Love Around the Corner
Page 20
“Tell me you’re not afraid,” he said.
“I’m not afraid of anything! I’m just being rational. Dan, this is crazy.”
Dan scoffed dismissively. “Of course you’re afraid.”
“You arrogant, pompous, presumptuous—”
He cut her off, his voice utterly calm. “Mariel, why do you think I’m here right now?”
“Alex told you—”
“Nobody told me anything. I’m here because I knew you would do this. I knew you’d panic and get cold feet.” He took a step closer to her, until the toes of his shiny black dress shoes bumped into the toes of her open-toed satin pumps. “Because, you maddening, sexy, brilliant woman, I know you. I know how strong you are, and I know what you’re afraid of, and I’m here for all of it. The good, the bad, and everything in between. That’s why I want to marry you.”
“I’ve done this before and it was a mistake.”
“That boy you married out of college doesn’t count. I’ve done this before, too. Look.” He gestured to Alex. “I got this amazing kid out of it. I also screwed up. A lot.”
“So—”
“Let me finish. So I know what it takes to make it work. And I know what I did wrong. I know how hard it is to go the distance. That’s why I haven’t gotten married again until now. Because I never met anyone who seemed worth it to me. And I never met anyone who was up to that challenge. Until you.”
Mariel rolled her eyes. “Ugh, do you have to be so goddamned romantic?”
Dan grinned his trademark megawatt grin. “Did it work? Are you going to get your ass out there and walk down that aisle?”
“You stupid, charming asshole.”
He snagged her fingertips with his. “You love this stupid, charming asshole.”
“God help me, yes I do. Now get out of here.” Mariel slapped lightly at his chest. “I have to fix my lipstick.”
Dan backed away, grinning ear to ear. “There’s this altar out there and I’m going to go stand in front of it. I expect you to show up, woman.”
“I said go!” she said, but it was without heat, and there was a smile tugging at her lips as she turned toward the mirror over the vanity.
“Get him out of here,” Jess said, pushing Alex toward the door.
“So it’s okay?”
Jess shook her head in mystification. “I guess so? They confuse me.”
Gemma patted Alex on the arm. “They’re fine. She’ll be out there.”
Alex snagged Dan’s elbow and hauled him toward the door. “Okay, see you guys out there. Dad, let’s go.”
When he opened the door, Livie was on the other side, hand raised about to knock.
“Is everything okay?”
“It is now,” Gemma said, pulling her inside and pushing the Drake boys out. “See you, Dan.” She shut the door in his smiling face.
“What happened?”
“Nerves. But they’re good.”
As Mariel touched up her makeup, and Jess and Livie fluttered around her retrieving her bouquet and finding her earrings, Gemma thought about what Mariel had said. On the surface, she agreed with Mariel’s freak-out. Dan Drake was a terrible bet, by anyone’s estimation. He had a history and it wasn’t good. Mariel had a history and it was painful. There was no logical reason Mariel should trust that it would be different this time.
But something had happened when Dan came to talk to her. He’d seen right through her brave front to the insecurity underneath, to the fear. And then he’d said exactly the right thing to blow that fear away, because, in some crazy way, Dan Drake was the perfect match for Mariel Kemper. He knew what made her tick and he loved her for it.
If you were lucky enough to find that person—well, you’d be a fool to turn them away and screw it all up just because you were afraid, right? Choosing to love, choosing to believe, was the biggest leap of faith a person could make.
Jess was right about trust. Nobody knew what the future held. When you made that promise, there were never any guarantees. All you could do was trust in the person you’d chosen, trust that, no matter what came at you, they’d have your back, they’d be on your side.
Dan’s shady past be damned, Gemma fully believed in this moment, that he would always be Mariel’s staunchest ally. The rest? Well, the rest was up to fate.
“Thanks for that,” Mariel said quietly, adjusting her earring.
“It’s no problem,” Jess said.
Mariel’s eyes dropped to her hands. “There’s no one else I could have said all that to. I don’t have family around anymore.”
“Well,” Gemma said briskly. “Lucky for you you’re part of the Romano family, and once you’re in, there’s no shaking us off. Stick with us and you’ll have more family than you know what to do with.”
Mariel gave her a grateful smile through the mirror. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Now where’s your bouquet?”
“I’ve got it,” Livie said.
“Well, then,” Mariel said, getting to her feet. “I guess I should go get married.”
As Mariel, Jess, and Livie bustled around the suite making last-minute preparations, Gemma took out her phone and scrolled to Brendan’s name. She hadn’t asked him to come today, because it seemed like what she should do. After so many years, they should take it slow, proceed with caution. But the truth was she wanted him here with her. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t get hurt again, but deep down, she trusted Brendan. She trusted the man he’d become. He’d never purposely hurt her again. And that was enough to go on.
Out in the hall, she reached out and grabbed Livie. “Tell Dad I’ll be out in a couple of minutes, okay?”
“Sure. What are you doing?”
“I have a phone call to make.”
She waited until they’d disappeared into the elevator to make the call. Brendan picked up after just two rings. “Hey, what’s up, beautiful? Aren’t you busy today?”
She took a deep breath and made her leap of faith. “So I’m at this super fancy wedding right now, and it’s suddenly occurring to me that it’s a real shame that I don’t have a date.”
Brendan paused for a beat. “It is, huh?”
“I should have asked you,” she said quietly.
“It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t.”
“Okay, here’s the thing. If you’ve got a suit handy and you leave now, you can be here in time for the reception.”
Another long pause, and Gemma’s stomach clenched. Damn, she’d screwed this up already.
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “That’s what I want.”
“Then I’ll be there in time for the reception.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The ceremony was lovely, in the end. Dan and Mariel couldn’t take their eyes off each other as they spoke their vows, and by the end, everyone was crying—even Oprah, who was indeed a guest, and sitting across the aisle from Gemma.
As her family gathered together and prepared to move to the reception hall, Gemma hung back, keeping one eye on the door.
“Gem?” her father asked, when she stayed behind the rest of them. “You coming?”
“In a minute. I just have to go downstairs and check on something.”
She was down in the lobby of the Plaza when Brendan strolled through the glass and brass doors looking like something out of a James Bond movie. He came. Until the relief hit her, she hadn’t realized she’d been a little worried he might not. But he’d come. He was here.
Gemma couldn’t draw in a breath as she watched him look around for her. He was wearing a black suit, closely tailored to his long, slim body, with a crisp white shirt and a silver tie. His golden-red hair looked darker tonight, the gorgeous waves tamed and controlled. He looked delicious and utterly climbable.
H
is eyes finally landed on her and she felt it like a shock down her spine. As his long legs ate up the marble lobby floor, she was frozen in place, getting more turned on with every step closer. He stopped in front of her and smiled. She smiled back. This was it. After fourteen years and a very long detour, they were back together and going public at last.
“Okay,” she said shakily. “You ready for this?”
“Dan Drake’s wedding reception? Absolutely. Let’s go.” He reached for her hand and started for the elevators.
She hauled him to a stop. “No, not just Dan Drake’s wedding reception. My whole family is in there.”
“So?”
“So, like...my dad. My sisters. Their partners. Everybody. Are you ready for that?”
Brendan grinned, all bright white teeth and slashing dimples, the high school Brendan who had charmed the wimple off every nun at Sacred Heart High School. “Gem, it’s gonna be fine. Trust me. Did I tell you how gorgeous you look? You look gorgeous.”
“It’s old.” She tugged at the hem of her dress, feeling small and self-conscious all over again.
“Old or not, it’s hot.”
“Thanks,” she conceded. “You look pretty nice yourself.”
He ran a hand down his lapel. “Lucky for me, I keep suits handy for emergency wedding reception dates.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you.”
“You did ask me. I’m here, aren’t I?”
He really was so damned sweet and charming.
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Am I allowed to kiss you in public?”
She fought down a last flare of nerves. She’d asked him here because she was ready to bring him into her life, and that meant no more hiding. “Yes. Yes, you can kiss me.”
“Good.”
He stepped in close, sweeping an arm around her waist and pulling her up tight against his body. His head dipped and his lips found hers in a hard, hot kiss. An elderly couple passing by smiled and whispered.
“Okay,” he said when he released her. “Are you ready for this?”
No more time for hiding. Fear and self-protection weren’t going to get her anywhere. They certainly weren’t going to get her a future with this man. And that was something she wanted...so very much.
So she took his hand, and she decided to trust him, and she let him lead her to the reception.
* * *
Upstairs, the grand ballroom was overflowing with well-heeled guests. Nothing Brendan hadn’t seen before, but Gemma was hanging on to his hand with a viselike grip as they made their way through the crowd looking for their table.
“How about we sit there?” Brendan gestured to a table to her right, trying to lighten the mood.
“We can’t sit next to Nancy Pelosi!” she hissed.
“Why not? She seems nice.”
“Yeah, she probably is. Which means she’ll make small talk to the people next to her, except I’ll get all flustered and say something dumb.”
“I’m pretty sure she hears dumber stuff every day at work. But don’t sweat it. There are seats free at George and Amal Clooney’s table, anyway. Let’s sit there.”
She took a swipe at his arm. “Will you stop? We’re sitting at the table we’ve been assigned to, which is with my whole family, Mr. Smartass.”
“I told you, Gem, it’s going to be fine.”
“Let’s see what you have to say at the end of the night. You’ll be wishing you’d sat with Nancy Pelosi.”
As they approached the Romano family table, every face turned his direction. John Romano looked surprised—but maybe also just a little bit pleased—as they appeared hand in hand.
“Everybody,” Gemma announced. “This is Brendan Flaherty. He’s, well...” She turned to him, eyes wide with low-key panic. “He’s my boyfriend. I guess.”
It felt wonderful and a little surreal to hear her call him that after all these years, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. Gemma’s announcement was met by the table with a beat of stunned silence. John Romano was the first to break it, slowly getting to his feet and extending his hand. “Nice to see you again, Brendan.”
“Good to see you, too, John.”
John looked briefly at Gemma. “Gemma didn’t mention you’d be here.”
“It was last minute,” Gemma said. “Brendan, this is Dad’s friend, Teresa. Teresa, Brendan. We...”
“Gemma and I went to high school together.” Brendan leaned past Gemma to shake Teresa’s hand.
“Um, Brendan, this is my sister Livie, and her boyfriend Nick, and this is Jessica and her fiancé Alex. Dan is Alex’s dad.”
Brendan made his greetings to the table, paying extra attention to Livie and Jess. He felt like he already knew them so well, listening to Gemma talk about them, but of course he was a complete mystery to them, and the last thing he wanted to do at this point was screw this up. He really wanted her sisters to like him.
“Have we met before?” Livie Romano asked, her dark eyes wide and guileless.
He shook his head. “Don’t think so.” But it was entirely possible she’d seen him lurking around the neighborhood when she was younger. There had been one or two close calls with the girls as he slipped out of their house following an after-school assignation with Gemma.
“Huh. You look so familiar.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Jessica interjected. “We didn’t know Gemma was seeing someone.” She shot her sister a pointed look.
He looked at Gemma. She looked back. “Well, it’s...”
“New,” Gemma said brightly. “Very new.”
And top secret for Gemma. But they were here now and that was good enough.
“Well, have a seat, you two,” John said.
“So,” Teresa said brightly when they were all settled again. “You said you guys went to high school together?”
“Gemma was two years behind me, but yes.”
“John and I went to high school together, too,” Teresa said. “Of course, we weren’t involved back then. He was dating Angela and I was with Dave.”
“You headed to Chicago right after graduation, didn’t you, Brendan?” John asked, something speculative in his eyes.
“Before that, actually. Skipped graduation. Went right to work for my uncle.” He’d missed all those senior year celebrations—prom, the parties, the senior trip, graduation... At the time, it had seemed easier, once his finals were done, to just get it over with and go.
“Huh.” John nodded, as if figuring something out for himself. Then he turned to Teresa. “Brendan’s just moved back to Brooklyn to start a business. He bought the DiPaolas’ building.”
“You did? What are you going to put in there?”
“Ah, I’m going to put an apartment building on the lot, actually.” He braced himself for the chill he was sure was coming. To Gemma and the Romanos, he must seem very much the enemy.
But Teresa just nodded with polite interest. “One of those tall ones, like up the street?”
“No, this will only be three units.” He’d intended it to be six, but then fucking Jimmy Walsh had to come sweeping in to fuck with him. “I like to design developments that are in keeping with the existing neighborhood. Anything above four stories wouldn’t fit in with the rest of the block.”
“That’s nice,” Teresa said, casting a glance at John. “Usually nobody thinks about the neighborhood like that.”
“Brendan’s got some interesting ideas,” John said. He’d given John the short version of his business plan the night he’d met him at the bar, leaving out his personal mission and the impassioned George Bailey bits. It was hard to get a read on John Romano, but he’d seemed quietly impressed. That was before he was dating the guy’s daughter, though. Who knew what he thought of him now?
“What were you doing in Chicago all these ye
ars?” Teresa asked.
“Working for my uncle. He runs Walsh Construction.”
“Oh.” Teresa’s eyes went wide. “Dave...that’s my ex-husband...he worked in building construction in Jersey. I’ve heard of Walsh. That’s a big outfit.”
“It is.”
“And you left all that to come back to Brooklyn?”
“Well, it’s home. I wanted to build something of my own, and I wanted to do it here.”
Servers arrived, silently setting dinner plates in front of them, but that didn’t divert anyone’s attention. “So, Brendan,” Jessica said, leaning forward on her elbows. “You’ve known Gemma for fourteen years?”
“Ah...not exactly. We knew each other in high school, but we, um, lost touch after that.”
“Lost touch,” Jess echoed, glancing pointedly at Livie. “Huh. And you just moved back to Brooklyn?”
He chewed and swallowed. “Yes. A couple of months ago.”
“For good?” Livie asked.
Brendan glanced at Gemma, who was keeping her eyes glued to her plate. He couldn’t quite tell, but he was pretty sure she was fighting back a smile. Well, she had warned him. He didn’t mind, though. It was sweet, seeing how protective they were of Gemma. He’d seen plenty of Gemma’s love and concern for her family. So much that he’d never even dared ask her to follow him to Chicago. It was nice to see they felt the same about her. These were the people who’d loved and supported Gemma when he wasn’t here to do it. He’d never feel resentful of them.
“For good.” He took a bite of his chicken, hoping that might dissuade more questions. No such luck.
“You still have family here?” John asked. John was prodding, too, in his own, subtle way, feeling him out, getting the measure of him.
“My mother lives in Carroll Gardens. My brother is doing his residency in Buffalo.”
“A doctor?” John nodded in approval. “Your dad was a firefighter, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, sir. Engine 233, Bushwick.”
“He died on the job, didn’t he?”
“Oh, in nine-eleven?” Jessica asked, her eyes full of sympathy.