It had been fourteen years. It would be naive to think they could pick up where they left off like everything was fine. Telling people about Brendan would bring a whole lot of scrutiny she wasn’t ready for just yet. She’d have to explain that they’d dated in high school, too, and then there’d be a lot of questions about why she’d kept that a secret and well...what was the point of dredging all that up with her family until she was sure they were going to make a solid go of it?
It didn’t escape her notice that she’d been in exactly this position with him once before. She hadn’t shared him with her family because he’d left before she could. Part of her was still holding her breath out of some irrational fear that it would happen again.
Quickly, she typed out a reply.
Livie’s on her way from the airport.
Right. I forgot that was today. Have fun tomorrow.
And now she felt guilty.
“Gem?” She looked up to find Jess eyeing her speculatively. “Was that Clyde? Is everything okay at the bar?”
“It wasn’t Clyde. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s a Thursday. We’re always dead on Thursdays.” And most other days...
Jess gave another pointed look at Gemma’s phone, and she was about to start scrambling for some believable lie about Kendra when Spudge lifted his head and let out a happy “Wuff.”
Outside, a yellow cab was pulling to a stop at the curb.
“She’s here!”
Suddenly the entry hall was filled to capacity as Gemma, Jess, Dad, Teresa, and Spudge all squeezed in to be at the front door to greet Livie. Dad opened the door just as Livie reached the top step.
“There she is!”
“Dad!” Livie threw herself into Dad’s arms and he swept her up in a bear hug. Gemma had to fight down an unexpected lump in her throat. She didn’t care if Livie was a grown adult. Her moving away had felt like losing a limb.
Jess was next in line to hug Livie. Although their personalities were completely different, less than a year separated them, so Livie and Jess had always shared a unique closeness. In her mind, Gemma sometimes still saw them as little girls—Jess, always the fearless one despite being younger, taking Livie by the hand as they toddled into preschool together. And now here they were, all grown up. Jess, engaged and living with Alex, Livie all the way out in Colorado on her own.
Well, not on her own. She had Nick, and here he came now, maneuvering up the walk with both of their suitcases and overloaded backpacks slung over each shoulder. Okay, it was nice of him to manage the luggage so Livie didn’t have to.
Jess finally let go of her and Livie turned to Gemma.
“You look so great,” Gemma said through her tears. Livie looked better than good. She’d finally cut off her thick curtain of dark wavy hair, and now it swung around her shoulders, pretty and stylish. She’d started dressing as if she had a body under her clothes, instead of shrouding herself in her father’s hand-me-down flannel shirts. And most importantly, she looked happy. Her dark eyes were bright with laughter, and her smile was wide and genuine. It was like the light Gemma had always known was inside of her had finally been turned on for the rest of the world to see.
As she pulled her sister into a tight hug, reveling in her familiar smell, Nick struggled up the steps with the bags.
“Hey, felon. Hack anybody interesting lately?” Gemma said to him over Livie’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Nick protested, dropping the bags inside the door. “I’m gainfully employed by the federal government now, thank you very much.”
Livie drew back. “Nick hasn’t hacked anybody in ages.”
“Only because he’ll go to prison if he does.”
“Truth,” Nick said. “And when this gorgeous girl is on the outside, prison looks pretty grim.” He slung an arm around Livie’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. She blushed. Seriously, they’d been together for months now and he could still make her blush. It was kind of cute. “It’s nice to see you, too, Gem,” Nick said to her, hiking one eyebrow.
“Ah come on. You know I love to give you grief.”
“Yeah, I know it. Most of the time, I deserve it.”
Livie moved on to hug Teresa while Gemma relented and hugged Nick, too. She really did like him, but it was good to keep him on his toes.
“You guys must be starving,” she said, when the hugs and greetings had been completed. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
* * *
“So then this kid turns up in my office telling me he missed the midterm because his grandmother died,” Livie said as she pushed her empty plate away.
“So?” Jess asked. “I know it’s a cliché, but sometimes grandmothers do die.”
“Sure, but his has died no less than nine times,” Livie said.
“What?”
“One of the TAs in the English department had started a thread on the graduate student message boards, asking if he’d used the excuse with anybody else. By the time I saw it, nine people had chimed in. So I got to be the one to issue my condolences for his tenth dead grandmother. And then I flunked him in my class.”
Everybody around the table laughed as Gemma marveled at the changes in Livie. She was so much more confident now. She chatted easily about her life in Colorado, her research at the university, and her plans for the future. She was going to Chile this summer! Apparently, they had some massive telescope down there, and if her school could work out the logistics, they were sending her down to work for a month.
Transferring to McArthur University to finish her PhD had been the best thing to ever happen to her. Gemma was unbearably proud of her, even if living without her was hard.
Livie shifted her attention to Jess and Alex, who’d come over after work to join them for dinner. “So, Jess, how is Mariel holding up with all this last-minute wedding planning?”
“Losing her mind. Thank god Gemma volunteered to deal with the caterers, or I really do think she’d have called the whole thing off.”
“No way Dad would have let that happen,” Alex said. “He’s counting the minutes.”
“Well, I think it’s great you pitched in to help her out, Gemma.”
“It was just a few tastings. No big deal.” It was hardly a trial. Choosing the menus for the wedding, with no budget restrictions, hadn’t been a burden at all. It had been the most fun she’d had in ages. Outside of Brendan’s bed, anyway.
“It’s a big deal to Mariel,” Jess said. “She doesn’t really have any family to help out.”
“Well, she’s going to get plenty of family with us all there,” John said.
“Everybody’s invited?” Livie asked.
“Sure,” Jess replied. “Me and Alex, of course, and you and Nick, and Dad and Teresa, and Gemma.”
Gemma’s stomach sank as the realization hit her. Oh, God, every member of her family was bringing a plus-one to this thing except her. Maybe she should have invited Brendan. But bringing him to this wedding, introducing him to her entire family and all their partners...nope. There was no way she’d subject him to the Romano Family Inquisition right out of the gate. Not until she was sure about him.
Soon, she promised herself. She’d introduce him soon. Just not now, not like this.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The next day, Alex and Jess arrived early to pick up Livie and Nick for the wedding. Jess wanted to be there to give Mariel a hand if she needed anything. Once they’d gone and the house quieted down, Gemma shut herself in her room to examine herself in the speckled mirror over her dresser. The glass was hazy and spotted, because it dated back to her great-grandmother’s day, but she’d found a little haze on the mirror could be flattering.
Twisting to the side, she examined the back of her dress, a simple black knit sheath. A few years back, it seemed someone she’d grown up with or gone to high school with was getting married every other mo
nth. She’d bought the dress for the first wedding, not realizing just how many she’d be attending in the next few years. She didn’t have a lot of call for cocktail dresses in her ordinary life—like, none at all—so she wasn’t going out buying a new dress every time another heavy, white, calligraphied envelope dropped through the mail slot. The dress, which she’d ironically nicknamed her wedding dress, had gotten quite a workout. At least no one at Dan and Mariel’s wedding would have seen it before.
She looked okay, she decided. The dress did a decent job of showing off her curves. Her eyes were smoky and dark, and she’d worn her hair down, loose and straight. She kept hearing Brendan’s voice in her head as she brushed it out. He loved it when she wore it loose. For about the hundredth time, she wondered if she’d made a mistake not inviting him. Well, it was too late now. They were leaving for the city any minute. She just hoped being the lone singleton in her family wouldn’t feel as awkward as she feared.
Her father bellowed up the stairs, putting an end to her last-minute primping. “We need to get going if we’re gonna beat that Midtown Tunnel traffic!”
She swiped on a little more deep red lipstick, grabbed her tiny black purse, and hurried downstairs where her father and Teresa were waiting.
* * *
The whole evening was beginning to feel surreal, and the wedding hadn’t even started yet. Gemma had never stepped foot inside the Plaza Hotel, or anywhere nearly as swanky. The closest she’d come was her high school graduation dinner at Gargiulo’s Catering Hall in Coney Island. One quick glance around the other guests in the lobby told her the price tag on her dress needed about three more zeroes on it to fit in. Her fingers traced her neckline, making sure those little hanging loops were tucked in all the way and that her bra straps were staying put. Dad, looking uncomfortable in his black suit and tie, tugged at his shirt collar.
“Stop tugging on your tie, John,” Teresa scolded gently, surreptitiously smoothing a hand over her blond French twist. “You’ll mess up the knot.”
“Damned thing’s about to strangle me.”
Upstairs in the entrance hall off the elevator, they wound their way through Dan and Mariel’s impressive guest list. Gemma recognized more than a few famous faces, a reminder of just how rich and powerful Dan Drake was. It was a good thing she often forgot that in his presence, or else she might feel embarrassed about that time last Thanksgiving when she argued with him about a cooking show that had been canceled on one of his networks.
At the entrance to the high-ceilinged Terrace Room, Gemma gasped and stopped in her tracks.
“It’s...so pretty,” she breathed.
“Oh, it’s just lovely,” Teresa sighed beside her.
Rows of gilded chairs faced away from them, each tied with a sheer cream ribbon on the back. The sides of the room were lined with tall, arching branches, scattered with little white blossoms. Suspended among the branches were thousands of little flickering tea lights in hanging glass holders. More candles floated in large glass vases, half-filled with water, on every available horizontal surface. At the front of the room, an arch had been fashioned from more flowering branches, and a carpet of candles illuminated it softly from below.
“Dan sure knows how to do it up right,” John said. “Wonder what all this set him back?”
Gemma knew how much the catering bill was and the answer was...a lot.
A woman in a black dress stepped forward to greet them and offer a wedding program. With a flare of panic, Gemma realized the hostess’s black dress was probably nicer than her black dress. “Bride or groom?” the woman asked.
“Um, both?” Mariel was Jess’s boss and mentor. Dan was her future father-in-law.
“Then feel free to sit where you like.” She gestured toward the white silk runner that ran the length of the room between the two banks of chairs. They’d just picked out a row near the back—right behind a well-known cable news anchor—when Gemma’s phone buzzed in her purse.
When she fished it out, there was a text from Jess.
You here yet?
Just got here. What’s up?
Mariel’s a little freaked out. I could use a hand.
Freaked out? About what?
What could she possibly be freaked out about? Everything was beautiful.
Jess texted again.
Getting married.
Oh. Oh, dear.
I’ll be right there. Where are you?
She stood up quickly. “I have to go. Jess needs me.”
Dad looked up at her. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” she answered uneasily. “It’ll be fine.”
* * *
Gemma made her way to the suite that had been reserved for the bride. She tapped lightly on the door and moments later, Jess swung it open.
“What’s going on?”
“Um, an attack of nerves, I think.”
Just then, Mariel paced past behind Jess, muttering to herself. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I mean, I must be out of my mind. I have two Pulitzers! How can I be this stupid?”
Jess turned to Gemma with wide, panicked eyes. “That.”
Gemma sidled in and shut the door behind her. “Hey, Mariel, what’s up?”
Mariel stopped pacing and swung around to face her. If Gemma looked half as good as Mariel Kemper when she hit fifty, she’d count herself blessed. The woman had some amazing genes—flawless, unlined, creamy skin, gorgeous cheekbones, and stunning green eyes. Her thick chestnut hair fell in satiny waves around her shoulders, held back on one side by a spray of phalaenopsis orchids. Her dress, a long-sleeved, bias cut, cream charmeuse sheath, cut straight and high across the front but draping dramatically in back, baring her back to her waist, made her look like a thirties film star.
Mariel was also scary smart and a total badass. She had no time for bullshit, which is why it was a wonder that slick, charming Dan Drake had managed to get under her skin. If it had been just about scratching an itch, she’d have tossed him aside months ago. But here she was, wearing the white dress and an enormous piece of ice on her left hand, because the guy had gotten into her heart, too, even if she was currently too freaked out to remember that part.
Mariel’s hands twisted around each other. “I’m about to make a terrible mistake.”
“Why do you say that?” Gemma asked cautiously.
“I’m about to marry Dan Drake! Anyone in America could tell you that’s a disaster waiting to happen. Hell, most of our guests would tell you that.”
Mariel spun around and stormed over to one of the plush white leather sofas in the living area, dropping on it in an ungraceful heap of shimmering fabric.
“Why do you think this is a mistake?” Gemma asked.
“Because I’ve done this before, and it was an absolute disaster.”
“You’ve been married before?” Jess asked in surprise.
“I was twenty-two, right out of college, and absolutely clueless. I thought it was true love.” Mariel snorted dismissively. “It didn’t last a year.”
Gemma crossed the room and perched on the edge of the coffee table, so she was eye level with Mariel. “What happened?”
“I got my first byline before he did, that’s what happened. Men can’t handle a successful woman. I learned that early.”
“Some men can’t handle a successful woman,” Jess conceded, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “But Dan’s no ordinary man.”
“No, he’s ten times worse!” Mariel said, spearing a finger in the air for emphasis. “He’s spent his whole life chasing twenty-year-old bimbos. You know why? Because twenty-year-old bimbos don’t challenge him. They make it easy, and he likes it easy. Leopards don’t change their spots, and I am not easy.”
“Maybe,” Gemma said, “he’s marrying you because you do challenge him. Maybe he likes that you’re not easy.”
Mariel was silent for a moment, staring into the middle distance, her expression bleak. “But will that be enough?” she whispered. “How long is he going to be intrigued by me? How do you know, when you say ‘I do,’ that it’ll last forever? That he won’t get bored? That I won’t get bored? That you won’t end up hating each other?”
Wow, wasn’t that a question for the ages? Gemma had thought she’d had it all figured out at sixteen. She’d been ready to promise the rest of her life to Brendan, when, in retrospect, there was so much she hadn’t known about him, so much she hadn’t understood. And sure, he’d known her situation, but he hadn’t even met her family. They’d both had such complicated lives. Had they been equipped in any way to weather the inevitable storms? Maybe, under those pressures, they’d have imploded after a year, too. What did teenagers know about true love anyway?
“You don’t know,” Jess acknowledged. “You don’t know who he’ll become, or who you’ll become, or what those two future people are going to think of each other. I guess you just have to ask yourself this: Do you trust him? Do you believe that he respects you? Enough to do right by you, no matter what happens, no matter who you both become?”
Mariel looked down at her hands as she thought about that. Before she could answer, a knock came at the door to the suite.
“I’ll get it.” Gemma hurried to the door. When she opened it, Alex was standing there, with Dan right behind him. Gemma looked back over her shoulder. “I’m not sure this is a good time.”
“He insisted.” Alex sighed.
“You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding,” Gemma told Dan desperately.
“Bullshit,” Dan barked. “I want to see her and she wants to see me, too, whether the stubborn woman will admit it or not.”
“Oh, hell.” Gemma stepped aside and let them in.
Dan crossed the room in a few strides, his natural confidence and star power radiating off him. Mariel was on her feet before he reached her, ready to go toe-to-toe with him even now.
Love Around the Corner Page 19