by Eileen Green
He made his way over to his bride-to-be and took her left hand. “Did you forget something?” he asked jokingly.
“I’m sorry,” she offered quietly. “I get so excited sometimes.”
Slipping the ring on her finger, he laughed. “I like to see you excited.” He kissed her again and then turned her so she could show her ring to her mother.
“It’s about time you asked her, young man,” Andrew said, coming up behind Matthew.
“However,” Jake added, “you were supposed to ask permission first.”
“Oh, I meant to ask for Gwen’s permission, Jake,” Matthew said, tongue in cheek, “but it happened so quickly. I’m sure she would have said yes.”
To stand there and watch two dominant men like Andrew and Jake bristle a bit was entertaining. Gwen was the only one he needed to impress at the moment, and her men busting his balls wasn’t going to work on him, no matter how dominant they were.
Chapter Six
There were two weeks left before the wedding. Heather walked around with her to-do list, constantly adding things, or crossing them off. Today, she was meeting with Augusta for the kids’ area of the reception.
A parent’s nightmare waiting to happen was what was being planned. Besides Anita’s three boys, and Gina’s little Nathan, there were other kids coming to the wedding. Heather had planned a separate area with blue light-up cubes for seats and clear plastic tables. China would be missing from the place settings to avoid breakage.
In one corner, there would be a projector on the floor that would show a shower of snowflakes on two of the walls. There would be toys for them to play with, and a section with fake wrapped packages and a throne for a frozen visitor should one show up.
Along a third wall, which would be made from plywood painted a light blue, there was going to be a kid’s wonderland, a candy bar. The parents were going to hate her, but Heather knew that kids love candy, and it would keep them occupied for a while.
There would be different sized decanters and vases filled with chocolates wrapped in silver foil, and candies colored blue, silver, and white. Cake pops with white icing and edible glitter would stand up in vases along with marshmallow pops, the marshmallows coated in blue, silver, and white edible glitter.
She would not envy the parents, or whoever was going to be taking the kids home that night, for the kids were going to be on a major sugar high. There was also going to be plastic take-home bags for the kids to fill, so all the goodies didn’t go to waste if they weren’t already gone before the end of the reception.
The menu for the kids was going to be different also. She had been to weddings before for friends where the kids had to eat the same thing the parents did. Not all kids liked steak, chicken, or fish.
Augusta was going to oversee the goodies for the kids as well as the adults.
Over coffee and gingerbread bars, Augusta and Heather went over the list for the cakes and cupcakes. All nine cakes with matching cupcakes were approved, until Heather realized there were only eight brides.
“Um, there are eight brides. Not nine,” Heather reminded her.
“Oh, I guess your mother forgot to tell you that she was having problems deciding between what she had chosen and another design she had seen online.
Odd. Her mother hadn’t said anything, and Heather had to wonder why Augusta hadn’t said something sooner.
Her mother had chosen a champagne cake with strawberry filling, covered by white fondant. Swirls would grace the fondant with pearls scattered about, and snowflakes that would create a 3D effect. The cupcakes would have the fondant, but would have two different decoration designs. One, the fondant would be plain, topped with a snowflake, and the other with swirls in the fondant and some of the pearls.
Now a second cake was in the mix. White fondant would cover a white cake with snowflake applicate on the sides. On the top of the layer would be three round ornaments covered with tiny snowflakes, pearls, and glitter. The matching cupcakes would be the ornaments.
Both cakes fit her mother, but she would have to let Gwen choose her own cake in the end. Heather would have to put a note on her list to remind her mother to call Augusta the week before the wedding to give the lady her decision.
They also went over the plans for the shower which was to be on Saturday, three days away. The cake was already being baked and just needed to be put together. There would be gift certificates for the bakery given in lieu of gifts for the games. The rest of the planning was just going over the service of coffee, tea, and drinks. Food was going to be a potluck, the ladies bringing their favorite foods. It was a way to save money since so much of it was going into the wedding itself.
Once they finished with planning, they made a date to get together after the wedding for a girls day out. Not having very many friends of her own, Heather was excited to have a new friend.
Christmas music chimed as the door to the bakery opened and then closed. The new patron walked up to the display case. They tapped their foot impatiently, as if they were trying to decide what they wanted.
Only one lady was behind the counter and she was mixing a specialty coffee drink. The person who had come in called out, “Hey! I don’t have all day!”
“I’ll be right with you,” the lady behind the counter called out.
Since Heather was facing the counter, she watched the scene play out. Augusta sat there, for Heather was a client and they were in a consultation.
The new arrival rapped her fingernails on the glass, her impatience apparent to all who watched. “I said, I don’t have all day!”
The lady behind the counter turned to look at the lady, the frozen concoction in her hand. “I am sorry, but this man was here first,” she said, moving her hand out toward the man in the business suit waiting near the register but then stopped.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I know you are a person who is used to getting what they want right away,” the worker said as she turned back to squirt whipped cream onto the frozen coffee. “This customer was here before you, and I will serve him first. I will be with you as soon as I am finished.”
“I am Mrs. Dale Peters,” the obnoxious woman announced, sending fingers of chills down Heather’s back. “I am the wife of the president of the Peters Bank.”
The worker turned and handed the man his drink. He gave Mrs. Peters a look of disgust as he handed the worker a twenty-dollar bill. When she made change for him, he shook his head. “Keep the change. You deserve it.”
He grabbed a straw and stuck it in his drink as he started to leave. As he passed Heather’s sperm donor’s wife, he stopped abruptly.
“Since you seem to be an important person in this town,” he said quietly, “then you should know it’s best not to draw attention to yourself. If you offend the wrong people, you could lose business, and in this case, since you are just the wife of the bank president, you could lose him business. I’m sure he wouldn’t like that.”
Augusta released the breath she seemed to be holding and it came out in a whoosh, right before she had to stifle a giggle that followed it. Heather hid her smile with her hand, but she did gain the look of anger from the important woman.
“And who the hell are you?” Mrs. Peters demanded. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“I live in Atlanta,” he said, keeping his voice down. “I run a business there.”
“It couldn’t be as important as running a bank,” the woman challenged.
“Some people might say that. My competitors say they can take me on, but in the long run, they fold.”
“And what kind of business are you in? Do you run a store of some kind?”
“No. I run Alton Enterprises. My name is Tom Alton.”
Apparently, bleached blonde bombshell had heard of the man before. For the first time since she had demanded attention, she was at a loss for words. On top of that, she became flustered.
“Now, if I acted like you have, or if my dearly departe
d wife acted like that, I wouldn’t be in business. You must consider every person you come in contact to be a potential customer. You can’t act superior to them.” He took a sip of his drink. “And in a town this size, these people probably know who you are, and who you represent when you open your mouth. They can take their business elsewhere when they feel like they are being treated like they don’t amount to much.”
Mrs. Peters’ stood there looking at the man as if he had two heads, her mouth gaping open. Heather had to draw on an inner strength to keep from laughing.
Taking the opportunity to give the man an easy out, Heather stood and stepped over to him, her hand extended in greeting. “Mr. Alton, my name is Heather Bowers. I’m the wedding planner for your daughter’s wedding.”
“Ah, Miss Bowers,” he said shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Brooke has spoken highly of you.”
“You’re Heather Bowers?” Mrs. Peters asked, shock in her voice.
Heather had a funny feeling that this wasn’t going to go well, but then how would the woman know about her?
“Yes, I am.” She turned away from her stepmother, hoping the woman would get the hint that she didn’t want to talk, but the woman was clueless.
“You’re Dale’s bastard child?” the woman asked. Gasps sounded through the store which had grown eerily quiet. She just didn’t know how to keep her mouth closed. “You better not come running to him for money, do you hear me? That’s my money!”
Disbelief flooded Heather. Not once did she ever think about going to the jerk for money, but to have it screeched to her not to do it gave her the notion to want to try.
“You are so full of yourself, Agatha,” Heather retorted, using the woman’s real name. “You were nothing in high school. No one looked at you. No one wanted to be your friend because you don’t know how to be a decent person. Without your surgery for boobs, and to look better, no one would give you the time of day now. You deserve everything you get in life. Including this.”
Not knowing what came over her, Heather pulled her arm back, balled her fist, and let it fly. Cartilage crunched sickeningly as her fist met Agatha “Peaches” Peters perfectly sculpted nose.
The woman screamed as blood spurt from her nose. Using her hands, she tried to keep from letting the red liquid get on her clothes.
“You bitch!” Peaches cried out. “How dare you!”
Looking at Mr. Alton, she felt horrible for what she had done. He ran a billion company and he had just told Peaches about how she shouldn’t act. Now Heather let the vile woman get to her and had lashed out at her. Would he tell Brooke what happened, and the ladies would have her fired?
“Oh, my gawd.” Heather gasped. “I can’t believe I did that!”
Augusta stood and wrapped an arm around Heather’s shoulders. “If you hadn’t, I probably would have,” she told Heather. “Now, why don’t you take Mr. Alton here to see his daughter out at Smart Computers? We’ll handle the police when they arrive.”
“The police?” Heather couldn’t think properly. She was going to be arrested and Matthew wasn’t going to want to be with her any more.
“Come now, Miss Bowers,” Mr. Alton said softly, amusement lighting his face. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He handed Augusta his drink, grabbed Heather’s hand and purse, and led her out of the shop. Heather sat in his rental car and kept running the scene over and over in her head.
Yes, she knew who her sperm donor had married. She was such a harpy, that Heather felt her father deserved her. Now she was certain of it.
By the time they reached the south end of Kalispell and Smart Computers, Heather was worried about the incident and how it would come back to bite her in the ass.
Mr. Alton came around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. By the time she was out of the car, Brooke was running from the building, squealing in delight. She bypassed her own father and grabbed Heather by the arm.
“Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. “Augusta called to say you guys were on your way. She told me what had happened. Good for you!”
Heather found herself being squeezed in her friend’s arms. When Brooke released her, she turned to her father. “Hiya, Daddy,” she said before her father hugged her.
“Hey, Brooke. How are you?”
“I’m good,” she said when he released her. Brooke lowered her voice, but Heather still heard her ask, “Do you think she’s going to be in that much trouble?”
“No,” he assured his daughter. “Besides, Heather has been with you all afternoon, hasn’t she?”
Brooke laughed.
Heather realized what having friends was for. They would help you out when you needed it, and lie for you if they truly believed in you. Her heart was happy.
* * * *
He couldn’t believe he had heard his brother correctly. “She did what?” he asked Morgan, a bit of irritation weaseling its way into his mind.
“She decked the woman that her father is married to.” Morgan handed Matthew a beer. “Apparently, the woman was going on about how her husband was the bank president and she needed to be serviced before everyone else. When Brooke Alton’s father pointed out that she was being unreasonable, and then went on to tell her who he was, she still acted like an idiot.”
“Heather went up to introduce herself to Mr. Alton, and the bitch called Heather a bastard. That’s when Heather lost it, and slugged her.” Kyle sounded proud of Heather also.
Matthew was more concerned on why he had to hear this through his brother and Kyle.
“Do you know where she is right now?” Matthew asked as he grabbed up his keys from the table. He needed to get to her right away.
“Brooke took her and her father over to the Tipsy Tavern.” Morgan was taking the keys away from Matthew. “We’ll drive you over there. You’re upset.”
They were there quicker than Matthew would have thought. He must have spaced out. Once inside the restaurant, he was able to scope out Heather in an instant. She was at a table near the hallway with Brooke and a man who appeared to be Brooke’s father, her head hanging low.
Rushing over to the table, Brooke smiled. “Hey there, Matthew.”
“Is she all right?” he asked hesitantly looking at his woman.
“She’s worried,” answered the older gentleman at the table. “I’ve already talked to my lawyer, and there’s nothing to worry about.”
Matthew crouched down next to Heather. “Hey, babes. Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Heather asked as she finally looked at him. “Oh, hi!”
Looking over at Brooke, Matthew had to ask, “How much has she had to drink?”
“This is her second margarita,” Erin said as she came up to the table with a tray of beers and a plate of French fries. “Of course, I did put a little extra tequila in them.”
“You’ve made her drunk?” he asked.
“No. She dropped the first drink after her first couple of sips, and this one, she’s only had a few sips from this one.” Erin was the manager but she bartended also. She was married to five men who she finally gave into after they pursued her for a year, and the men didn’t want her working. From what Matthew knew, she was in the process of looking for a new manager, but just hadn’t found one yet.
Confusion reigned in Matthew. Why was Heather acting the way she was?
“She was eating while she was at the bakery, so it wasn’t because she had a drink on an empty stomach,” Mr. Alton said. “I think it’s a coping mechanism. She’s a bit out of it still. Just talk to her. She’ll come around.”
“Baby,” Matthew said as he took Heather’s hand. “Come with me, please?”
Heather stood and followed behind him as he walked to a back table. After letting her sit first, he sat next to her. “Talk to me, Heather. You’re scaring me.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. Well, not really. She called me a bastard. I grew up knowing I was one, but no one ever said it out loud.”
He grasped her chin in his hand, gently and turned her until she faced him. “You. Are. Not. A. Bastard!” he said, punctuating his words. “No matter what anyone says, you are not a bastard. You had a loving mother who raised you into a beautiful loving woman. The sperm donor knew about you and did nothing to acknowledge you. He’s the one who was wrong.”
“I’m going to go to jail, Matthew. You’re not going to want to marry a jailbird.”
Ah, now it made sense. “You will not be going to jail. We’ll all make sure of that. Besides, the woman deserved whatever she gets.”
Heather dropped her head. “I think I broke her nose.”
“Then I’ll remember never to make you mad,” he said with a smile.
A chuckle escaped Heather. “Okay.”
With that, she was Heather again. Until the place went quiet and a shadow blocked out some of the restaurant lights. Looking up, Matthew found he was looking at the man that was supposed to have been Heather’s father.
Heather stiffened next to him.
“I wanted to come and apologize for what Peaches said to you. Sometimes she can be a bit of a…”
“Bitch!” Heather finished with animosity.
Mr. Peters flinched at his daughter’s comment, even though that’s what it looked as if he was going to say the same thing. He started to open his mouth to say something, but Matthew stood.
“You don’t get a say in all of this. Trying to reprimand her, or praise her, is twenty-two years too late. You can’t come traipsing into her life after you ignored her.”
“I didn’t know about her…”
“Liar!” The word was spat out with venom by Gwen who was standing behind Dale Peters. Dale spun around to face a very pissed off woman. “I told you when I found out I was pregnant. You told me to get rid of it, and when I didn’t, you told me you would have nothing to do with me! I lived in cardboard boxes after my parents kicked me out. When I finally got some help and a place to live, we lived off very little. There were nights I went to bed hungry because I made sure your daughter was fed.