“I wonder if it’s a bad sign for me…” he said pensively. “I’m the oldest, I should be the one doing this first, right?”
“We always knew you’d be slow to get married.” Amanda hiccupped. “Ever since you blew it with me in the sixth grade. I cursed you with bad luck.”
“You did?” Barry asked at the same time that Max sat up and asked, “You did?”
“Oh yes,” she said importantly, taking another swig of beer. “It was right after you said you wouldn’t watch The Secret Garden with me again. I knew it was over.”
The four of us collapsed into loud, fitful laughter, oblivious to the outside world. It wasn’t until the gate to the pool pushed open that I realized we weren’t alone.
Marcus was standing there, his eyes wide and his face unreadable.
I leaped to my feet immediately, running to take his hand. “What is it?” I was almost afraid to ask. “What did Takahari say?”
The rest of them froze as every eye turned to Marcus.
He gazed around the circle in a stunned daze before his eyes finally fell on me.
“He signed the papers.”
Chapter 21
The big day had arrived. Not the big day—not the wedding itself. But as far as the media were concerned, it might as well have been. You see, the press had been banned from the wedding. Both the rehearsal dinner and the ceremony the next day were limited to friends and family. But that meant that the reception and the big party the day before were still up for grabs.
And people were grabbing for it!
“Rebecca, would you rather the ambassador from India or the Republic of East Timor was seated at the Section B head table? There’s only one slot left.”
“Rebecca, did you have a chance to sample the edibles from the thank-you baskets? We still need to decide between Belgian truffles and cinnamon starlets.”
“Rebecca, I know you said you were fine just playing a tape of the Vitamin String Orchestra from the main sound stage, but the thing is, they’re asking to come and play it live, and I don’t think it would be the best decorum to—”
“All right people—listen up!” Amanda shouted. She had come to take her maid of honor duties very seriously, and after the last three days of her tyrannical dictatorship, the rest of the wedding planners were on edge. “We’re going to go with India—because until a moment ago I was unaware that Timor was a real place; truffles—because Max is allergic to cinnamon; and of course, the orchestra can play live. You’ll just need to clear it with Niles in security and Pam—who’s handling the loading docks.”
When no one moved, she clapped her hands loudly.
“Let’s go, people—move!”
“Okay, remember what they did to Marie Antoinette when she decided to throw one too many parties…?” I asked gently, trying to temper her spirits.
“Ha! I’d like to see them try.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked out over the grounds. “Niles would have them down in two seconds flat. Then that wretched bird of yours would eat the remains.” I shuddered automatically, and she turned to me with interest. “How is that going, by the way?”
Before I could answer, we were interrupted by a very angry Russian.
“Well, if it isn’t Rebecca White.” Tatiana stomped her way through a flowerbed in spiked stilettos, sending the obsessive compulsive gardener into hysterics behind her. “The bane of my existence. Do you know you’re late for your final fitting?”
I glanced down at my watch as Amanda stared innocently off in the other direction. “By, like, four minutes! I was on my way there now.”
“Four minutes when I could have been sewing Australian sapphires into the hem of your gown! Tell me, Rebecca, do you enjoy seeing me suffer? Are you trying to be a…how you say…a thorn in my neck?”
“…a thorn in your side?”
“?????????! ??????!”
I took that to mean…I should probably get inside to my fitting.
Leaving Amanda to amuse herself directing the troops, I followed my Russian keeper across the sweeping grounds to the miniature sewing studio she’d set up in Marcus’s sitting room.
When I’d suggested that we get married here at the villa instead of flying out for some destination themed extravagance, I truly thought that it would be simplifying things.