Runner-Up Bride

by Lisa Bingham

  She bit off half of the pill, replaced the remaining portion in her mother’s purse, then grabbed a partially full bottle of champagne and swigged straight from the bottle.

  Riley eyed her with concern, then asked, “Dannette, have you been drinking?”

  “Yes!” Dannette responded with evident joy. “I had a couple of martinis while I was waiting for all the flights to come in.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to take a Valium on top of the alcohol?”

  “It’s the only way to cope with my mother,” Dannette whispered confidentially. “She’s incredibly critical and always pessimistic, but she coats her sourness in this honey-pie southern sweetness until a person could drown in the goo.”

  She sagged against the counter. “Then there’s my cousins, Misses Perfection, Superiority and Supremacy. I wouldn’t have invited them at all, but my mother insisted they would be devastated if I didn’t ask them to be bridesmaids. Added to that are my old sorority sisters. I’m honestly glad to see them, but my good hell, when did they get to be so stuffy!”

  Riley’s eyes widened even more at Dannette’s language.

  “Maybe you’d better sit down,” she suggested.

  “No, no.” Dannette took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m fine. Really.” Her grin was slightly sloppy. “As a matter of fact, I’m feeling better by the minute.”

  She suddenly gripped Riley’s shoulders. “Thank you, Riley,” she stated, as if she were a general complimenting one of her soldiers. “Thanks ever so much for the party. I know it was a burden, but I truly appreciate all you’ve done.”

  Riley had no response, so she said instead, “Why don’t you head back to the party? You can open your presents.”

  Dannette’s expression immediately brightened. “Presents! I love presents!”

  She returned to the main room and Riley followed, knowing that she would have to watch Dannette closely for the rest of the evening. Guilt was bubbling from her soul, and she was wishing that she hadn’t spiked the punch—or at the very least that she’d managed to cancel the stripper.

  “Is this the party?” a deep voice inquired, and Riley looked up. A stranger stood in the doorway.

  A very tall stranger.

  A very muscular stranger.

  A blond Adonis clad in leather biker pants and a fringed jacket. His hands, covered with studded gloves, held a balloon bouquet and an enormous boom box.

  He glanced around the room and said, “Delivery for Dannette MarquisDunne.”

  “No, oh, no.” Riley hurried to interrupt.

  But her protestations were too late. Dannette was already waving at the man, calling, “That’s me! I’m Dannette.”

  The stranger handed her the balloons and placed the boom box on the floor.

  “Then this is for you.”

  The strains of Aaron Copland’s “Ode to the Common Man” thundered in the small space, growing louder and louder as the man’s hips began to swivel.

  Riley sagged against the wall, watching in horror, knowing she couldn’t stop what was about to happen as the music reached an earsplitting crescendo. Mighty Adonis whipped his jacket from his shoulders, tore the cotton tank top from his chest, then stripped a pair of breakaway leather pants from his hips to display a very well endowed form clad in a minuscule bikini.

  “Allll riiight,” Dannette drawled in obvious enjoyment as she let go of the balloons and began to dance with the stripper.

  ALEX RUBBED the ache in his neck, stepping out of the elevator onto the appropriate floor. He’d been looking forward to having the evening to himself. The Bulls were in the play-offs, and the second game of the series was scheduled for tonight. He’d been looking forward to watching the competition with James, downing a couple of beers and munching on a bowl of pretzels. But after retrieving his messages, he’d been summoned to his offices instead.

  Oh, well, he thought fatalistically. At the very least, his curiosity about the bridal shower would be satisfied. Since discovering that Riley had been put in charge of the event, he’d been wondering what sort of entertainment she would devise—especially considering Dannette’s conservative background. No doubt the women were poised on the edge of their seats, sipping tea and looking a bit shocked at some diversion Riley had concocted.

  He heard the music as soon as he rounded the corner and headed in the direction of the boardroom. His brow creased in confusion. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d interrupted some barroom spectacle.

  Alex opened the door, stopping short.

  What the hell?

  In front of him a half dozen women were whooping and hollering, crowded close around a gyrating, longhaired, muscled stranger who wore little more than a leather G-string and a fine layer of baby oil.

  “Oh, baby, take it off! Take it all off.”

  Alex couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped as his formally conservative, ever-proper bride-to-be did her best to tuck folded dollar bills into the elastic stretched over the man’s taut hips. She twined herself around the stranger, her hands cupping his buttocks.

  “Dance with me, baby. Dance!”

  Automatically, Alex began looking for Riley, finding her leaning against the wall leading to the kitchen, a thin carrot stick jutting from her lips like a bright orange cigar. As soon as she caught his gaze, she flushed and straightened.

  He closed the distance in a half dozen strides, garnering little or no attention from the women gathered around the stripper.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he muttered.

  She shrugged, removing the carrot. “The evening’s entertainment.”

  “You hired a stripper?”

  “At the time I made the arrangements, I thought it would be a good idea.”

  “A good idea!” he repeated incredulously. “Don’t you realize these are my future in-laws?”

  “I’m very aware of that fact. Dannette introduced them all. Faith, Hope, Charity. Snuffy, Fluffy, Fifi, Mickey…”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “Her friends. Her sorority friends. I can’t really remember their names, but they all have the same sort of feel when you say them out loud.”

  Alex squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at the ache intensifying in his head. “Do you mean to tell me the women from Dannette’s college are here, as well?”

  “Sure. Mount Holy Water…Mount Holy Acre…Mount Holy…whatever it was. They seem to be having a good time.”

  “A good time!”

  “You’re repeating yourself, Alex.”

  “I have to in order to believe what I’m hearing.”

  Her grin was positively wicked. “I’d say seeing is believing in this case.”

  He looked at the gaggle surrounding the stripper, noting that Dannette had hooked her fingers around the cords of the man’s G-string.

  “Riley,” he scolded under his breath, clearly irked by the whole situation, “what were you thinking? Mabel MarquisDunne is here—my future mother-in-law, for heaven’s sake.”

  “I know.” Riley chuckled as if she’d already anticipated such a protest. “Have you met her yet?”

  “No.”

  Riley’s eyes snapped with delight. “She’s the one digging through her purse for more bills.”

  IT WASN’T UNTIL the party had ended and Dannette’s guests had been ferried to their hotel that Alex was able to question Riley the way he’d wanted to all evening.

  “What in the world possessed you to hire a stripper?” Alex asked, as he drove through the darkened streets of Chicago.

  “Now, Alexsh, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Dannette proclaimed, leaning forward from her place in the back seat, and resting her head on her arms. “I had a wonnnerful time. Wonnnerful, wonnnerful.”

  Alex shot Riley a pithy look, one that clearly placed the blame for the whole predicament at Riley’s doorstep.

  Riley merely shrugged and grinned.

  “I’ve never seen Mother so relaxed before.” Dannett
e sighed. Then she flopped backward and began to make a daisy chain with the colored ribbons from her packages.

  “I don’t see why you’re still complaining about the evening’s events, Alex,” Riley said under her breath. “It’s obvious your fiancée had a wonderful time.”

  “How can she tell? She’s completely snockered. I’m sure you had a hand in that situation, too.”

  “I did not. Not much, anyhow.”

  “There must have been something in that punch besides punch. Her relatives were awfully…”

  “Relaxed,” she supplied, obviously pleased with herself.

  “And you had something to do with it.”

  “I added some champagne.”

  “How much?”

  “Half juice, half champagne.”

  “What else?”

  He knew by her expression that she’d hoped he wouldn’t press for more details.

  “Some vodka, a little gin and a splash of bourbon.”

  “What!”

  From the back seat came a soft snore. In the rearview mirror, Alex saw that Dannette had either passed out or fallen asleep.

  “I needed something to help loosen things up. One look at Dannette’s family and I knew I had to cancel the stripper, but nobody answered at the shop. So I tried calling you and got the machine, then Dannette started popping Valium and swigging out of the bottle, the stripper showed up, and Mrs. MarquisDunne started asking for dollar bills…”

  Pulling to the curb in front of Dannette’s apartment complex, Alex interrupted the disjointed explanation by stepping out of the car and lifting Dannette into his arms.

  As quickly as he could, he explained the situation to the doorman, carried Dannette to her apartment and into the bedroom. He removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket.

  Within minutes, he’d returned to the car.

  “That didn’t take long,” Riley commented as he slid behind the wheel.

  “The doorman let me into her apartment. Considering her state, I didn’t think it was wise to stay any longer than necessary and inspire gossip.”

  “How very chivalrous. Funny thing but you never worried about my reputation with your building’s doorman.”

  Alex gripped the wheel more tightly. He considered a lighthearted quip but decided to offer the truth. “That’s because, until lately, I never really considered tarnishing your reputation by making any sort of a sexual proposition, and everyone knew it.”

  A tension-fraught silence hummed in the small confines of the car.

  “But you think about it now?” she prodded.

  “Yes.”

  She pondered his confession, then said, “You can’t.”

  “I know that, but knowing I shouldn’t touch you doesn’t seem to help stop the wanting.”

  “Then maybe I should move out.”

  Alex knew her suggestion was sound—just as he knew he should accept her offer. But when he thought of spending the next few nights alone, without Riley’s laundry cluttering his bathroom and her cameras dotting the landscape of his apartment, he felt the impossible urge to keep things the same.

  “No. Stay.”

  “Thank heavens. You know how I hate hotels,” she said, giving him an impish grin.

  His own mouth quirked in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that’s the reason you want to stay, Riley. I prefer to believe you can’t tear yourself away from my fascinating personality.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she retorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Mr. Modesty. Then maybe we’ll both start to believe it.”

  9

  A VERY PALE and hungover Dannette stepped into the future chocolate shop late the next afternoon. As soon as Alex saw her, he refrained from pounding the wallboard he’d been nailing into place, but only Riley noted the way his lips twitched with laughter.

  “Riley,” Dannette said weakly, pressing her fingers to her temples. “I wanted to come in person this morning to thank you for yesterday’s shower.”

  There was no sarcasm in Dannette’s voice, but that didn’t stop Riley from studying Dannette closely to search for any hint of anger. Dannette should have been furious at the outcome of the event, demanding an apology for Riley’s poor judgment.

  “Dannette, I—” Riley began automatically, but Dannette stopped her with a wave of her hand.

  “I had a wonderful time.” When Riley searched for some sort of answer, Dannette insisted, “Really. I did. And I want to thank you for the stripper, as well.”

  Alex, who had reached for a bottle of water to quench his thirst, choked, and Dannette shot him a wry smile.

  “I know it may sound strange to admit, but I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life. No one has ever consciously affirmed that they believe me to be a sexual creature with an ability to walk on the wild side.” She sighed. “Do you know what the rest of my guests gave me? Bubble bath and kitchen accessories. I have nine bottles of bubble bath, a blender, a toaster, a griddle and a boatload of towels. Not one naughty nightie, not one ribald book, not one bawdy magazine from the people who should know me best.”

  She blinked, and Riley wondered if the woman was on the verge of tears.

  “Thank you, Riley, for making me realize that I’m not as dull as everyone believes me to be.” She took a deep breath and straightened. “I also want to apologize for my behavior when you first arrived in Chicago.”

  “Now, Dannette—” Alex interrupted, but she waved him into silence.

  “When I discovered Alex’s best friend was a woman, I was very snobbish and sulky, and I apologize for that. I want you to know that I consider you to be a very dear friend, and I hope you’ll feel free to visit Alex and me as often and as long as possible.”

  She waited for Riley’s response, but Riley had no idea what to say. How could she tell this woman that there would be no long visits to their home? Riley couldn’t share the same roof with the two of them-not without going stark raving mad.

  When she didn’t speak, Dannette continued, “As a sort of thank-you, I’d like to have you join me tomorrow, Riley. I’ve got something special planned for us.”

  Riley briefly wondered if Dannette had somehow caught on to the tension that filled the room whenever the three of them were together. Was this some sort of ambush?

  But no. There was no guile in Dannette’s tone, only an honest effort to please.

  “I’d like that,” Riley finally forced out between stiff lips.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at noon. Wear something loose and casual.”

  “JUST A HALF BLOCK MORE,” Dannette announced the next day, her eyes alight with excitement as she plowed through the pedestrian traffic like a tugboat moving upstream.

  Riley tried to release Dannette’s grip on her arm so she didn’t appear like a recalcitrant child being dragged down the sidewalk by her nanny, but Dannette wouldn’t budge.

  “You really don’t owe me anything, Dannette. I—”

  “Nonsense. With the wedding the day after tomorrow, I’ve decided to bring you with me for a session of beauty.”

  The words were uttered at the same time Riley caught sight of the door in front of them. A blazing neon green door with the words Monsieur Armand’s written in an elegant script.

  “Oh, no,” Riley said, realizing that Dannette meant her to go in there. A beauty shop. Riley didn’t do beauty shops. “No, I really don’t—”

  “Come on,” Dannette urged. “I’ve decided to cut my hair in a different style, and I want your opinion.”

  The statement shocked Riley. Somehow she’d always associated Dannette with the smooth dark hair she invariably swept into a chignon or held with a loose clip.

  “You can’t be serious,” Riley breathed. “So close to your wedding?” She found it difficult to believe that the calm, cautious Dannette was willing to take such a big risk with her appearance on the eve of her carefully planned nuptials.

  “Yes. I’m tired of having long hair. I’ve had long hair for years now. I�
�m ready for a change.”

  Riley didn’t know what to say, and because she didn’t know what else to do, she allowed herself to be dragged into the salon.

  The interior was par to being sucked into a bottle of mint-flavored milk of magnesia. A pale green carpet swept to pale green walls. There were several pale green sofas fronted by gilt tables holding mint green flowers.

  “Oh, my,” Riley muttered under her breath, sure that she’d crossed the threshold into a segment of The Twilight Zone.

  “Dannette, darling!” A portly rather effeminate man with an Errol Flynn mustache and his hair drawn back in a braid rushed forward to enfold her in a quick hug. After bussing her on each cheek, he exclaimed, “This must be Riley!”

  His voice had the deep rasp of a long-time chain smoker. Before she understood his intentions, he embraced and kissed her, as well. “I’m so pleased to meet you, darling. Dannette has told me what a treasure you’ve been to her in her hour of need.” He patted her hand. “I’ve decided to work on you myself.”

  “Work on me?” she echoed, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he’d begun fluffing her hair with his blunt-tipped fingers.

  “No need to highlight. I wouldn’t dream of toying with this marrr-velous, natural color.”

  “She’s been in Africa.”

  “We should all be so lucky,” Armand sighed. “I also detect a bit of a natural wave.” He clutched a hand to his heart as if he feared it would leap from his breast. Then he frowned in honest consternation. “But the skin…”

  He made a tsking sound. “We went without our sunblock, didn’t we? We’ll need some heavy-duty massage therapy—and of course, we must exfoliate.”

  He was turning her, studying her from top to toe. His voice dropped to a whisper, as if she’d committed some horrible crime. “Added to that, you’ll need some serious rehydrating, my dear.”

  Once again, his fingers traced her features. “The brows should be waxed and lifted—”

  Riley’s hands flew to her eyebrows as if to protect them.

  “And that cut!”

  She felt a hot tide of embarrassment flood her cheeks.

  “No offense, Riley, honey,” Armand scolded. “But it looks as if someone went at it with a hacksaw. I’d sue the stylist who did it to you for defamation of character.”