Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

  Quincy joined the military to help pay for college. By the time Aliyah was old enough to enroll, Mitch had been in a financial position to help out, and between the two of them they’d gotten her to graduation day without any student loans. He’d felt immense pride at being able to comfortably pay for Jasmine’s college without financial aid.

  The refund was a slap in the face.

  He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep, cleansing yoga breath. Then he took another one, desperately trying to find his center. Just because she’d withdrawn didn’t mean she was quitting. Perhaps there was a reasonable explanation for all of this.

  Slowly, he dialed Jasmine’s number. She didn’t pick up, and it went straight to voice mail. “Call me,” Mitch said.

  His phone buzzed again—a text from Luke. Mitch grabbed his iPad and headed to Luke’s office.

  “Hey,” Luke said, looking up from his computer. Mitch’s office was respectable, but Luke’s was lavish. A sitting area and wet bar sat in one corner, and the large hand-carved mahogany desk held a place of prominence in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the Los Angeles skyline. “I wanted to go over some things before we leave for Paris.”

  “Sure.” Mitch grabbed two Cokes out of the mini-fridge and handed one to Luke before sitting down.

  “Thanks.” Luke popped the top and took a sip. “Where are we at for the office?”

  “Darius will be the go-to person for minor issues that may arise, and you can video conference in for anything that needs your immediate attention.” Mitch took a sip of his own Coke before waking up his iPad. “Talia 2.1 is on schedule for release right after the wedding.”

  Luke ran a finger over the rim of his can. “Do you still think that’s a good idea?”

  “It will hopefully deflect any unwanted press attention from the wedding.”

  “Maybe. It makes me nervous to release an update when I’m on my honeymoon.”

  “I’ll be back in the States by then to handle any issues that may arise. But the preliminary tests are showing very minor bugs. I think it’s a good move.”

  Luke let out a sigh. “You’re right. We’ll go ahead with the original plan and release it while I’m gone.”

  Mitch nodded, making a note in his iPad.

  “The press is getting more aggressive. The dress designer needed some more measurements, so yesterday Brooke took the helicopter to a sister boutique in San Francisco. The press was waiting for her when she got there.”

  Mitch shut the case on his iPad and leaned forward. “How did they know where she’d be?”

  “That’s what I keep asking myself.”

  It had to be an inside source. “Have you considered that reporters are paying off someone close to you and Brooke?”

  “Of course. But who could it be? Only a few people know anything about the wedding.”

  Zoey’s name flashed into Mitch’s mind, and he hated himself for it. Zoey was a lot of things, but a sell-out wasn’t one of them. She would never jeopardize the wedding. At least, not intentionally. She had shamelessly flirted with the maybe-reporter at the charity event on Tuesday.

  “Let’s keep an eye on it,” Luke said. “With things like this constantly happening, I don’t know how we’ll make it another two and a half weeks without blowing the secret. I’m already nervous about arriving in France so early.”

  “The flight plans aren’t public knowledge, and the press doesn’t know for sure that you have an apartment in Paris. Brooke can always pretend to be there for Toujour if the paparazzi show up.”

  “What if they follow us to the airport?”

  “We’ll lose them. In France, we can wear disguises when out in public. The press is used to you trying to avoid them—I don’t think they’ll get suspicious if you disappear for a few weeks. You’ve managed it before.”

  “Yeah, but they’re watching us closer than ever. I guess the best we can do is hope we get lucky.” Luke tossed his empty soda can into the trash bin across the room, making a perfect basket. “You up for a basketball game before heading home? Brooke’s going to be busy all night with the bridal shower.”

  Mitch shook his head regretfully. “I need to track down Jasmine. Her tuition was refunded today. I think she’s dropped out of school.”

  “Ah, man. I’m really sorry.”

  Mitch rubbed his eyes, taking a long swig of soda. “I don’t know what she’s thinking. I’ve talked about the importance of an education for years. I thought she finally understood.”

  “She still wants to do the fashion thing, then?”

  “After getting the check back today, I’m guessing yes.” Jasmine had wanted to be a designer since high school, and Mitch never discouraged it—he’d simply encouraged her to have a backup plan. An MBA would serve her well if she started her own design house one day, and it would help her get a great job elsewhere if she didn’t.

  “You’ll figure it out.” Luke rose, and Mitch did the same. “Promise me you’ll take the weekend off to deal with your family stuff. It’ll be much harder to handle from across the ocean.”

  “Of course,” Mitch lied. He’d almost lost his job when Luke went off the deep end after his dad’s death, and Mitch wasn’t about to give the board cause to question his abilities again.

  “Take the evening off at the very least, okay? Cut loose. Have some fun.”

  Fun. Mitch wasn’t even sure what that word meant anymore. But Zoey knew. What would it be like to spend an evening at Disneyland with her? He could almost feel the rush of wind through his hair as she clutched his arm on Thunder Mountain Railroad. “The only fun I’ll be having tonight is talking Jasmine back into school.”

  “Let me know how it turns out.”

  Mitch nodded. He headed back to his office and called Jasmine while he put his laptop and iPad in his briefcase. No answer. He called her twice more while he fought congested L.A. traffic for an hour as he made his way toward campus. Still nothing.

  Mitch parked his conservative and sensible Toyota Corolla in a spot marked “visitor” and walked up the manicured sidewalk to apartment 132. He pounded on the door, not really expecting an answer.

  A moment later it swung open, revealing Jasmine in sweats and a loose white T-shirt, her hair wrapped in a bath towel. “Hey,” she said, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’re you doing here?”

  Mitch stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation, and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”

  “Sorry. My phone’s charging in my room, and I guess I didn’t hear it ring. What’s up? I’m heading to Dapper Day with some friends, so I only have a few minutes.”

  “Dapper Day?”

  “Yeah, at Disneyland. Everyone dresses up in 1950s clothes, like on the day the park first opened. People do some really cool Disney-inspired vintage costumes. A few celebrities are even expected to show up.”

  Celebrities like Brooke? And Zoey would be there too. At Disneyland. Where Jasmine wanted to spend her evening. Mitch’s jaw clenched at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. She’d dropped out of school without telling him, and now she was headed off to stalk celebrities at Disneyland. It was almost as ludicrous as Zoey spending a fortune on a bridal shower there for Brooke.

  The limo should’ve dropped the women off by now. He hoped Zoey would head straight to the boutique so the ladies could keep their appointment, but knowing her, she’d suddenly decide halfway there they should take a detour to a ride with a short line.

  “I had an interesting call with the finance office at UCLA today,” Mitch said.

  Jasmine’s chocolate skin paled. She pressed her lips together in a thin line and folded her arms. “I was going to tell you.”

  “We talked about this, Jasmine.” Mitch ran a hand over his short curls, letting out a frustrated growl. “If you want to pursue fashion, then fine—but do it after graduation. Get a degree so you have a fallback.”

  Her eyes flashed. “I don’t need
a fallback. I have an internship at a design house downtown. I found out this week.”

  An internship—suddenly her abrupt withdraw from school made so much sense. But internships were usually unpaid and guaranteed nothing. “Fashion is not a sensible career choice.”

  “I don’t want to be sensible. I’m not like you, Mitch. I’m passionate about this.”

  Mitch swallowed, remembering a time when Zoey had flung a similar accusation in his face. “You can be passionate while still being smart. Quincy wants to be a surgeon, but knew the Air Force was the quickest and most financially responsible route to get there. Aliyah wants to be a soccer mom, but she still got her degree in teaching in case she needs to provide for those children.”

  “There’s never going to be a better time to take a risk than right now. I’m single. I don’t have any children. I want to do this.”

  Mitch stared at his little sister, seeing the nine-year-old girl she’d been when their mother died. He blinked, and his adult sister came back into focus, her eyes sparkling with defiance. Anger swelled within him. He had put his entire life on hold to raise her, and this was the thanks he got.

  “The deal was I would pay for your living expenses if you would go to school full-time and maintain a respectable GPA. We both agreed this is the best thing for your future.”

  “No, you decided while ignoring what I had to say.”

  “I’m not the enemy here, Jas—I just want what’s best for you.”

  “You think you know what’s best for me.” Her eyes glowed with tears, and she glared. “I’m not made for college. I’m miserable there.”

  “You haven’t given it an adequate chance.”

  “Two semesters is a pretty solid try. I worked my butt off and still only got Bs.”

  “Things will get better. You were really excited about that elective in fashion history.”

  “I’m more excited about gaining hands-on experience.” She folded her arms. “I’m taking the internship. Over a hundred people applied, and they picked me. Do you have any idea what an opportunity this is?”

  She was so stubborn. “And how are you going to support yourself while you’re an intern?”

  “In six months, they’ll hire me as a paid intern if I do well.”

  Mitch snorted. “Six months with no income. That sounds financially smart.”

  “Are you saying you’ll cut me off if I don’t go back to school?”

  Mitch’s chest heaved. “That was the deal. If you want me to support you financially, you go to school.” He wasn’t about to help her down a path of destruction.

  “Fine then.” She headed down the hallway to her bedroom.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I told you—Disneyland with my friends. Dapper Day will give me something interesting to discuss around the water cooler on my first day as an intern.”

  “Jas, we need to talk about this.”

  “I’m done talking.” She slammed the door.

  “Jasmine!”

  But she didn’t answer.

  Mitch left the apartment, shutting the door so forcefully the frame shook. For the millionth time, he wished his mom was still alive. She’d had a quiet patience and understanding love about her that he’d never be able to master, not if he lived a thousand years.

  Ungrateful, selfish, naive little brat. One day, Jasmine would look back at this moment and wish she’d made a different choice.

  He got in his Corolla and sped out of the parking lot. After ten minutes of driving nearly ninety on the freeway, he let off the gas and the fog of rage started to dissipate.

  What am I doing, Mom? Would she want him to cut Jasmine off financially just because he disapproved of her choices? Yes, she was turning down college, but she still had dreams, still had a plan. She was a good kid and a hard worker. He had no doubt she’d be the best intern at the company.

  Still, a deal was a deal, and he wouldn’t go back on it. But maybe it didn’t have to be all or nothing. Maybe they could rearrange her class schedule so she could work as an intern part-time, if it was that important to her. He’d call the university tomorrow and see if there were any hands-on fashion courses she could take as electives, in addition to fashion history. Perhaps they could even get the internship to count as credits toward her degree. Maybe Luke knew a designer that would be willing to offer Jasmine a paid internship.

  He wanted to support her dreams. But he also wanted her to do it the right way.

  Mitch dialed Jasmine’s number, the negative energy between them an itch he had to scratch. The phone went straight to voice mail, which meant she was screening his calls.

  He cursed and dialed again. The phone went to voice mail a second time. And a third. And a fourth.

  She was clearly angry, and rightfully so. He’d handled that poorly.

  Mitch thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He could wait until tomorrow and go back to her apartment. It would give them both time to cool down and look at this rationally.

  Or he could track her down at Disneyland and apologize. Luke had told him to relax and enjoy the weekend. What better place to do that? And if he happened to run into Zoey while he was there, well, any good assistant would check in and make sure the shower was going smoothly. It was his duty not only as Luke’s assistant, but as his best man.

  And he really should apologize to Jasmine. It wasn’t good to let hurt feelings fester.

  Mitch got off at the next exit and headed back the other way. He should talk to Jasmine now, even if it meant tracking her down at Disneyland. He couldn’t leave things like this. In two days, he’d be in France for two weeks.

  And while he was at the park, he’d check up on Zoey. Make sure he didn’t need to put out any more fires than he already had.

  Chapter Three

  Zoey looked at the dresses splayed across her bed and pursed her lips. The form-fitting black dress with the crisscross back was perfect for a night on the town, but said “bachelorette party” more than it said “bridal shower.” The magenta silk blouse and chocolate-brown pencil skirt were great for the office, but a little too corporate for tonight. The white sundress was too day-at-the-beach. They weren’t quite right, and she wanted the evening to be perfect.

  Her eyes flitted to the dress she hadn’t worn since Brooke and Luke’s engagement party. The possibility of Mitch seeing her wear it again had always stopped her just short of slipping it on. The dress screamed 1950s—perfect since it was Dapper Day at the park—with a flared skirt and a sweetheart neckline. The sea foam green silk and coral pink tulle underskirt said fun and flirty, but the classic cut—fitted through the torso and flared at the waist, with thin halter straps—hinted at sophistication. Best of all, the dress was vaguely reminiscent of The Little Mermaid, Zoey’s favorite disobedient teenager. It was perfect for Disneyland, no matter what had happened the last time she wore it.

  She brought a hand to her dark black hair streaked with teal, remembering the feel of Mitch’s fingers running through it as his lips took ownership of hers. She may have initiated that kiss, but he had quickly taken back control.

  “This is stupid,” she said aloud. She yanked the vintage dress off the hanger and stripped to her underclothes. The silk slid down her spine and over her hips, flowing gently around her calves. She struggled for a few moments before managing to zip it up. Then she turned and faced the full-length mirror. Perfect.

  Take that, Mitch. He wouldn’t keep her from wearing this dress any longer. Besides, there was zero chance of seeing him tonight. She tried to picture Mitch surrounded by energetic teens trying to line-jump as they waited for Indiana Jones and snorted.

  Zoey fastened a strand of pearls around her neck and her delicate silver Mickey ears in her lobes. She wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—ruin tonight. She would be the perfect hostess, and that included looking the part.

  Zoey slipped into classic close-toed heels, walked down the hallway, and knocked on Brooke’s door.

  �
��Come in,” Brooke called.

  Zoey opened the door. She could just make out Brooke in the bathroom, leaning over the counter with puckered lips.

  “Are you ready?” Zoey asked.

  Brooke popped her lips a few times, blotting the lipstick, then flipped off the light and wandered into the bedroom. “I’m a little nervous, since you won’t tell me where we’re going. Is my outfit okay? My shoes?”

  Zoey eyed the six-inch stilettos. “You might want to wear footwear that’s a little more comfortable.”

  “You’re wearing heels.”

  “Yes, darling, but I’m an expert-level heel wearer. They’ve practically fused to my feet. I’ve forgotten how to walk unless I’m in abject pain. You’ve barely graduated from beginner to intermediate.”

  Brooke laughed and slipped into a pair of strappy sandals. “How’s this?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Are we getting makeovers? The invitations said to wear dressy but comfortable clothes and not bother with hair or makeup.”

  Zoey planted her fists on her hips. “Who’s the rat that let that much slip?”

  “I stole the invitation from my mom and peeked. She still has no idea.”

  “Well, I’m not saying a word.” Zoey grinned, her whole body thrumming with eager anticipation. Brooke was going to love tonight. Best of all, the press should leave them alone. Zoey had picked Dapper Day specifically because the park would be crowded, and with so many people dressed over-the-top, the bridal shower guests would easily blend into the crowd.

  A knock echoed through the apartment. Brooke’s eyes were wide and excited. “I can’t believe it. My bridal shower.”

  “I always told you your prince would come.”

  Brooke let out a happy sigh. “Luke is a prince, isn’t he?”

  “He’s definitely rich enough to be one. Limo’s here.”

  Brooke laughed. “Luke?”

  “He insisted on financing tonight, and you know me—I never turn down a man’s money.”