Perfectly Scripted (22 page)

Finally, the doors opened and Maggie walked out, a lovely vision in her wedding dress that hit below her knees. It wasn’t white, but an elegant champagne metallic brocade dress with a matching three-quarter-length-sleeve coat. Her light-brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulder. She’d kept her accessories simple—no veil, just diamond earrings and a pair of champagne-colored heels.

Tinley stepped forward and Maggie handed her the bridal bouquet, an elegant arrangement of white hydrangeas with cascading greenery. Smiling brightly, the minister asked us to take our seats and proceeded with the ceremony.

Twenty-five minutes later, Maggie and Harrison were officially husband and wife. Applause and whistles erupted from the crowd as Harrison swept Maggie into his arms and gave her a sweet kiss. Maggie saw me and winked. Smiling, I shook my head, and she shrugged. Then the newlyweds exited the room hand in hand to the music of “Ode to Joy.”

When the doors closed again, a woman in a silver gown explained that dinner would be served promptly at eight thirty in the formal dining room.

“Please enjoy the hors d’oeuvres and cocktails in the parlor.” She motioned towards the crowd, and the doors parted once more.

We crossed the parlor room to the bar, and I ordered a white wine. Tinley ordered a vodka martini. While we waited for the bartender to make her drink, I dug my phone out of my DVF clutch and checked my messages. I hadn’t expected to hear from him tonight. It was three in the morning in Moscow. Surprisingly, though, he’d sent a message minutes after the ceremony started.

RONAN: Have fun at Maggie’s event. Send me a picture. Preferably one of you naked.

Laughing, I shook my head and typed a quick response.

ME: The event was a surprise wedding! The groom is Harrison Ranford. I’ll send you a picture but i will not be naked. I miss you madly.

After turning off my phone, I scanned the room while Tinley shamelessly flirted with the bartender. Then I caught myself staring at the ring Ronan had given me, and my heart thumped in my chest. I wished he were here.

A hand settled on my shoulder and squeezed, tearing me away from my thoughts of Ronan.

“I’m going to go check on Maggie and Harrison. Do you want to come along?” Tinley asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied before taking a sip of my drink. “Instead of cowboys and ski instructors, you’re into bartenders now?”

She laughed, smiling over her martini glass. “Not so much.”

We climbed the marble staircase to the second floor, where Maggie and Harrison were smiling for the photographer.

“Who is that?” I asked, nodding to the handsome man wearing a pinstriped navy suit and standing next to Maggie’s new husband.

“That, my dear, is Sebastian Ranford. However, I prefer to call him by one of his few nicknames: manwhore, slut, or playboy.” She laughed and tossed back her martini. “I could go on.”

“Maybe he just enjoys sex. I mean, look at him.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” she said, her voice cracking with annoyance.

“Oh, my darling girls, I’m profoundly pleased that you’re both here,” she said, shifting on her heels. “I want a photograph with you both. Do not leave.”

“Sure thing, Aunt Maggie.”

I wasn’t sure I could take Tinley seriously with that accent. She made me giggle.

Sabastian glanced at her and said, “Save me a dance Tinley.”

“No chance, Ranford,” she shot back quickly. “Judging by the lip stain on your collar, it seems that you already have a dance partner.”

He smirked. “Well, that’s the most you’ve said to me since we met. I think you’re starting to like me.” He sidestepped her and headed straight for the bar.

Tinley kept her eyes forward, focused on the bride and groom, but a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

After they snapped a few more pictures of the newlyweds, Maggie motioned for us to join her in the sitting room.

Careful not to crush her bouquet, I gave Maggie a quick hug. “Congratulations, Mrs. Ranford.”

“Thank you for coming, my dear.” Grasping my hand, she said, “You look so lovely in red, darling. And this ring! My goodness, it’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you. It was a gift from Ronan, but you’re not getting off the hook that easily, Duchess. How could you not tell me this was a wedding—
your
wedding, no less,” I teased.

“Darling girl, you know how I love a good party? Well, I adore a surprise party even more.”

“Yes,
this
is a surprise. He’s very handsome,” I whispered. “Tell me about him.”

“Harrison retired a few years ago. He was a screenwriter. His wife died two years ago from pancreatic cancer.”

We switched up our pose, and she continued talking about how they love the theater, ballet, and traveling. She wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing me that it was true love though. This was, after all, her third marriage.

“But why marriage?”

“He’s absolutely wonderful—loving and kind. Harrison makes me feel alive.” Then she cupped my chin in her hand. “Darling Holliday, when you find that special someone you love grab ahold of it and don’t let go. Life is too short. Live each day to the fullest and with love.”

Maggie, like Charlotte, had time and again given me sound advice—or, as I liked to call them, grand pearls of wisdom. My eyes drifted to my ring once more, and I twisted it around my finger. I felt infinitely closer to Ronan even though he was thousands of miles away.

I left the reception around midnight and went straight home and to change into my pajamas. What Maggie said about finding that special someone struck a chord inside my heart. I took a seat at my writing desk and pulled out my therapy journal. My hands flipped the pages, and I read my last few entries pausing for a moment at the one I had titled:

The page was blank because I had yet to understand what exactly it was that I was afraid of. Was it Derek? His threat? What would happen if he found me? I scribbled some geometric shapes and I pondered the elements of my issue. Tapping my pen to my lip, it finally hit me.

I’ve gone over a hundred scenarios in my head about how Derek would make good on his promise, each one worse than the last. But Maggie’s words and my feelings for Ronan had me determined to take control of my fear.

Holliday

Between texting Ronan, last-minute additions to the show’s guest list, several prep meetings, and the final dress rehearsal, the rest of the weekend flew by. Some of the models were unable to make their fittings because they were booked for other shows, but we had plenty of time to prepare for any needed alterations and changes before tonight’s show at the Union Club.

After spending my lunch working out I returned to the ballroom at the Union Club. Charlotte was talking to Maya about seating arrangements for the exclusive invite-only after party we were hosting, complete with champagne, couture cocktails, finger foods, and beauty treatments and massages set up in VIP suites.

On my way to the gifting suite, I was caught off guard by the sight of Heather leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Her clothes were wrinkled, and there was a giant coffee stain across the neckline. Not only that, but her skin looked blotchy and her hair was kind of stringy—oily, even. The bags under her eyes told me that she probably hadn’t slept in days.

“Heather, what are you doing here?”

“Unfortunately looking for you,” she scoffed.

“What’s with the attitude?”

“Look, I’m only going to say…to say this once so listen up.” Her words came out harsh, though slightly irregular at the end. “Stay the hell away from Grady.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t seen him since the Foundation Gala. Besides, that’s rich coming from you, the woman who, weeks ago, attempted to seduce
my
boyfriend.”

Heather looked stunned. “Was that his version of what happened?” she asked, moving to stand in front of me, and that’s when I smelled the alcohol on her breath. “He came on to
me
.” Her step faltered as she backed away from me, but she recovered by leaning against the wall.

Even though I was irritated at her for lying about Ronan and demanding that I stay away from Grady, I managed to maintain my cool. Clearly, she needed some help.

“How did you get here?”

She opened her handbag and pulled a pack of gum out. “I drove.” Then she popped a piece in her mouth and let out a high-pitched laugh.

“Have you been drinking?”

“How is that any of your business,
Hollie-day
?” she asked, purposely mispronouncing my name.

Dammit, she wasn’t going to make this easy for me. My gut told me to call her a cab, but I also figured Grady deserved a call as well. After fishing my phone from my handbag, I looked up his number. Heather started to walk away, so I hurried to catch up to her. I couldn’t let her leave, much less get behind the wheel of a car and drive.

“Hey, Heather,” I called after her. “Would you like to get some coffee?”

Grady answered then, and I explained the situation. Heather started screaming at me, swinging her handbag in my direction. I managed to dodge each attempt.

“Grady, get over here and pick up your girlfriend now,” I snapped.

“I’m across town with my agent. Don’t let her leave,” he replied, his voice was filled with concern. “I’ll be there soon. Bye.”