Rogue

by Danielle Steel

  “That's the name of our boat,” Blake said, with his eyes closed, and passed out cold.

  Chapter 24

  The phone rang interminably in Maxine's house the next morning. It was ten o'clock, and it rang and rang and no one answered. Everyone was still sleeping. Sam finally heard it, and got out of bed to go answer it. There wasn't a sound in the house.

  “Hello?” Sam said, still wearing his pajamas, as he yawned. They had all been up late, and he was tired. He didn't know where anyone else was, except he knew Daphne had had too much champagne the night before, but he had promised not to tell when she threw up when they got home.

  “Hi, Sam.” It was Charles. He sounded wide awake. “Can I talk to your mom, please? I just want to say hello. I know she must be very busy before the wedding.” She had told him that she had someone coming to do her hair and makeup. And he was sure the house was a zoo. “Can you go get her? I'll only take a minute.” Sam put down the phone, and padded in his bare feet to her bedroom. He looked through the open door, and saw both his parents sound asleep with their clothes on. His father was snoring. He didn't want to wake them up, so he went back to the phone and picked up the receiver.

  “They're still sleeping,” he announced firmly.

  “They?” Charles knew it couldn't be Sam, since he was talking to him. So who was she sleeping with at this hour, on their wedding day? It made no sense to him.

  “My dad's in there too. He's snoring,” Sam explained. “I'll tell her you called when she wakes up.” The phone clicked in Sam's ear before he hung up, and he went back upstairs to his room. Since no one else was awake, he didn't see why he had to get ready yet. He turned on the TV, and for once, he couldn't even hear Zellie's baby. It sounded like everyone was dead.

  The hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly at ten-thirty. Zelda let them in, realized what time it was, and went to wake Maxine up. Zelda was surprised to see Blake sleeping beside her. But she could figure out what had happened. They both had their clothes on. They must have gotten drunk off their asses the night before. She poked Max gently on the shoulder, and after half a dozen attempts, she finally stirred, and looked up at Zelda with a moan. She closed her eyes immediately and clutched her head with both hands. Blake was still sound asleep beside her, and was snoring like a bulldog.

  “Oh my God,” Maxine said, squeezing her eyes closed against the light. “Oh my God …I have a brain tumor and I'm dying.”

  “I think it could be the champagne,” Zelda said quietly, trying not to laugh at her.

  “Stop shouting!” Maxine said, with her eyes closed.

  “You're in bad shape,” Zelda confirmed to her. “Your hairdresser and makeup person are here. What should I tell them?”

  “I don't need a hairdresser,” she said, trying to sit up. “I need a brain surgeon … oh my God,” she said, looking down at Blake. “What's he doing here?” And then she remembered. She looked at Zelda then in amazement.

  “I think you're okay. You're both dressed.”

  Maxine poked him then, and shook him awake. He stirred, and moaned just as she had.

  “Maybe it's an epidemic of brain tumors,” Zelda suggested, as Blake opened his eyes and looked at both of them with a grin.

  “I've been kidnapped. Hi, Zellie. How come your baby's not screaming?”

  “I think he wore himself out. What can I get you both?”

  “A doctor,” Maxine said. “No … shit … don't even think it. If Charles saw us, he'd kill me.”

  “He doesn't have to know,” Zelda said firmly. “It's none of his business. You're not his wife yet.”

  “And I never will be, if he hears about this,” Maxine moaned. Blake was beginning to think that wasn't such a bad idea. He stood up then, testing his sea legs, straightened his tie, and walked unsteadily toward the door.

  “I'll go home,” he said, as though that was a revolutionary concept.

  “Drink a lot of coffee when you do,” Zelda suggested. They both still looked drunk to her, or had the worst hangovers she'd ever seen. “How much did you two drink anyway?” Zelda asked Maxine as they heard the front door close behind Blake.

  “A lot. Champagne always kills me,” Maxine said as she crawled off the bed, just as Sam came into the room to find her.

  “Where's Daddy?” he asked, looking at his mom. She looked a lot worse than Daphne, who was hung over too.

  “He went home.” Maxine tiptoed across the room as fireworks went off in her head. It was a repeat performance of last night, but not nearly as pretty.

  “Charles called you,” Sam announced, and his mother stopped dead in her tracks and looked like she'd been shot.

  “What did you tell him?” she said hoarsely.

  “I said you were asleep.” She closed her eyes in relief. She didn't dare ask him if he'd mentioned his father. “He said he was just calling to say hello and he'd see you at the wedding, or something like that.”

  “I can't call him. I'm too sick. He'll know I got drunk last night, and then he'll worry.”

  “You'll see him at the wedding,” Zelda said. “You're a mess. We have to get you going. Take a shower, I'll get some coffee.”

  “Good … yes … that's a very good idea.” She got in the shower, and it felt like knives on her skin.

  While she was in the shower, Zelda ran upstairs to wake the kids. Daphne looked almost as bad as her mother, and Zelda scolded her and promised not to tell. And Jack got out of bed, and ran downstairs for breakfast. He was fine. He had only had one glass of champagne, and soda the rest of the night, which saved him from a fate like his sister's.

  Zelda poured two cups of coffee into Maxine, and scrambled eggs, under protest. She handed her two aspirin with the coffee, and the hairdresser went to work on her in the kitchen. Even having her makeup put on was painful, and having her hair done was worse. But she had to. She couldn't wear a ponytail and no makeup to her wedding.

  Within half an hour, Maxine had her makeup on, and she looked better than ever. She felt awful, but it didn't show. The woman had done a good job, and Maxine's face was glowing. The hairdresser had swept her hair up in a simple French twist, and put a small row of pearls in it. Maxine could hardly move as she got up, and there were razor blades piercing her eyeballs every time she faced the sunlight.

  “I swear, Zellie, I'm dying,” she said, closing her eyes for a minute.

  “You're gonna be fine,” Zelda reassured her, as Daphne came downstairs, pale, but with her hair combed neatly and lip gloss on, which was all her mother would allow her. Maxine was too sick to notice that Daphne was also hung over, and Sam didn't say a word, nor did Zellie.

  At twenty to twelve, all the children, including Daphne, were dressed. Zelda had made Daphne put the lavender dress on, with the threat that she'd tell she'd gotten drunk if she didn't. It worked. Then Zelda went to get Maxine's dress and shoes, while Maxine herself stood looking like a lame horse in the kitchen, with her eyes closed.

  Maxine slipped into the shoes and let Zelda help her with the dress. She zipped her up and tied the sash, and her children gasped when they saw her. She looked like a fairy princess.

  “You look really pretty, Mom,” Daphne said, and meant it.

  “Thank you. I feel like shit. I think I have the flu.”

  “You and Daddy got drunk last night,” Sam said, giggling, as his mother gave him an evil look.

  “Don't you tell anyone that. Especially not Charles.”

  “I promise.” He didn't even remember that he had told Charles his father was snoring.

  The cars were waiting for them outside, and a minute later Zelda came back in a red silk dress, black patent leather shoes, and she was carrying her baby. He was starting to stir, but he wasn't crying yet. Maxine knew that if he did, it would split her head in two, and she silently begged him not to. They were meeting her parents and Blake at the church. Charles would be waiting for her at the altar. Suddenly, mostly due to her extreme hangover, she assumed, the thoug
ht of a church service and a wedding made her feel slightly sick.

  There was a car for Zellie and the children, and another one for her. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes on the way to the church. It was the worst hangover she had ever had. She was convinced that God was punishing her because Blake had spent the night. That wasn't supposed to happen. But at least nothing else had.

  The limousine she was in pulled up behind the church at five to twelve. And the one with the children was right behind her. They had made it. Maxine walked as steadily as she could into the rectory, and her parents were waiting for her there. Blake was supposed to come and get the children before the service, and he walked in right behind her. He looked worse than she did. They looked like a matched set. Two sorry drunks the next day. She smiled at him painfully, and he laughed at her, and kissed her on the forehead.

  “You look gorgeous, Max. But you're a mess.”

  “Yeah, you too.” She was happy to see him.

  “I'm sorry about last night,” he whispered to her. “I shouldn't have let you have the last of the champagne.”

  “Don't worry, I did it to myself. I think I wanted to get drunk.” Her parents were listening with interest to the exchange, just as the rectory door flew wide, and Charles stormed in. He looked at all of them with wild eyes and then at Maxine in her wedding gown. He wasn't supposed to see her. He was supposed to be at the altar. As he glared at her, the florist handed her her bouquet and tried to pin a tiny orchid on Charles's lapel. He brushed him away.

  “You were with him last night, weren't you?!” he shouted at Maxine, pointing at Blake. And at the sound of it, she clutched her head.

  “Oh God, don't scream!”

  Charles looked from her to Blake and realized how hung over she was. He had never seen her that way.

  “I had too much to drink, and he fell asleep,” she explained. “Nothing happened.”

  “I don't believe a word of it!” he said, glaring at her. “You're lunatics, all of you. You two act like you're still married. Your children are brats. Crack babies, yachts, bimbos. You're sickos, all of you. And I'm not marrying you, Maxine. You couldn't pay me to marry into this family. And I'm sure you've been sleeping with him all along.” As he said it, Maxine burst into tears, and before she could answer him, Blake took a step forward and grabbed Charles by the lapels of his khaki suit and lifted him right off the ground.

  “That's my wife you're talking to, you uptight son of a bitch. And those are my children you just called brats! And let me tell you something, asshole. She wouldn't marry you on a fucking bet. You're not good enough to shine her shoes, so get your sorry ass out of our sight.” He threw Charles toward the door then, and Charles turned around and left at a dead run, as Maxine stared at Blake.

  “Shit, now what am I going to do?”

  “Did you want to marry him?” Blake asked her with a worried look, and she shook her head, although it almost killed her to do so.

  “No, I didn't. I figured that out last night.”

  “Not a minute too soon,” Blake said as the children suddenly cheered. It was the first time they had ever seen their dad in action, and they loved the way he had made Charles run away. As far as they were concerned, it was about time.

  “Well, that was an interesting start to the day,” Arthur Connors said, looking at his ex-son-in-law. “What do you all suggest we do now?” He didn't look sorry, just concerned.

  “Somebody has to tell everyone,” Maxine said, slowly sinking into an available chair, “that the wedding's been called off.” The children cheered again, and Zelda smiled. The baby hadn't made a peep, and was sound asleep. Maybe he just hadn't liked Charles.

  “It's a shame to waste a great dress like that,” Blake said, looking at her. “And the flowers looked terrific when I peeked into the church. What do you say we put them to good use?” And then he looked at her seriously and lowered his voice as he spoke to her, so no one else could hear. “I promise, this time I'll come home. I'm not as stupid as I was before. I'm bimbo'd out, Max.”

  “Good,” she said quietly, looking him in the eye. She knew he was telling her the truth, and this time he would come home. He might even stay home. He was still a rogue, and she loved that about him, but he had grown up. They both had. She no longer expected him to be anyone but Blake. And she had discovered that she loved who she was with him. They brought out the best in each other.

  “Max?” He shook as he asked her. It was twelve-thirty by then, and the wedding guests had been waiting for half an hour while the music played.

  “Yes.” She breathed the word, and he kissed her. It was what they had both wanted to do the night before. It had taken Charles to get them back together again. Charles was everything she should have wanted, but all she wanted, and all she had ever wanted, was Blake.

  “Let's go!” Blake said, springing into action, his hangover forgotten, and she was feeling better too. “Jack, you take Grandma down the aisle to the front pew. Sam, you take Zellie. Daffy, you come with me. Dad”—he looked at his father-in-law, and they exchanged a smile—“is this okay with you, by the way?” Not that it mattered to either of them, but he didn't want him to feel left out.

  “She would have died of boredom with the other guy,” Arthur said, smiling broadly at Blake, “and so would I,” he added, and Maxine laughed.

  “Give us five minutes, then you two come down the aisle.” The minister had already been out there, on the altar, for over half an hour, wondering what had happened.

  They all ran out the door then, and the guests watched them come down the aisle. They all recognized Blake, and were a little puzzled when he and Daphne took their places at the altar, and were joined by Sam and Jack a minute later. This was obviously a very liberal modern wedding with the ex-husband helping to give the bride away. The guests were impressed and a little startled. Zellie and their grandmother were seated, and Blake and his children stood at the altar, waiting for Maxine and her father to come down the aisle. And suddenly the music changed, and she was walking toward Blake with eyes only for him, while her father beamed. She never took her eyes off Blake as they looked at each other and all the years they had shared with each other, the good and the bad, telescoped into this one shining moment.

  The minister was watching them, and understood what had happened. Blake leaned over to talk to him and whispered that they didn't have a license.

  “We'll wing it today,” he whispered back. “Get a license on Monday, and we'll do it again privately. How does that sound to you?”

  “Perfect. Thank you,” Blake said respectfully, and then turned to look at his bride again. They had finally reached the altar. He and Arthur shook hands, and Arthur gave him a little pat on the arm, and whispered, “Welcome back.” Blake turned his full attention to Maxine then, and took his place beside her as their children watched. They could see that their mother had damp eyes, and their father did too.

  The minister turned to everyone then and looked at them solemnly. “Dearly beloved,” he began, “we are gathered here together today to join this man and this woman, and as I understand it, or from what I can figure out, they have been joined before”—he glanced at the children with a smile—“with very handsome results. And what I want you all to know is that when I perform a wedding ceremony, it sticks. So you won't be coming back here for another round.” He looked pointedly at Maxine and Blake, who were beaming at each other. “All right then, let's get on with it.

  “We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman …” All Maxine could see was Blake, and all he could see was her, and all they could hear was each other and the buzzing of their hangovers until they both said “I do,” kissed, and walked back down the aisle. And this time, not just the children and the minister, but everyone in the church cheered.

  It wasn't the wedding any of them had come for or anticipated, not even Maxine or Blake, but it was the wedding that was meant to be, the one that was their destiny. It w
as the marriage of two people who had always loved each other, and each, in their own way, had grown up at last. It was the perfect union between a delightful, lovable rogue and his very happy bride.

  Her father winked at them as they walked past him, down the aisle. Blake winked back, and Maxine laughed out loud.

  a cognizant original v5 release october 15 2010

  ROGUE

  A Delacorte Press Book / July 2008

  Published by Bantam Dell

  A Division of Random House, Inc.

  New York, New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either

  are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events,

  or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2008 by Danielle Steel

  Delacorte Press is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.,

  and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Steel, Danielle.

  Rogue / Danielle Steel.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-56677-5

  1. Divorced parents—Fiction. 2. Life change events—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3569.T33828R64 2008

  813′.54—dc22

  2007045763

  v3.0