#1 Rival

by Gephart, T

  Jensen was more reserved than his sons, happy to sit back and enjoy the evening with his wife Selena. He and Kate had been divorced for over a decade, but still maintained a very civil and amicable relationship. It was encouraging to see, honestly. In our line of work, people being friendly after they divorced wasn’t the norm.

  “If everyone can grab a seat, we’re serving dinner.” Eric called everyone to attention while he and Ryan carried over trays of food to the tables.

  It was still weird being there, but after another couple of glasses of champagne, I embraced the strange and went with it.

  “So, you’re thinking of studying law?” I turned to Alex who had conveniently sat next to me. I think he’d been hoping to irritate Roman who was on my other side, but if he was annoyed by it, he wasn’t showing it.

  “Yeah, two more years of under grad.” Alex sipped a beer, despite being just shy of turning twenty-one. “Hoping to stay at Berkeley for Law School, New England is too cold for me.”

  “He was coddled too much as a child,” Roman weighed in. “Still, I guess it could be worse. He could be going into show business like the other clowns I’m related to.” The disgust on his face would have been believable except for the smile he was wearing.

  “Roman is just jealous because he has zero talent.” Dave wandered over to our table, dragging over a chair with him. “He also has zero personality so it’s just as well as he chooses to spend most of the time in an office.” He took a seat near Alex.

  Roman took it in stride, throwing a few clever barbs of his own back, but was surprisingly relaxed.

  “Your family is pretty great.” My shoulder nudged his. Everyone else had moved from the tables and was once again mingling, leaving us alone.

  He looked over at his brothers, all of which were laughing. “They’re okay, I guess. Which brings me to my next question. What are your plans for tomorrow?”

  “Isn’t tomorrow the day of your brother’s wedding?” I asked, figuring that I wouldn’t see him until probably later.

  Roman rolled his eyes, his arm relaxing on the back of my chair. “I assume so, unless they both come to their senses in the next twenty-four hours and call the whole thing off.”

  My fist gave him a playful bump on the arm. “I know you said marriage isn’t your thing, but you could try being happy for them.” I gestured to Tia and Eric, both of them looking outrageously in love.

  “Yeah, whatever.” He ignored their loved-up display and turned back to me. “Tomorrow, are you free? I want to see you.”

  “What are you asking me?” I was careful not to assume anything because with Roman, you just couldn’t tell.

  He might have been inviting me to be his plus one to his brother’s wedding, this time giving me the courtesy of a head’s up before thrusting me into a family function. Or he might have been using me as an excuse to get out of it, in the same way a shady boyfriend asks you to be an alibi when he knocks over a liquor store.

  I wasn’t confident in guessing which one of those was more likely, and more to the point, which one gave me less anxiety.

  His eyes connected with mine as the noise continued around us. “I’m asking you to come to the wedding with me.”

  I sighed, the conflict making my skin itch.

  I wanted to say yes, to say that I would love to go as his plus one to what would probably be a beautiful wedding. Not to mention it wasn’t every day—unless you counted right now—that I got to sneak into a movie star’s private celebration. I imagined it would be an amazing day followed by an even more spectacular night.

  But.

  But.

  But.

  Deep down I knew I was inviting trouble.

  Going to weddings was something you did with a boyfriend. Clutching the arm of that special someone while basking in the love around you. Maybe you imagined what it might be like when it’s your turn, or even daydream about catching the bouquet. And while I knew this was the closest I’d been to a relationship in months—even if I had fallen into it accidentally—I was cautious about getting the wrong idea.

  Not just me, but everyone else. His mother was already teary-eyed over Roman bringing home a girl and his brothers were too nice for words. Did they assume that one day that might be us? I had enough expectations of my own I needed to live up to, I wasn’t sure I wanted to disappoint what was probably one of the nicest families I’d ever met.

  “Roman, what are you doing?” I squeezed his hand, knowing I was possibly making a mistake.

  “I’m asking you to be my date for my brother’s wedding.” He squeezed back. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

  Just go to the wedding, my subconscious screamed at me. Like he said, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. “What if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll go by myself.” He shrugged. “I’m not in the habit of having women bound and gagged, although, with you, I wouldn’t rule it out.” He tapped me on the nose.

  There was a sincerity in his voice and in his eyes that tugged at my heart. It disarmed me, and for a second I’d forgotten everything that had come before that moment and what might come after. I forgot about what it might or could mean, and let go.

  “Thank you, I’d love to come.” I said it before I realized, the words surprising me as they left my lips.

  “Good.” He gave me a satisfied smile. “But if you want me to bind and gag you, I’m still up for that.”

  I shook my head feeling more thrilled than I probably should. “How about I bind and gag you instead?” I felt myself smile. “That might be fun actually.”

  He laughed, brushing my knuckle with a kiss before leaning in and whispering, “Not a chance, Harper.”

  I HADN’T CAVED.

  As tempting as it was to give into Roman and spend the night with him after we left the rehearsal dinner, I didn’t.

  Instead, I insisted he bring me home where I spent the night alone. Not because I was angry about his little stunt, springing his family on me unprepared. And it wasn’t just to prove a point—although that was a nice fringe benefit. It was because I needed a night just to get my head around what the hell I was doing. And more to the point, what I wanted to do.

  He made it clear my decision to spend the night alone displeased him, but he didn’t fight me after he dropped me at home. Instead he kissed me goodbye and told me he’d be back in the afternoon, Tia and Eric’s wedding was at dusk in the same backyard we had dinner in the night before.

  “Isn’t today your day off?” I looked up from painting my nails on the couch to see Morgan in her scrubs.

  “Yeah, but they’re short staffed so I’m going to go cover for a few hours.” She grabbed her handbag and phone. “You spending the day with Roman?”

  “Yes.” I blew on my fingers, trying to look casual. “I’m going to his brother’s wedding.”

  “Hmmm, brother’s wedding, huh?” She didn’t even try and hide the smugness. “But you’re not dating or anything.”

  “I know, I know.” I held up a hand. “Save the judgment, we can discuss my stupidity at lunch tomorrow. Roman is taking us out.”

  “Oooooo, Roman is taking us out.” She gave a little shoulder shimmy with a silly look on her face, like she was enjoying making me squirm. “Can I be the concerned sister and ask him what his intentions are?”

  My look of warning did nothing to wipe the grin off her face. “No, you cannot.”

  She groaned, pouting at the door. “Fine, be boring. Have fun at the wedding. I’ll expect all the details tomorrow.”

  It was my turn to groan as I waved her goodbye.

  While I had never intentionally broken privilege, if I didn’t tell her about—what I dubbed—the Larsson connection soon, I was going to explode. It’s not like I would tell her about my legal involvement, and it wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone else.

  Tomorrow. I would talk to Roman today and explain to him how important it was that I tell my sister. Assure him that we could trust her and his
connection to his famous brother would never be revealed. At least not by us.

  A long deep breath slowly eased out. It was one less thing to worry about so now I could have a nervous breakdown over a more pressing issue, like what the hell was I supposed to wear?

  Was there a particular outfit that was suitable when going to the wedding of a famous person, you barely knew, whose brother you were sort of dating, and you’d handled the bride’s prenup?

  Little black dress maybe?

  Or was it more a floral maxi dress?

  Ugh, at least I had a few hours to stare blankly at my wardrobe before I needed to make a decision either way.

  An emerald green cocktail dress was what I ended up deciding on. Not too flashy, not too formal and hopefully nothing that would draw any undue attention to myself.

  Then there was the issue of a gift, not the easiest thing to organize when you had zero time and had no idea what to even get. I very much doubted they were registered at Macy’s, but I couldn’t go empty handed either. So, against my better judgment—the one that said they wouldn’t need anything I could afford—I made a quick trip to Target and got a toaster oven. Because I didn’t care how much money you had, when you got the munchies at two in the morning and the maid has gone home for the day, you were going to need a freaking toaster oven to heat up frozen pizza bites.

  “You ready?” Roman walked through my door looking amazing in a charcoal suit that should have been illegal. I thought I’d seen everything in his designer arsenal, but clearly he’d been saving this one for a special occasion.

  “I hate this suit,” I lied, taking a minute to appreciate my view, the urge to play with his tie too strong as my fingers adjusted it. “It makes your ass look hideous.”

  He laughed, his hands settling on my hips. “Good, I’d hate for someone to be staring at my ass all night long especially with my mother around. What kind of sick pervert would do that anyway?”

  It would have been easy to drag him into my bedroom and unwrap him one delicious designer label at a time, but I didn’t want to make us late.

  I tugged at his arm, moving him to my kitchen table where the present sat beautifully wrapped. “Can you help me get this into the car or are your muscles decorative?”

  “What the hell is it?” He looked at the box with suspicion, turning it around even though it was covered in shiny silver paper and a big white bow.

  “I got them a present.” I figured it was self-explanatory but clearly it wasn’t. “I wasn’t going to your brother’s wedding without getting them something.”

  He shook his head, looking amused. “You didn’t have to do that, you’re going as my guest and I already got them some investment bonds.”

  “Wow, investment bonds,” I deadpanned, not at all shocked he would have gotten them a practical present. “Are you trying to bore them to death before their first anniversary?”

  He picked up the box, weighing it in his hands. “And what did you get them?”

  I straightened, feeling proud of myself. “It’s a toaster oven and they are going to love it.”

  “You got them a toaster oven?” His smile mocked me as an eyebrow rose. “A kitchen appliance?”

  His mocking did nothing to ruin my sense of achievement. “I sure did, it’s a Cuisinart and fits a whole 12-inch pizza. And I loved it so much I even got one for myself.” I pointed to the large box on the kitchen counter. “They can eat years worth of midnight snacks while they are waiting for your stupid bonds to mature. Now we better get out of here or we’re going to be late.”

  He rolled his eyes, holding the box as I gave him a friendly shove to the door. We took the elevator this time, his eyes restless as they roamed on me until we got to the bottom floor and walked out to his car. The lack of trunk space in the Ferrari meant I had to balance the box on my knee until we got to Eric’s huge mansion. It was useful for making sure I kept my hands to myself, so at least we weren’t late.

  Roman parked at the front like we had the night before, his brother Dave greeting us as we stepped out of the car.

  “What’s in the box?” He took it from my hands, giving me the chance to climb out of the passenger seat as Roman came around to my side.

  He tapped the present in Dave’s hand before putting his arm around me, “A toaster oven.”

  “Sweet.” He nodded, grinning as he carried it into the house.

  I elbowed Roman in the ribs as we followed Dave up the stairs. “See, someone appreciates my genius.”

  Roman gripped me tighter as he leaned in. “That’s because he still lives like he’s in a frat house.”

  “I heard that, asshole,” Dave called from over his shoulder.

  “And yet,” Roman laughed, “you didn’t deny it.”

  Dave pointed us out to the backyard while he disappeared with the present.

  In the short time since we’d last been at Eric’s house, it had been transformed from a beautiful backyard into a stunning outdoor venue. Large white canopies had been erected with more of that polished wooden floor being placed on the grass, the area covered in pastel-colored roses and large white calla lilies.

  White chairs had been set up in two neat rows with a white aisle runner separating to two halves that lead to a huge fairy light lit arch.

  “Wow, it looks beautiful.” My eyes floated as they absorbed every tiny detail of the storybook scene.

  Roman’s hand pressed on the small of my back as we moved to the chairs, people already sitting down and talking as soft music played. “You want to take a seat? I’m just going to check on Eric.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” I waved him off, too busy looking at all the tiny details to worry about whether he was sitting next to me right then. “Tell him to break a leg or whatever. Oh, look what they did to the pool!” I pointed to the tiny floating lanterns that bobbed on the dark blue surface.

  He glanced over, shaking his head he gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll be back.”

  As he left, I settled into my seat, amazed by how at ease I felt. It could possibly be the two glasses of wine I’d had between my mercy dash to Target and getting ready for the wedding. Or maybe I was becoming desensitized to being around Roman and how crazy it seemed.

  He wasn’t as terrible any more. His arrogance, no longer abrasive. And even some of the traits I’d once found obnoxious and annoying, now seemed endearing and sort of cute.

  I liked spending time with him, was excited by the way he challenged me, and loved that he didn’t treat me like a glass doll that needed to be set on a pedestal. If I didn’t know better—I wasn’t sure how much of my feelings were wine related—I would assume I was starting to have feelings for Roman.

  Feelings where I didn’t want to kill or maim him.

  Boyfriend feelings.

  Shit.

  I tried to distract myself, looking around at the people sitting down and seeing if I recognized anyone. There were a few familiar faces, people I’d seen from the night before. Tia’s Brother-in-law was chatting to Tia’s younger sister who had flown in from Paris, both of them oblivious to my staring.

  Roman came back to sit beside me. “Did I miss anything?”

  “The blonde—who I’m positive is famous—is pregnant. She keeps brushing her hand over her belly and her man is hovering over her like a bodyguard.” I discreetly pointed to the blond couple who looked photo shopped before continuing. “That guy toward the back is security but pretending to be a guest, he has an earpiece and a bulge in his back that is possibly a gun. That woman beside your mom, who I assume is your aunt, is annoyed she didn’t wear her waterproof mascara and has been dabbing her eyes and retouching her foundation every few minutes. And I think your brother Alex is trying to hit on Tia’s younger sister, she’s being polite but isn’t interested.”

  That was all I had for now, but I was sure that I might get a few other interesting bits and pieces before the bride made an appearance.

  “And did you find out if it was Professor Plum w
ho killed Mrs. Peacock in the library with the candle stick?” Roman laughed, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “You’re here for a wedding, not to assess a jury pool.”

  “Sorry, old habits.” I turned to him, sidelining my people watching for a while. “How’s your brother doing? Is he nervous?”

  Roman shook his head. “Nope, he’s been waiting for this for a while. Tia, on the other hand, is in a bathroom upstairs throwing up. I think Lila has given her a Xanax.”

  “Well, it’s a big deal, walking out in front of all these people.” I pointed to the fifty or sixty gathered friends and family. “I’m pretty sure I’d be throwing up too.”

  “Funny, I didn’t take you for the marrying type.” He rubbed his chin like he was deep in thought. “You’re not getting sentimental on me are you, Harper?”

  “No,” I scoffed, waving my hand like he had said the most ridiculous thing ever. Because it was the most ridiculous thing ever.

  I didn’t even want a serious relationship, let alone get married. A husband was the last thing I needed, not if I intended to make partner at some point. Marriage would only complicate things.

  So, why was it that the idea didn’t seem so bad anymore? Like maybe, if I found someone who was likeminded and supportive, that it would be possible to have both. I don’t know, it might work out, right?

  “Nope, no marriage for me,” I assured him, the words for the first time ever sounding uncomfortable in my mouth. “I just meant, if I was to lose my mind and agree to spend the rest of my life with one guy that it might be nerve wracking to promise that in front of an audience of people.”

  He looked like he was about to say something but as his mouth opened, the music got louder. An excited hush fell over the crowd as people hustled to their seats. Eric’s parents and Tia’s mother made their way down the aisle, saying quiet and excited hellos as they shuffled to their chairs.

  Next came Eric and his best man, Ryan, both of them looking breathtaking in matching black suits. They walked casually to the front of the arch where they chatted to the waiting celebrant, Eric occasionally turning and flashing one of his movie star heartthrob grins.