Hollywood Wedding

by Sandra Marton

  He shoved the dog off him and got shakily to his feet. The thing he’d stepped on was glaring at him from the living room through yellow, feline eyes.

  “Hell,” Zach muttered.

  It was quite a welcoming committee. A crazy dog and an insane cat.

  A cat? A dog? Here, in a place where dust feared to settle?

  Zach gave an unsteady laugh. Either he’d lost his mind or he was in the wrong apartment.

  “What in hell’s going on here?”

  It wasn’t the wrong place, Zach thought in amazement. There was Grant, coming down the stairs, wearing a scowl and a pair of blue pajama bottoms. And coming down the steps just behind him was a woman, her hand on his shoulder, wearing the pajama top.

  A gorgeous woman.

  “Zach?” A grin spread over Grant’s face. “Zach,” he repeated with delight, then turned to the woman. “Honey? Sweetheart, it’s my brother.”

  Honey? Sweetheart?

  Two Bloody Marys on the plane, Zach thought, that was all I had. Just two. Maybe three. Not enough to cause hallucinations.

  Grant hurried toward him and clasped him by the shoulders.

  “Hey, man, what a great surprise. How the heck are you?”

  Zach looked down at himself. There was a tear in his Brooks Brothers jacket, a layer of cat fur on his chinos, and his chin felt as if it had been rubbed raw.

  He laughed, something he’d never imagined doing again.

  “I’m fine, considering that I’ve just been taken apart by a pair of bloodthirsty killers.”

  “Right.” Grant laughed and turned to the woman, who was standing a few feet away, smiling hesitantly. “You hear that, darling? Annie and Sweetness just claimed their first victim.”

  The woman laughed. She had a sweet, musical voice. And she certainly was an eyeful, even in Grant’s oversize pajama top. She had long black hair, violet eyes…She was lovely.

  But not as lovely as Eve.

  Zach cleared his throat. “Listen,” he said, “I can see I’ve come at a bad time. So I’ll collect my things and——”

  Grant punched Zach lightly in the arm. “Stop being a fool,” he said gruffly. “You’re always welcome here. Anyway, I’m glad you guys have the chance to finally meet.”

  He smiled at the woman and held out his hand. She came toward him with an answering smile that made Zach’s throat tighten.

  “Zach,” Grant said. He cleared his throat as the woman took his hand. “Zach, this is Crista Adams. She and I are going to be married.”

  * * *

  A couple of hours later, after a terrific meal and some delightful conversation with the woman who was going to become his sister-in-law, Zach was standing on the terrace, a snifter of brandy in his hand.

  It was chilly, but the view of Central Park lit up like a child’s toy was spectacular.

  The brothers were alone. Crista had excused herself and gone off upstairs, the dog at her heels and the cat in her arms.

  “We have to be careful with the cat,” Grant had said with a frown so serious Zach had almost cackled. “She’s still not used to the terrace.”

  Now, Zach took another sip of brandy, looked at his brother and smiled.

  “Well, you’ve certainly changed since the last time I saw you.”

  “Yeah, I guess I have. So have you, but not for the better.”

  Zach forced a smile to his lips. “I see you haven’t changed entirely, pal. You’re still about as subtle as a Sherman tank.”

  “I figure a man who’s spent all this time on the Coast should have come back sporting a tan and a smile.”

  Zach shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been too busy to work on a tan.”

  “Yeah, but a smile doesn’t need any work at all.”

  Zach’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you trying to make a point?”

  “Only that you look terrible. And that I’d like to know the reason.”

  “Does there have to be a reason?” Zach said testily.

  Grant shrugged. “For most people, yes.” He took a swallow of his brandy. “Want to talk about it?”

  Zach glared at him. “No,” he said.

  But he talked anyway. He said he’d gone out to California knowing what to expect. That he’d found just what he’d expected. That it hadn’t kept him from making an absolute ass of himself anyway.

  Grant kept nodding his head, saying, “Is that right?” and, “Uh-huh,” and other brilliant things that meant nothing whenever Zach paused for breath. He didn’t know what else to say. The problem was that for all his talking, his younger brother wasn’t making a heck of a lot of sense.

  He said a woman named Eve Palmer had wormed herself into a job she wasn’t equipped for. Then he said she was the only person who could have done the job as well.

  Bewildered, Grant tried to tell him that didn’t make sense, but Zach was already off on another tangent, one that seemed to have no connection to the first, and this one turned out to be a shocker.

  “My ex-wife was a bitch,” he said bitterly. “Did you know that?”

  “Well,” Grant said, but Zach was already off and running.

  He said his ex-wife had not just been coldhearted and conniving; he said she’d been unfaithful.

  Grant was amazed, not by the antics of the former Mrs. Zachary Landon but by his brother’s willingness to talk about them.

  He and Cade had suspected what she was. But Zach had been married to her, and without proof, it had seemed wiser not to say anything.

  Grant started to say as much, thought better of it and frowned when Zach switched back to talking about Eve Palmer.

  “Man,” he said, “I tell you, this broad’s the worst piece of news you ever saw.”

  Grant stirred uneasily. Zach was looking at him. Was he supposed to make a comment?

  “Ah, well,” he said quickly, “no wonder Triad was in trouble.”

  Zach glared at him. “I just told you, she knows her stuff.”

  Grant nodded and cast a surreptitious glance into the living room. Where was Crista? She was a woman. Maybe she could figure out what in hell was going on here.

  “She did give me a hard time, at first. Thought I was a bean counter.”

  Grant snorted. “You? A bean counter? I hope you set her straight.”

  “I did.” Zach puffed out his breath. “What it comes to is, I made a mess of it.”

  The brothers’ eyes met. Damn, Grant thought miserably, he’s waiting for me to say something again…

  “So,” he said briskly, and got to his feet, “you made a mess out of telling this Palmer woman you weren’t an accountant, and she became, ah, difficult to deal with?”

  “Difficult to deal with might as well be her middle name,” Zach grumbled.

  Grant gave a deep sigh. “Listen, I’m trying to be helpful but I have to be honest, Zach, I can’t be if you don’t tell me what the hell was going on. I don’t understand. Why was she such a bad piece of news? What was the problem? Why are you so upset?”

  Zach looked at Grant. Half a dozen answers popped into his head.

  Oh, hell, he thought. He swallowed the last of his brandy, put the glass down and told the truth.

  “Because I fell in love with her,” he said.

  The words hung between the men, as sharp as the autumn air. Grant reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

  “Okay,” he said. “That says it all.”

  “No!” Zach slammed his fist against the railing. “Dammit, you don’t understand! I loved her, but she didn’t love me.”

  Grant sighed. “She broke things off when you told her you loved her?”

  “No.” Zach’s mouth turned down. “I never told her.”

  “You never——”

  “No, and it’s a damned good thing I didn’t.” His jaw knotted. “I——I found her with another man.”

  “Hell.” Grant’s heart went out to his brother. It wasn’t fair, he thought. He and Cade had both found happiness. Why shouldn’t Za
ch? “Listen, if that’s the kind of bitch she is——”

  In an instant, Grant found himself standing on his toes, nose to nose with Zach, who was holding him by the front of his shirt and glaring at him as if he wanted to kill him.

  “Don’t call her that,” Zach said through his teeth.

  The brothers stared at each other, and then Grant began to laugh. After a couple of seconds, Zach laughed, too. He let go of Grant’s shirt, smoothed the wrinkles and grinned.

  “Sorry.”

  “Think nothing of it, pal.” Grant punched him lightly in the arm. “It just proves that some things never change. You’ve still got the disposition of a bad-tempered rhino.”

  “Yeah.” Zach’s smile faded. “Man, oh, man,” he muttered, “I am a mess, aren’t I?”

  “You’re in love, you jerk.”

  “No.” Zach shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “Trust me,” Grant said dryly. “You’ve got all the symptoms.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, are you sure you, ah, you found her with some guy? I mean, sometimes what looks like one thing really is another.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much what she said.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Zach sighed. “She claimed the guy was forcing himself on her, but——”

  “But?”

  “But, I’d seen her give this guy the come-on before. Look, it’s a long story but the bottom line is that she’s one of those dames who trades. You know, this for that.”

  “Like your ex.”

  “Yes. No. Eve is—oh, hell, she’s nothing like my ex. Eve is gentle and sweet. But tough. I mean, she’s a strong woman, inside, where it counts. And she’s so beautiful…” Zach groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “I think I’ve gone nuts.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Grant said slowly. “She’s gentle. Sweet. Strong inside. Am I right so far?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Stay with me, Okay? She’s all these things, plus beautiful. And you fell in love with her. You’re still in love with her—and yet you didn’t believe her when she said she wasn’t screwing around with some other guy?”

  “Grant, you’re making it sound so simple but I tell you, I saw her!”

  “Did you?” Grant’s eyes met Zach’s. “Or did you see only what you expected to see?”

  Zach’s brows drew together. “And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” Grant said gruffly, “that you’re as big a fool as Cade and me. It means not a one of us had the brains to figure out that the real Landon legacy wasn’t Landon Enterprises at all.”

  “Listen, man, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Grant sighed. “Sure you do. You just haven’t faced it yet.”

  “Look, thanks for trying to help me, but——”

  “Some fathers teach their sons to play ball or to fish, but the lesson we got from ours cut a lot deeper.” Grant’s mouth thinned. “The old man taught us never to believe in anybody or anything—especially love.”

  “Come on, Grant. Maybe that goes for you and Cade, but not me. I was the only one of us who got married, remember?”

  Grant folded his arms over his chest. “And look at the woman you chose,” he said grimly. “A wonderful example of femininity, if ever there was one.”

  “So I made a mistake. But I corrected it.”

  “You damned fool,” Grant snapped, “Cade and I suspected it the first time we met her. She was all wrong for you. There was never a chance in a billion your marriage could have worked.”

  Zach’s face whitened with anger. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because suspicion is not proof,” Grant said calmly, “because we loved you too much to hurt you, and because we hoped to hell we were wrong, that’s why.” His eyes narrowed. “And because you wouldn’t have listened. You’ve always been the most hot-tempered, pigheaded idiot imaginable.”

  The brothers glowered at each other for a moment, and then Zach gave a choked laugh.

  “You sound like her,” he said.

  “Eve?”

  “Yes. She called me pigheaded, too.”

  Grant smiled. “I like the lady already.”

  “Yes. You would like her. Would have, I mean. I mean, you’d have been fooled, same as me. You’d have thought she was everything wonderful, everything a man could want…”

  There was a long, terrible silence, and then Zach groaned and sank down into a wicker chair.

  “I failed her,” he said brokenly. “She loved me, she needed me, and I failed her.”

  Grant looked at his brother’s stricken face. “Then go to her,” he said softly.

  “I can’t. She won’t want to see me. She told me never to come back.”

  Grant’s hand tightened on Zach’s shoulder. “Go to her,” he said. “Tell her you love her. Put your heart on the line.” He smiled. “Isn’t it worth the risk?”

  Zach looked up. “It’ll be the worst risk I’ve ever taken,” he said softly. “If I lose her…”

  Grant put out his right hand, palm up. “Deadeye Defenders never lose,” he said.

  A slow smile eased across Zach’s lips. He rose, clasped Grant’s hand. The brothers looked at each other and then they embraced.

  “Good luck,” Grant called, as Zach hurried from the terrace.

  * * *

  Eve sat in her kitchen, drinking the worst coffee anyone had ever made, but she couldn’t complain since she had made it.

  She sighed. Apparently she’d lost count of how many measures of coffee she’d put into the pot. Not that it mattered. The stuff was hot and maybe the caffeine would jolt her into some kind of functional behavior.

  Not that she had any reason to be functional. Today was Sunday. The fact that she’d paced the floor most of the night, that she hadn’t slept in hours, wouldn’t matter. She could just sit here and pretend to read the newspapers all day, and nobody would know the difference.

  Except she didn’t really want to read. Or drink this coffee. Or do much of anything.

  With a sigh, she put down her cup, let the paper fall to the floor and got to her feet.

  No matter how she tried, she kept thinking about what had happened Friday night. For all she knew, she would never stop thinking about it.

  Not about Dex. He was exactly what Zach had called him, a piece of maggot meat, and she was only sorry she hadn’t gotten the chance to clobber him with a shoe, but he wasn’t worth thinking about any more.

  It was Zach who haunted her thoughts, Zach and what a fool she’d made of herself over him.

  She had loved him. Loved him desperately, even let herself begin to think—to hope—that he loved her, too.

  Her throat constricted. Oh, yes. Yes, Zach had really loved her, so much that when she’d needed him most, he’d abandoned her.

  She’d been fine, right after it had happened, so enraged and filled with righteous indignation that she’d let it out everywhere, even on Mrs. Harmon.

  Remembering, she had to smile at how she’d banged on the old woman’s door.

  “Where were you when I needed you?” she’d demanded.

  She’d let the anger out in more useful ways, too, first cleaning all traces of Dex from the apartment, then scrubbing herself—again—until her skin felt raw, finally collapsing onto the sofa and tumbling into exhausted sleep.

  And that was when the worst ache of her life had replaced the anger. She’d dreamed, dreamed of Zach, and wasn’t that pathetic? Dreamed that he’d come back, that he’d pleaded for her to love him, that he’d begged her to understand that he’d been wrong and she’d gone into his arms…

  The doorbell rang. Eve didn’t bother moving. Whoever it was would go away. The bell rang again.

  “There’s nobody home,” she called.

  Silence. After a moment, she sighed, sat down at the table and put her head in her arms.

  It was ridiculous to sit here and feel sorry for herself. Zac
h wasn’t worth it. She knew that now. She’d known it all the time.

  The phone rang. She ignored it. The answering machine would take the call. She heard the ringing stop, heard the distant sound of her own recorded message.

  “Eve? Eve, it’s Zach. Please, please, pick up the phone.”

  Eve shot to her feet and raced to the machine.

  “Eve, please. Talk to me.”

  “No,” she whispered. But Zach couldn’t hear her; only the machine was listening. “No,” she repeated, and stabbed out her hand to silence his voice.

  “Darling Eve, I love you.”

  A sob rose in her throat. There they were, the words she’d longed to hear. But they’d come too late.

  “There’s so much I should have told you, Eve.”

  What could he possibly tell her that would take away the pain?

  “Sweetheart, I never knew what love meant, until you came into my life.”

  “It’s too late,” she whispered to the machine.

  “You came into my life, darling, and I—I was terrified.” Zach’s laughter was harsh and bitter. “Me, the guy who’d spent his life looking for risks…I took one look at you and I was afraid, because—because I knew, in my heart, that to admit the truth, that I’d fallen in love with you, that I needed you, would strip my soul bare.”

  Tears spilled down Eve’s cheeks, but she didn’t move. If only it had been true. Oh, if only…

  “Darling.” She heard the sharp intake of his breath. “I’m at the corner, at that funny little place where we had that awful breakfast, remember? Meet me there. Let me take you in my arms and tell you how much I adore you.”

  Eve turned away, her hands at her lips. Zach, she thought, Zach, how can I believe you?

  “Let me take you in my arms and ask you to be my wife, Eve. Do you hear me? Eve, please! Tell me you’ll marry me, tell me you love me…”

  Laughter and sobs broke from Eve’s lips. She grabbed the phone and put it to her ear.

  “Of course, I love you,” she said in a choked voice. “I’ve loved you since you tried to kill Horace the Wonder Horse!”

  In a phone booth down the street, Zach closed his eyes, breathed a prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening, and smiled.