to speak with me.”
“And the nature of your business?”
I’m his ex-wife, Ginny thought, but didn’t say it. She made herself smile. “It’s personal.”
The woman didn’t seem impressed. “And your name?”
“Ginny Russell.”
Apparently the name meant nothing to her. “Please have a seat and I’ll speak to Mr. Landon’s secretary. Mr. Landon is a very busy man, and I can’t guarantee that he’ll be able to see you today.”
That certainly put her in her place. Derek was worth millions, now. She shouldn’t have expected to be able to walk in and see him, just because she wanted to.
She waited ten minutes, then the receptionist said, “Mr. Landon is in a meeting and can not be disturbed. You may either leave a message here or you may wait until he takes a break and speaks to his secretary. Even then, he may not have the time to speak with you.”
“I’ll wait.” Ginny said, and sat back down in a grayish purple upholstered chair.
“Are you sure you don’t want to leave a message?”
“I’m sure.” She couldn’t fault the receptionist. She was merely doing her job, as the secretary was. Derek wouldn’t be able to run his company if people could walk in the building and disrupt business merely by saying they had a personal matter to discuss.
She waited another ten minutes and began to wish she’d brought something to read. Unlike a dentist’s office, there were no stacks of magazines on the occasional tables. The reception area was clean and uncluttered with simple lines and open spaces.
She stood and walked around, examining the original gold and lavender metal wall sculpture on one wall. She recognized it as the work of one of Dallas’ newer artists. It was interesting piece of work, but difficult to dust.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, she thought wryly. Maybe that could be a new Midas slogan.
Someone on the other side of the glass security doors walked by, saw her, and stopped. The man surveyed her from head to toe, then pushed through the doors. “Ginny?” he asked.
/> He was of medium height, with a receding hairline and a big smile. His voice was familiar, but it took her a minute to recognize him. “Ted?”
He grabbed her hand to shake it, then pulled her forward into a quick bear hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said effusively. “What’s it been -- eight years?”
She stepped back from the embrace. “Nine. What are you doing here? I had no idea you were with Midas.”
Ted shrugged. “My software business cratered a few years ago, and Derek came calling.”
“And what do you do?”
“Product development.”
“That’s great, I -- ”
The receptionist interrupted. “Do you know Ms. Russell?”
“Know her?” he repeated. “Why, she’s the boss’s -- “
“Old friend,” Ginny interrupted quickly. “I’m an old friend from college, nothing more,” she said firmly.
Ted winked as if to say, “If that’s the way you want to handle it, fine with me.”
The receptionist eyed her with interest now, no doubt wondering who she was and what she wanted with her boss.
“I just dropped by to talk to Derek for a few minutes,” Ginny told Ted, keeping her tone light. “Can you get me in to see him?”
He pushed the glass security door open. “Follow me.”
She followed him into a cool, pleasant lobby decorated in shades of amethyst and charcoal, with several hallways fanning out like the spokes of a wheel.
“It’s quiet,” she said.
“Were you expecting noise and chaos?”
“I thought Midas would be a large warehouse, with a million cubicles and unwashed college-types running around playing darts and talking about megahertz.”
Ted smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I’m not disappointed.” She was intrigued. Someday, she would like to know more about Derek’s company and how he’d developed it. But she’d have to do her research elsewhere. She couldn’t ask him because he might misinterpret her interest in Midas as interest in him.
They walked down a hallway, past a large conference room, to another waiting area. A slim Asian woman, presumably Derek’s secretary, sat at a desk with a state of the art computer. Ted leaned on her desk and said, “Give Derek a buzz and tell him Ginny Russell’s here.”