by Mila Nicks
“Well…yes.”
“Brandy baby, we said we wouldn’t tell the girls ’til after the wedding.”
“I needed to vent! Who else was going to help me keep things together? Gigi is having meltdowns every other day. And you—you don’t know what seeing you ill does to me. It’s hardest on you, I know, but…but seeing you in pain isn’t easy on me either,” Mom said, eyes watering. “I get so worried, Tom. I told Juliette hoping she’d help.”
Dad comforted Mom, curling an arm around her shoulders, hushing her from a sob.
“We all wanted this week to be a perfect celebration. I know I did. I wanted to make this an unforgettable time for Gigi. I wanted for you to get your wish, Dad, and walk her down the aisle. I wanted you to feel like you wouldn’t need to worry about us in case…” Juliette paused for the swell of emotion rising up in her. She must’ve inherited Mom and Dad’s sentimental gene after all, because her nose sniffled and eyes itched. She didn’t give in, continuing instead. “So Preston, being the good guy and great friend he is, wanted to help.”
“But…I thought you said you’re dating?”
“We are. Now. As of…two days ago?” Juliette shared a smitten smile with Preston. “Turns out, faking an engagement made us realize we’re kind of good together.”
Mom used the cloth napkin to dab at her eyes. “I was convinced.”
“Everyone was,” Dad added. He hadn’t yet softened, still not won over, deep in skeptical dad mode. “It takes some talent to pull off a gimmick like that. Not everyone can lie so easily.”
“Dad—”
“Vice for the Atlanta Police Department, you say? Was that part true?” Dad asked Preston, dabbling in his own prosecutor background. Since early retirement, it was a side that rarely came out anymore as it worked up his heart troubles. “I bet going undercover as often as you have really helped you out this week.”
“Dad!” Juliette exclaimed a second time. Her heart sped as a frantic beat against her chest. He fell silent and stewed in his residual distrust. “Please don’t attack Preston. If you’re going to scold anyone, scold me. I’m your daughter—I’m the one who brought him here. He just wanted to help. He’s a great guy.”
“Like that jerk last night?”
“No. Preston is nothing like Winston. If you’d give him a chance, you’d see that.”
“Thomas,” Mom dragged out the pronunciation. “Look at him. He’s the same man who won us over from the get-go—the same man who you were gaga about going camping with less than twenty-four hours ago. I think it’s safe to say nobody’s innocent here. Like Juliette said, we all wanted to please each other, and perhaps went about it the wrong way.”
Dad yanked off his spectacles and used his cloth napkin to clean the glass. He offered no reply. Not yet. He was thinking.
“Mr. Lowry, I understand if you’ll never trust me again,” Preston spoke up at last. He ignored Juliette and Mom’s pointed stares and focused on Dad only. “You have every right to feel the way you do. You want what’s best for your daughter. I understand that because I also want what’s best for her. But, with all due respect, sir, what we want doesn’t matter. It’s what Juliette wants that matters above all else.”
If possible, Juliette would’ve swooned on the spot. She sat speechless for a second, appreciating the amazing partner she’d found in Preston. But he’d touched on a valid point that needed to be reiterated given the fake engagement debacle.
“That’s right, Dad. I will always value Mom’s and your opinion. But I’ve spent too long worrying about what you want for me versus what I want for myself. And I want Preston.”
She gave Preston a light kiss, leaning into him as lovebirds.
“Oh, good for you, honey!” Mom simpered.
Every gaze fell on Dad, in bated anticipation for his reaction. The tension stretched like an elastic band liable to snap into two. Finally, he hitched a struggling breath from his chest and fixed his glasses back onto his face. The ice from his dark brown eyes meted.
“Preston, I’m sorry if I’ve been harsh. I’m a laidback type of guy, but after last night…I was upset. First to find out about the fake engagement and then to have that fool Winston turn up. He had the gall to insult my daughter’s character.”
“I understand, Mr. Lowry.”
“I hope the shenanigans are water under the bridge. I’d like to move on.”
“Speaking of moving on, we need to get you ready for your doctor’s appointment. And we need to some water for you to take your pills.” Mom tossed her cloth napkin onto the half-eaten plate of egg whites and avocado toast.
Preston and Juliette waited until they were alone and then breathed collective sighs of relief. Juliette pecked him on the lips and apologized for the ordeal.
“It’s okay. I don’t blame your parents. They were confused and suspicious. Let’s hope your father is right—it’s all behind us now.”
“Wedding’s tomorrow.”
“It is, ain’t it? But what ‘bout today? What’s on the schedule?” Preston wiggled his brows at her, moving in to nuzzle her.
Juliette laughed airily. “Down, detective. We’ll have plenty of time for me and you.”
“But?”
“But I should go check on Gigi first. I haven’t seen her since last night with Dom.”
“Fair enough. I’ll be waiting right here where you left me.”
Juliette rose to leave the room, but Preston surprised her with a light spank on the ass. She squealed and gave him a playful shove before hurrying out of his reach. Though she sought Gigi to chat, her mind lingered on Preston and the fun to come later in bed.
It surprised Preston when none other than Dominic joined him on the terrace. His fake brother-in-law hadn’t taken much opportunity to get to know him or even speak to him at all. On the day he accompanied the guys to the golf course, Gigi’s fiancé was too wrapped up in the game and chatting with his friends. The beach bash the other day was better. The two exchanged a couple words about their strategy during the volleyball game against Team Bride.
Preston had nothing against the guy. He just didn’t know him.
“Mind?” Dominic asked.
Preston shook his head. “I’m out here wasting time.”
“Funny. Me too.” Dominic dropped into one of the lounge chairs and dug into his shorts pocket for a packet of cigarettes. He held up the box to Preston, but he refused. “I don’t usually smoke either. Quit years ago anyway. It isn’t exactly easy being a heart doctor if you’re smoking half a pack a day.”
“So why’ve you started again?”
“One word: wedding.”
“It’s stressful.”
“It’s worth it. I love Gigi and it’s what feels right. But if this week hasn’t been a test…I don’t know what is.”
“You and Gigi—you’ve patched things up?”
“I wasn’t myself, too caught up on background noise. She was having mood swings. We were arguing more than we’ve ever argued in the two years we’ve been together,” Dom answered, lighting his cigarette. “Turns out, Gigi’s pregnant.”
“Uh, yeah…that’s gotta be a surprise.”
Dom rubbed his brow, cigarette perched between his index and middle finger. “It’s definitely not planned. It’s some sort of rare malfunction from her birth control. When we started getting serious and the marriage topic floated around, we talked about kids.”
“I’m guessing you were thinking years down the line?” Preston prodded the conversation along, sensing Dom needed to vent. He wasn’t sure why the groom didn’t confide in his three close friends, but he decided that was none of his business.
“Gigi said she’d be willing to give me a child if that’s what I really wanted, but it wasn’t exactly her dream. The whole conversation ended on a ‘maybe’ note. I figured…after married life, eventually she’d change her mind and want a baby as much as I would.”
“And now?”
Dom blew smoke, staring at the oc
ean and early morning beach goers. “Last night she said the same thing. She confessed she was going to get rid of it, but couldn’t even go through with making the appointment before at least telling me. She...She said she’ll keep it if it’s what I want.”
Preston picked up on his hesitancy. Dominic dreaded feeling like he was forcing her into a life-long role she didn’t want. Far from experienced on the subject, Preston offered the only plausible advice he could.
“You’re gonna have to find a middle ground. Somehow.”
“I’m marrying her regardless. I told her that last night. I guess that’s our middle ground.”
“Then maybe you’ll figure it out together. You leave on your honeymoon in two days. That’s plenty of alone time to talk.”
Dom put out his cigarette. “You’re right. It’ll be easier alone—nobody else around.”
“And no wedding craziness.”
“Exactly. Thanks, Preston. You know, I wasn’t so sure about you, but…you’re alright.”
Preston tilted his head. “Is that why you haven’t said much?”
“Guilty.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Honestly? I saw Natasia and you flirting on the first night.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I know that now. She’s…She’s always been a thorn in everyone’s side. I’ve tried to get her fired more times than I can count. But her father befriended mine,” Dom said cryptically. “I guess I thought that maybe…you’d take the bait.”
“Never.”
“I’ll see you later. Gigi and I have some final arrangements to take care of and then we’re doing a boat tour together.”
Preston grinned, thinking fondly about yesterday. “You’ll be in good hands.
Juliette tapped on the door to Gigi and Dominic’s room. Gigi had gradually accepted her changing body shape, wearing looser attire like maxi dresses and tunics. The switch up amused Juliette because it was classic overdramatic Gigi. A small bump and ten pound weight gain had her embracing maternity style.
“Nice dress.”
Gigi was at the vanity, applying moisturizer. She paused for a glance down her front and smiled. “I have to dress for my new figure, don’t I?”
“Gigi, you look like you have a little bloat going on. You’re not seven months pregnant.”
“It’s more comfortable this way.”
Juliette walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. “So you’re keeping it.”
“I…I didn’t say that. Dom and I talked and we agreed we’ll find a way to compromise.”
“It’s good you guys recognize that’s what needs to happen. You know what Mom always says: marriage is partnership of compromises.”
“I don’t know, Jules. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. The more I do think about it…this baby is Dom and me. It’s something we created together. Yeah, it was by accident, but…sometimes the best things in life are surprises, right?”
“That’s true. Just remember, it’s what you want, Gigi.”
Her baby sister smiled into the mirror, rubbing cream into her brown skin. “That’s what Dom said.”
“And the wedding?”
“I was freaking out for nothing. A day from now I’m going to be Mrs. Giselle Brosman.”
“That’s great! I can’t wait.”
“Me neither.”
Juliette exhaled, grateful for the rocks in the road being discarded. “It looks like everything is going to work out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the engagement? I would’ve kept your secret.”
“You’ve been stressed. This week is about you.”
“I didn’t like that Winston guy.”
“Good because he’s an asshole.”
“But I do like Preston.” Gigi shifted on the vanity stool and winked at her.
“Also good. Because he’s sticking around.”
“I think he’s it, Jules. I think he’s your guy.”
Why did any mention of Preston make her smile like an idiot? She enjoyed the involuntary reaction though. If she had to go giddy about anyone, Preston was who she wanted it to be.
“You’ll see,” Gigi continued, laughing. “I’m going to aim for you during the bouquet toss. You wait and see.”
Preston grew bored sitting on the terrace. It didn’t surprise him that Juliette took a while speaking to Gigi. The sisters could talk for hours. He rose from his chair on the terrace and ventured inside. He figured it couldn’t hurt to grab a quick snack from the kitchen. The light breakfast of fruit and egg whites wasn’t what he considered a full meal.
Mr. and Mrs. Brosman insisted that any guest in their home utilize the staff for personal requests. That concept made a regular guy like Preston uncomfortable. He didn’t need staff to pour him a glass of water or to throw away his trash. He was able-bodied and capable of doing those things himself.
He closed in on the immaculate white and silver kitchen, but stopped footsteps outside. He picked up on two voices engaged in a squabbling back-and-forth.
“You’ve gotta stop it, Natasia,” Trey grumbled. “You crossed the line a long time ago. You’re lucky you’ve got away with this much. When’s enough enough?”
“I haven’t made anyone do anything they didn’t want.”
Tyrese’s sigh was heavy. “Is that what Bob used to tell you?”
“You love judging me! Everyone does. Move. Get out of my way.”
“Not ’til you tell me it’s done. You’re not gonna continue to do this.”
“Move!”
The brother and sister row abruptly ended. Natasia's footsteps clacked against the kitchen tile and Tyrese’s sonically heftier ones followed her out. Preston flattened himself against the wall, grateful for the fact that both sharply turned left and not right.
In the kitchen, he pulled open the refrigerator and checked for leftovers from last night’s dinner. His stomach howled in disappointment. The pantry nearby called to him next. He opened the cabinet door and surveyed the shelves stocked with a variety of options. A small ham sandwich would be simple enough to sate his whining stomach.
Preston grabbed the loaf of bread in one hand. He turned around to shut the pantry door, only to falter half a step back. Natasia must’ve snuck back into the kitchen. She stood directly behind him. The shock of her suddenly there furrowed his brow and he started to tell her to back away from him, but she cut him off. Thrusting herself into his arms, she stole a hard kiss on the mouth. Preston stumbled another step back, utterly caught off guard. What the fuck was she doing?
“Brandy baby, I’m going to grab a quick glass of water for the medi—”
Mr. Lowry's pill bottle crashed to the kitchen floor. The dozen of little pills spilled out and scattered across the floor. He stood stiller than a stone, his face stricken by the horror before him.
Preston shoved Natasia off of him with enough force that she fell backwards against the kitchen counter. His heart thundered, angry and confused and shocked all at once. He wiped his mouth in disgust and launched into explanation.
“That wasn’t what it looked like. She ambushed me just now before you walked in.”
Mr. Lowry hadn’t moved, his paralysis increasingly more alarming. He said nothing, foregoing blinks, face frozen in permanent shock, and then it occurred to Preston he was in pain.
“Are you alright?”
He rushed forward to help him, but Mr. Lowry's legs gave out. He toppled onto the tiles, landing on his side. His rigid body lay exactly as he’d fallen. He mustered enough strength to lift his hand and clutch his heart.
“911,” he croaked on dry lips.
Preston dropped to his knees beside him and speedily dialed the three digits on his cell phone.
“Oh my god, Thomas!”
Mrs. Lowry's shriek filled the entire beach house from ground floor to the top. In seconds everyone in the house crowded the kitchen in a panic and listened to the distant sirens grow closer. Preston hung back, still shocked by the or
deal, pulse reverberating in his ears. His eyes shot to the back of the kitchen where Natasia had drifted, unnoticed due to the emergency in progress. The curly-haired staff member watched the traumatic scene unfold. Sensing his hard glare from across the room, she looked right at him and smirked.
14
“I’m sorry, sir. Immediate family only.”
The paramedic pushed a hand to Preston's chest, holding him back. His partner slammed shut the ambulance doors and hurried to climb behind the wheel. Preston craned his neck around the paramedic in front of him for a look into the ambulance.
“My fiancée’s father—”
“Immediate family only. Please move out of the way.”
Preston stumbled back as the whirring ambulance left the curb. The ambulance, one of eight emergency vehicles on Paradise Keys, squeezed itself down the narrow, winding road. Soon it disappeared out of sight, hauling Mr. Lowry off to the hospital. Juliette and her Mother had managed to pile inside during the fracas.
The sirens faded and a somber silence took its place. Preston scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He couldn’t stop replaying Mr. Lowry dropping to the kitchen floor. His emotions were scattered, bouncing between sinking dread and panging guilt. In reality he’d done nothing wrong but wander into the kitchen pantry for a snack. That didn’t change his role in the emergency. If he’d never been there, Natasia wouldn’t have walked up on him, and Juliette's Father wouldn’t be loaded in an ambulance headed for the E.R. right now.
“D’you think he’ll be okay?” Lee Huang asked, at his side suddenly. He peered down the same street as if waiting for a verdict then and there.
Preston sighed again. “Dunno. Hope so.”
“Gigi and Dom don’t even know yet. None of us have been able to get a hold of them. They went on that boat tour so they must be on the water.”
The speculation fell on deaf ears. Preston continued to rub his face, more frustrated than he could put into words. He wanted to be there with Juliette and to do anything he could helping her family. Another half of him was tempted to storm into the Brosman beach house and confront Natasia in front of everyone.