by Rye Hart
Lydia DuBois, my mother, made a stunning bride and she knew it. Although she was a woman who was approaching fifty, you would have never guessed it. Her blonde hair was piled high into an intricate updo, soft tendrils falling around her face. She was petite, like me, but that's where the similarities between us ended.
While I never knew my father, I was told I took after him – the Irish side of my family tree. I was born with red hair, and my mom said she knew my name the moment she saw me – Ember, to represent the fire on my head and in my heart.
Both of us stood right around five-foot-three, but where my mom was waifish, I had curves. I would never be a size two like my mother was, a fact she enjoyed flaunting.
She walked down the aisle slowly, all eyes on her in a Chantilly lace, vintage-style gown. My mom was a former petite model back in the day. Had she had the height, there was no doubt she would have been on runways around the world. But, being under the five-foot-six minimum for runway models meant she never knew international stardom. It didn't stop her from using what fame she did have to build herself an empire though – complete with rich husbands.
Yes, I said husbands. This wasn't my mom's first rodeo, and I somehow doubted it would be her last.
My eyes moved back over to Jude who was staring at my mother. He was smiling, sure, but the look wasn't nearly as intense as it should be for someone about to marry the love of his life. I guess it could just be my jealousy talking, but he seemed rather somber for what was supposed to be such a happy day. His piercing blue eyes turned toward me, catching me staring at him, and I quickly turned my attention back on my mother. My cheeks flushed red and I had to physically fight my urge to look at him again.
The ceremony, like her others, was quick and to the point. I hardly listened to the words uttered by the pastor – it wasn't like my mother would actually take her vow of forever seriously. Unless, of course, Jude was actually the one for her. But, how would they have known? They'd barely dated for three months before they were suddenly engaged. This was the first time I was meeting him in person. I had seen him around before though. Everybody knew who he was. Jude Calloway was all over magazines and television shows. The self-made billionaire had all the girls in a tizzy – me included. It almost wasn't fair that someone like my mom would get to be with him. My mom was beautiful, but ruthless, and I knew the sole reason she wanted Jude had less to do with love and more to do with his bank account. That was just a given with her.
“You may kiss your bride!” the pastor said, and my ears perked up.
I watched as Jude wrapped his strong arms around my mother's back, pulling her into him. His gaze flicked up and away from her, meeting my eyes for a split second before he lowered his face again and pressed his lips to hers. My insides ached as I watched my mom paw at this gorgeous man, wishing it was me, instead of her, in his arms.
“It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Jude Calloway!” the pastor said to thunderous applause from the audience.
The recessional music started playing and we all filed out. I was directly behind the happy couple and tried to keep my head down. Don't stare at his ass, Ember. Do not stare at your new step-father's ass, no matter how tight and fine it may be.
Right then, I knew my summer break at home – with the two of them – was going to be the hardest summer of my damned life. Maybe I should have tried to book a trip somewhere instead. The thought dissipated as quickly as it had appeared though. My mom wanted me to spend time with her and my new stepdad over the summer. She called it “bonding time.”
Bonding time. Right. For me, it was going to be a summer of trying not to get caught thinking dirty thoughts about my mom's new husband.
I should have gone to Bora Bora instead.
***
My best friend Talia was sitting near the front of the reception hall with her parents. I, of course, was seated at the front with the rest of the wedding party and was surrounded by my aunts and my mother's best friend. I was the youngest person at the bridesmaid's table by at least a couple decades. The groomsmen's table, on the other hand, looked more age appropriate for me.
Jude was a bit younger than my mother. Okay, more than a bit – he was only ten years older than me. It would have made more sense for the two of us to be getting married, looking at it that way. But, for whatever reason, he'd fallen in love with my cougar mom. I was sitting beside my aunt Janice, listening to her regale us with stories about my mother sneaking out of their house when she was fifteen, so she could fuck her boyfriend at the time.
I downed the glass of champagne in front of me. There wasn't enough alcohol in the place for this. I yawned, and Talia shot me a look of pity. I rolled my eyes and pretended to gag myself with a finger. I couldn't wait for these damn toasts to be over and for the dancing to begin. At least then, we could have some fun – and I wouldn't have to listen to these horrible stories about my mother. Seriously, the last thing I wanted to think about was my mom sneaking out of her house to have sex.
Toast after toast rolled on though, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes. Yes, congrats to the happy couple, may they live happily after ever. Yes, yes. Gag me. Truth be told, Jude Calloway was too good for my mother, and sooner or later, he'd realize it. They'd all realize it once they saw the real Lydia DuBois.
Dominic, the best man, stood up to toast Jude and my mom. I looked him over and wondered if he was single, since Jude was off the market. He was around the same age as Jude with slightly longer jet-black hair and brown eyes. He was darker complected, almost as if he spent a lot of time in the sun, and as far as I could tell, he had a killer body underneath that designer suit he had on.
He caught my eye and winked, giving me a warm and sincere smile. Maybe there were a few good men left in the world.
“Let me tell you about Jude in college,” Dominic said, his smile stretching wide across his boyish face.
Where Jude was all sharp angles and chiseled features, Dominic looked more like the boy next door. Handsome and somewhat wholesome, though in a less conventional way.
Jude chuckled, “Please don't,” he said to uproarious laughter. “No one should have to relive my college days.”
“Oh, but everyone should hear about the time you and – what was her name again? Sally? Cindy?”
“Sandra,” Jude said, clearing his throat.
He shook his head, his blue eyes staring down at his place. I swear there was a hint of color in his cheeks. He looked for all the world like his best friend was about to embarrass him. Yet, he laughed along, taking it in stride.
“Sandra. Oh, right. How could I forget? I mean, she had a tight little –” Dominic covered his mouth, pretending to be shocked at himself for almost saying something wrong. “Anyway. Sandra was completely in love with Jude. Like overly in love with the guy. She was always following him around like a lost little puppy dog...”
I started to wonder if this story was going to be wedding appropriate. My mother cocked an eyebrow as she looked over at Jude, leaning in, likely asking him the same thing that I was thinking. I mean, the last thing you want to hear about on your wedding day are the sexual escapades of your brand-new husband. Jude just patted her arm and nodded, whispering something back to her.
“Anyway, long story short, Jude was not into Sandra. Like, at all. And there was absolutely no way to get her to leave him alone, she was just always there. He just couldn't shake her,” Dominic said and motioned to the to two groomsmen beside him. “Well, being the good friends that we were, Nathanial here, and Zane and I all came up with a plan.”
A devilish grin spread across Dominic's face. Nathanial laughed, running a hand through his reddish-brown hair, shaking his head and muttering to himself. He, like the others, was also pretty easy on the eyes. Zane remained stoic and serious, staring up at Dominic as if he didn't know how the story ended. Zane's eyes turned to me, and they were dark, sparkling – looking like black pearls against a darker face. His gaze washed over me and stole
my breath.
How is it possible for a man to have so many hot friends? It should be illegal. Jude's side of the wedding party's table looked like it had been made up of Calvin Klein models. My mother's side, on the other hand, was filled by me and a bunch of cougars, all of them eyeing up the groomsmen like I was. Especially since that side of the table also had more combined wealth than some small European countries.
I missed most of Dominic's speech, but caught the very end. The punchline to it all, I guess.
“And Sandra left him alone from that day forward, assuming he was dating one of us. Not that I could blame her, I mean, we are a handsome bunch, aren't we?”
Dominic winked at me again as he started to wrap up his story, that boyish smile sending a flutter through my heart.
“Anyway,” he said. “The moral of this story, besides embarrassing the groom – which I hope I've done well enough – is that Lydia has nothing to worry about. Had he not loved you, and I mean one hundred percent loved you, he would have found a way to get out of this wedding. Which probably would have included one of us up here having to pretend to date him again. Thankfully, he fell in love with you though.”
Ouch. I knew it was a joke, but that sounded a little harsh. Still, I stifled a laugh, though inside of me, there was a pit of jealousy low in my belly.
“And he would have had his three best friends to help him. No matter what, Jude, we've got your back,” Dominic said. “I'm gonna miss the wild, raucous times though, man. I'm not gonna lie. But, I – and the rest of us – are happy that you're happy.”
The room exploded in applause and cheers as Dominic took a bow. My ears perked up though. Jude wasn't known as the Playboy type. Not too much at least. For the most part, he seemed to keep to himself. There was always a bit of a mystery about him. He didn't date, didn't party, there were no great scandals that rocked the tabloids. The idea that he and his friends had wild, raucous times intrigued me more than it should have.
I glanced over at Jude, and again, he caught me staring. Neither one of us looked away this time though. His gaze burned into me and felt like it set something on fire within me.
He had to know who I was. Even though we hadn't had a chance to talk yet, he had to know I was his new wife's daughter, right? Mom told him about me, hadn't she? I had to think she did because of the way he stared at me. There was a curious spark in his eyes, almost as if he was trying to figure me out. There was something in his eyes though, that was a little more than just curious. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Of course, I was trying to read him too, so perhaps that was all it was.
As soon as the toasts were thankfully and mercifully over, and the traditional dances were out of the way, Talia rushed over to me and grabbed my hand.
“Come on, bestie!” she squealed. “First dance is with me.”
“Ugh, moving in this gown is going to be a pain in my ass,” I groaned, downing another glass of champagne before I hit the dance floor.
“I bet, it's pretty form fitting,” Talia said. “But you look hot, and with the number of gorgeous guys here tonight, I think it'll work in your favor.”
“Yeah, well, who knows if any of them are single,” I laughed.
My aunt, Janice, was already all over Dominic, her hand resting on his chest as she gazed into his eyes seductively. My mom's best friend – and Talia's mother – was talking to Zane, a flirtatious look upon her face.
Talia laughed. “Mom's divorce isn't even final, sheesh,” she said, shaking her head. “These women – am I right? They're trying to poach all these hot, available men from us.”
“Nathanial looks lonely over there,” I said, eyeing up the auburn-haired man.
He caught me staring and shot me an enigmatic smile. I smiled back and turned to Talia.
“Heh. Technically so does the groom,” Talia said.
Jude towered over every man in attendance at the wedding, both in height and status. A virtual celebrity of sorts – at least of the local variety. He stood apart from the crowd, sipping his scotch, watching the party going on around him. My mother was nowhere to be seen, and my eyes kept drifting over to him. I was still finding it difficult to believe that he was my stepfather now.
How my mother managed to snag someone like him, I'd never know.
Not that she could have known, but Jude had long been a crush of mine. Hair the color of fine, aged whiskey, and eyes only a shade or two lighter. He was broad shouldered, dominant, yet strangely enough, seemed somehow introverted. Everything about him oozed sex appeal, from the tailored and expensive suits to his chiseled face that was somehow both hardened, yet gentle, thanks to the softness in his eyes and lips.
His eyes scanned the crowd as if he was looking for someone. His arms were crossed in front of him, his glass of scotch hanging loosely in one hand, and he wasn't even smiling. At his own wedding, there was no reason for a man to look so lonely.
Sighing, I said, “Maybe I should finally introduce myself.”
“You mean you haven't met him yet?”
I shook my head. “No, I was away at school during their little whirlwind romance,” I said. “Just flew in this morning and it was too hectic.”
Talia nudged me, her smile wide, her tone teasing. “Then go say hi to your new stepdad.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Please don't call him that. He's like – almost my age.”
“Nah, he's got a good decade on you,” Talia said.
“Still closer in age to me than my mother,” I said under my breath. “And if I'm being honest, it feels so weird to have a stepdad as young and handsome as him.”
Talia cocked an eyebrow and grinned at me. “Handsome, eh?”
“Come on, he's hot. You and I both know it. Hell, everyone in Chicago knows it. Stop trying to pretend you haven't noticed just to make me feel weirder than I already do,” I said and laughed. “And he's my stepdad. How fucking bizarre is that?”
“Plenty bizarre,” she said. “But, it's time for you to put on your big girl panties and go introduce yourself to the man.”
I sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
I grabbed another glass of champagne from a nearby tray – a little extra fortification never hurt – and walked over to join Jude, where he was leaning against the wall. When he saw me walking toward him, he stopped looking so serious and smiled at me. His smile seemed to light up the room and set my heart fluttering, I swear.
Before I even had a chance to speak, he said, “So you're the mysterious Ember I keep hearing about,” he said. “I was beginning to think you were like Bigfoot – lots of people talking about you, but impossible to prove your existence.”
“Oh, so you do know who I am?” I teased.
“Of course I do. You're my stepdaughter,” he said.
His smile wavered though, and that word sounded a little painful even for him. Still, he held himself together nicely.
“Your mom has told me so much about you,” he said.
I leaned against the wall, mirroring his position and stared out at the dance floor, trying to keep myself in check. Mom was in the center of a circle, surrounded by her sisters and friends, obviously drunk as a college frat boy, dancing her ass off, acting the fool. I can't help but feel a little embarrassed for her.
“Hopefully you didn't believe everything she said about me,” I muttered, sipping my champagne. “Because I'm not so bad as my mother makes me out to be.”
Jude side-eyed me, a lop-sided grin on his face. “Come on, she told me all kinds of good things about you.”
“Oh? Like what?” I said, turning to face him, head cocked to the side as I waited for an answer.
“Well, she said you're feisty –”
“Are those her words? Or are you paraphrasing to make her sound nicer? Because truthfully, I've never heard my mom call me feisty. Bitchy, maybe. Feisty, no.”
Jude mirrored me this time, turning to face me. We both leaned against the wall, but we were facing each
other instead of the dance floor. His eyes were intense and bored into mine as if he could see into me, and learn my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Okay, maybe she didn't use those exact words, but your mother clearly loves you, Ember,” he says.
His smile wavered for a moment. Not because I thought he was lying, but because of something else. Something I couldn't quite place.
“I'm sure she does, But, our relationship is a bit strained, to say the least,” I say. “But enough about me. How did you and my mother meet exactly?”
“She hasn't told you?”
“No, she rarely tells me these things,” I said, swirling the champagne around in my glass. “I honestly didn't know the two of you were an item until she told me you were getting married, and that I'd need to cancel my summer plans to be here.”
“I'm sorry to ruin your plans, Ember,” he said. “Hopefully we can have a nice summer anyway.”
“You didn't answer my question,” I said, staring at his serious face.
“Oh, about how I met your mom?” he asked. “She happened to be seated next to me at a charitable event, and we hit it off.”
“Was this the one for dying kids or homeless vets?” I asked. “Because my mom goes to a lot of charitable events.”
Mostly to meet men like Jude, but I kept that part to myself.
He cracked a smile at me. “The one for childhood cancer, yes.”
“Ahh, yes, my aunt Janice works for the organization,” I said.
No wonder my mom got prime seating next to the man of the hour. Them meeting was not a coincidence, no way in hell. But, I wasn't about to tell Jude that.
“I've heard you give a lot to charity,” I say. “That you're a very philanthropic man.”
“I try,” he said, shrugging. “Especially childhood cancer. My brother died when I was ten. Leukemia. Made an impression on me.”
“Oh God, I didn't know,” I said. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
I covered my mouth, feeling like a real asshole for how flippantly I'd referred to the organization earlier. Jude shrugged, and stared down at his drink for a moment. His face looked serious and distant.