Everything in Between (5 page)

“I think it’s noble.”

“Is that what attracted you to it?”

“I want to do something useful.”

“You could become a doctor or a nurse.”

“I want to do something useful that doesn’t involve blood, needles or sick people,” he clarified. “I had enough lifesaving in the service.”

The DJ called for everyone to join the newlyweds in a dance, and the floor quickly filled. Zae maneuvered toward a less-crowded corner.

“Would you mind if I led for a time?” Chip asked. “I’m not used to being steered ‘round the dance hall.”

“Sorry.” Zae grinned. “Colin wasn’t much of a dancer. I’m used to leading.”

Chip bowed his head toward Zae’s, his chin brushing a soft swoop of her complex updo. Tempted to rest her head on his shoulder, Zae closed her eyes and surrendered to the strains of the music. It was hard to speak of Colin with anyone else, but it came so naturally with Chip. Zae would have mused on that, reasoning out why, had a tap on her shoulder not stalled her train of thought.

“Excuse me,” started a chipper, feminine voice behind the tap. “May I cut in?”

Zae turned in Chip’s arms. The spa lady.

Mindful of Cinder’s working relationship with the woman, Zae smiled. “Absolutely not,” she said and settled back into Chip’s frame.

“There’s plenty of me to go around, professor,” Chip chuckled once Cinder’s client was out of earshot.

“She can have some of you later,” Zae said. “For right now, you’re all mine.”

With many more guests on the dance floor, the DJ sped up the music, playing “I’ve Got a Feeling” by the Black-Eyed Peas. Chip and Zae remained partners, separating only when Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” started. Gian, in a surprise dedication to his bride, led his brother Pio, his friend and former co-worker Karl Lange, Chip and Sheng Li instructors Sionne Falaniko and Cory Blair in the choreography from the video.

Chip and Gian, bookends in their uniforms, flanked the others in their tuxedos. At nearly seven feet tall and over 300 pounds with a mane to rival Troy Polamalu’s, Sionne was the biggest Single Lady Zae had ever seen, but he kept up with the fast footwork. Tall and slender Cory, a junior at Washington University, tipped the scales at one-fifty fully clothed. With his tidy afro and chocolate complexion, he resembled a young Michael Jackson shaking his hips and kicking to “Single Ladies.” Zae and Cinder fell into in each other’s arms laughing so hard, tears threatened to ruin their makeup.

Vintage Commodores followed the performance of “Single Ladies,” and the gang took partners. Gian swept Cinder onto the dance floor, Pio took his wife, Sionne invited Dawn, Cory paired with Eve, and Chip returned to Zae. The DJ spun tunes that encompassed four decades, and Chip kept up with each song. Like Ellen Degeneres, he seemed to possess an innate sense of dance, easily adopting the styles and moves of more accomplished dancers. When Chip joined Gian and Pio in a chest-bumping, high-jumping mosh pit tumble to Green Day, Zae accepted an invitation from one of Gian’s former platoon mates, a tall, handsome Marine who looked like he’d been carved from a solid block of bittersweet chocolate.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he observed, his hips moving seductively to the beat of Earth, Wind & Fire.

“Cinder and Gian know how to throw a good party,” Zae said.

“You’re an English teacher, right?”

Zae nodded. “I’m head of the English department at Missouri University.”

“Brains
and
beauty,” her dance partner remarked. “Nice.”

Zae gave him an empty yet pleasant smile. The man’s attention was starting to smell like a set-up. “What do you do?”

“I’m career military,” he answered. “Intelligence,” he added, stating his occupational specialty. “Major Anthony Decker.” He gave her a small salute. “Weapons and tactics instructor.”

“Does that mean you know how to kill a man with a soda straw?”

“I could kill a man with a coffee stirrer.”

“You sweet talker.” Zae grinned.

Maj. Decker was charming enough, and certainly nice to look at, but Zae was relieved when the DJ called everyone to their tables for dinner. Only the wedding party would be seated at the head table, and Zae welcomed the break from her intelligence officer, who promised to find her after the meal.

Zae moved through the crowd to take her place at the head table, spotting Chip near the DJ. He and the spa lady were separating, a sight that threatened to ruin Zae’s appetite.
Whatever
, she told herself.
Chip can’t help that women throw themselves at him.

Yes, but he could toss them back once in a while,
offered a niggling voice deep in her head.

Zae went to her seat at the head table. Chip, who’d been seated to Gian’s right, stepped past Gian and Cinder to pull Zae’s chair for her. With the regal iciness of an angry Queen Mother, she deposited herself on the chair with little more than a nod of thanks to Chip, who then returned to his seat.

“What was that about?” Cinder asked. Sitting between Gian and Zae, she was perfectly positioned to intercept every side glance Zae threw at Chip.

Zae neatly arranged her already tidy cutlery before responding. “What were you thinking, inviting that woman to your wedding?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Cinder said. “I invited a lot of women to the wedding.”

“That spa woman!” Zae whispered in Cinder’s ear. “She’s been crawling over Chip like pubic lice.”

“That’s a record.” Cinder grinned. “I think this is the fastest you’ve ever gone from meeting to hating someone.”

“I don’t hate her,” Zae blithely responded. “She just looks dirty to me.”

“Because she’s looking at Chip,” Cinder said.

“She can look all she wants. It’s the touching that makes me sick.”

“You’re so possessive of him.”

Zae’s throat tightened around the denial she wanted to offer. “I’m possessive of all my friends,” she said without meeting Cinder’s gaze.

“True,” Cinder acknowledged, “but you get wicked mean when Chip starts dating anyone.”

“He’s not dating that woman,” Zae snarled. “One dance does not constitute dating.”

“One dance could lead to dating.” Cinder took a sip of her chilled chardonnay. “At a wedding, one dance could lead to a whole lotta things. I saw you with Major Decker. He’s single, you know, never even been married.”

“He’s not my type,” Zae snapped.

“Tall, dark and freakishly handsome is everyone’s type.”

“He’s a soldier,” Zae said. “I would never date a cop, a fireman or a soldier.”

“Why not? Chip was a soldier, and you two get along great.”

“
Was
,” Zae said. “He doesn’t put himself in the line of fire anymore.”

Cinder nodded in full understanding.

The arrival of the first course, a roasted heirloom tomato bisque with asiago crostini, spared Zae further conversation about men in uniform. She and the rest of the wedding party and guests finished the first course and subsequently tucked into Portobello mushroom tortellini with grilled artichokes, sweet peppers and balsamic glazed asparagus. The third course entrée, a grilled rosemary-marinated veal chop with garlic au jus on a bed of sautéed spinach, earned enthusiastic applause for Bryan Young, the chef and founder of Catering Plus St. Louis. Mr. Young stepped from a tray where he handled the final touches to some entrées, and he bowed crisply in acknowledgment.

Zae pierced a couple of haricots verts with her fork, and she nibbled their ends when Chip, leaning toward her behind Cinder and Gian, whispered her name.

“Yes?” she said.

“If you’re not gonna finish your chop, slide it on down here,” he said.

“You can get another serving from the caterer, you know,” Zae pointed out.

“But I want yours.”

Zae speared her partially eaten chop with her fork and passed it to him behind Cinder and Gian. She didn’t quite know what to make of his preference, although she secretly delighted in feeding him.

Plates were cleared and platters of imported and domestic cheeses accompanied by fresh seasonal fruit and hand-dipped chocolates were being placed at each table when the DJ introduced Chip for the first toast of the night. He swiped his linen napkin across his mouth before standing with his champagne glass.

The room quieted, every gaze settling on Chip. Lit tapers on each table warmly accented the bright glitter of the chandeliers. Chip stared at his champagne flute, seemingly entranced by the occasional bubble bursting on the surface of the liquid within it.

“I’m Captain Charles Avery Kish, United States Marines,” Chip began, “but most of y’all probably know me as Chip. I’ve known Major Giancarlo Lucco Piasanti for fifteen years. I’ve stood with him in battle, and today I had the special honor of standing with him as he and Cinder start their lives together. I think I saw this day coming a little more than a year ago, when I first met Cinder. She came into Sheng Li looking for a martial arts instructor, and by her first lesson, I knew she’d found much more.” Chip paused to allow a moment of polite applause.

“What y’all don’t know,” Chip grinned sheepishly, “is that I took a shot. I walked Cinder home after her first class, and I did everything I could to steal her heart. I was too late, though. Ol’ Cupid had already shot his arrow, and Cinder only had Gian on her mind. I’ve been lucky enough to watch their relationship unfold. Through the best times and the very worst times, they’ve shown how much two people can love each other. And how love like that can overcome just about anything.”

Gian shared a tender, chaste kiss with Cinder. Chip’s gaze fell on Zae. With a corner of her napkin, she dabbed at the happy tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

“ ‘The sight of lovers feedeth those in love,’ ” Chip continued. “I hope every one of you will join me in gorging on Gian and Cinder tonight as we celebrate their marriage, their love, and the beginning of their happily ever after.” He raised his glass to Gian and Cinder. “Salud, my friends.”

Zae raised her glass, clinking it with Chip’s. To another round of applause, Chip sat and downed his champagne in one gulp.

“That was a beautiful toast,” Cinder said, accepting a kiss on her cheek from Chip.

“They don’t call me the best man for nothin’,” he teased with a wink.

* * *

Zae licked her forefinger and pressed it to the crumbs of cake dotting her dessert plate. She had helped Cinder select the cake, a four-tiered, white chocolate-covered floral monstrosity of dark chocolate filled with raspberries and chocolate mousse. Surprisingly light for a combination of such rich elements, Zae had eaten three slices of cake to Chip’s two. She would have challenged Sionne with her fourth if Cinder hadn’t patted Zae’s hip under the table.

“I think someone wants to get on your dance card,” she said. A subtle nod directed Zae’s attention to Maj. Decker, who politely zig-zagged a path through the throng of guests.

“Excuse me,” Zae said, rising. “He’s had his locator beacon on me ever since we danced. Every time I look up, he’s eyeballin’ me.”

“I’ll stall him,” Cinder offered.

Gathering her voluminous skirt in her hands, Zae gave Cinder a quick kiss on the top of her head and hurried away from the head table. She peeped over her shoulder to see Cinder taking Maj. Decker’s hand. She held onto it, even when the major tried to pull away.

Zae thought about heading for the exit and simply going back to the Chouteau Mansion, but a wall of French doors offered a more immediate getaway. She slipped onto the rear patio and into the breezy, starlit night.

* * *

Chip and Gian relaxed at the wedding party’s table, watching Cinder dance with Maj. Decker, who seemed preoccupied with scanning the crowd.

“He won’t find her unless she wants to be found.” Chip chuckled. “Poor kid is wasting his time.”

“That ‘kid’ is eleven years older than you,” Gian said. “And he’s trained. If he wants to find Zae, he will.”

“No, he won’t.” Chip laughed.

“You’re probably right.” Gian smiled. “Even with all his experience with terrorists, spies and enemy combatants, I don’t think Decker has ever encountered anyone like Zae.” Gian played with one of the Cuban cigars a guest had given him after dinner. “So which one of the hot blondes on the dance floor is your date?”

Chip sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “None of ’em. I’m flyin’ solo.”

Gian’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought you were bringing Heather?”

“Nah. I never even asked her. Which is a good thing since she broke up with me this morning.”

“What’d you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Chip swirled the watery remains of the iced coffee he’d ordered after dessert. “If I heard her right, that was the problem.”

“Sorry about the bust-up, junior.”

“I’m not.”

“What? Why not?”

Chip vented his frustration on his coffee stirrer, twisting it into an awkward knot. “I’m tired of meeting women who seem like they want to have fun, then all of a sudden, they want to start pickin’ out china patterns and adopting a cat.”