Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel (36 page)

Yet Celeste had never felt pity from Marcie, and her moving to Baton Rouge hadn’t dimmed the friendship. She and Marcie drove back and forth between Baton Rouge and NOLA regularly to visit one another, as well as texted and emailed. So, eventually, Celeste had learned the missing piece about Cassandra and Lucas’s love story. They’d met months before that business meeting, a hot, passionate encounter in the Berkshires that involved a motorcycle and Lucas’s very clever mouth. Marcie couldn’t be budged to say more than that, respecting her sister’s privacy, but that brief incident had been enough to leave a big impression on both Lucas and Cassandra. Celeste thought of her and Leland’s first meeting in a convenience store, and understood how that could happen, in a way she wouldn’t have only a week ago.

For her side of things, as Celeste and Marcie became closer friends and Marcie began to open up to her about her deep submission to Ben, Celeste had faced her own disclosure dilemma. Eventually, she’d taken her courage in both hands and let Marcie know about the night at Club Surreal. In a very high level overview way, one that made cliff notes look like Tolstoy’s
War and Peace
. And with great emphasis on how
very
long ago it had happened.

At first Marcie had seemed a little taken aback. When she said slowly, “Ben never told me”, Celeste figured their friendship was over.

“He couldn’t,” Celeste hurried to say. “I mean, Matt promised they’d never say a word about it.”

“…you may be assured that what’s on that tape is something that won’t be discussed outside this circle. Not now, not ever. We don’t impugn a woman’s reputation…”

“Oh.” Marcie’s expression had cleared, and Celeste had been nonplussed to see relief. Marcie closed her hand over hers. “That’s their code. They’d never break that. Their über-chivalry is one of the things that can drive you crazy and yet make you love and trust every one of them beyond anything you ever expect. So…okay. I may have to take a couple face shots next time we spar, but other than that…we’re good.”

And that had been that.

Cassandra slipped an arm through hers, bringing her back to the present again. The woman with hair like white gold had facial features that reflected the family resemblance between her and Marcie, though Cassandra was a few years older, had blue eyes instead of Marcie’s doe-brown color, and was more serious. Understandable for the oldest child who’d had to raise her siblings with an absent father and a mentally ill mother. Since that was a scenario that Celeste understood down to her bones, she’d always felt a special connection to Cassandra, seeing things in her eyes she expected the woman saw in hers as well.

“Normally I wouldn’t try to put a guest to work,” Cass said, giving her a squeeze, “but I do have a favor to ask.”

“I’d be thrilled to help with anything you need,” Celeste said, and meant it.

“Good.” Cassandra lowered her voice, glancing over at Marcie, currently engaged in conversation with Dana. “Marcie could use a friend today. It’s different, having a friend to talk with, instead of a sister. She’s worried Ben is getting cold feet.”

Seeing Cassandra was serious, Celeste blinked. “Is she insane? He’s obsessed with her.”

“He is, but Ben…he sometimes has difficulty when it comes to things like this. A couple times this week, Marcie has almost talked herself out of the ‘week of separation before the wedding’ thing, but I think it was a good idea. Breathing room, so she knows that trust and love don’t need constant vigilance.”

Celeste pursed her lips. “Well, whether or not Ben deserves her is a moot point. She can’t live without him and he can’t live without her, so he’s just going to have to get his shit together and figure it out. He tries to bail, I’ll run him down like a dog and beat him with a tire iron.”

Cassandra smiled, gave her another squeeze. “You’ll have to beat me to it.”

Celeste thought of Ben that night at Club Surreal. There’d been a moment where she’d caught a look in his eyes, one she was pretty sure he didn’t let anyone see that often. “He won’t bail. He might be worried he doesn’t deserve her, but he wouldn’t hurt her like that. Not for anything. He loves her just as crazy much as she loves him.”

“Yes, he does. It’s scary and wonderful to watch. Oh, the caterer is waving at me.” She handed Celeste the champagne bottle. “I could have hired waitstaff, but our discussions tend to be the private kind. If you don’t mind making sure we all stay refilled, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

Just like Marcie’s welcome, Cassandra’s warmth toward her didn’t suggest a knee-jerk hostess response. She was treating Celeste like a welcome friend. But then, ever since she’d met the K&A men and then their chosen brides, she’d never noted anything false about them. They simply made a person feel good, special.

A person they deemed worthy, she corrected herself, though she didn’t mean that in the wrong way. She’d seen Matt Kensington’s cool reaction to a reporter or business competitor that stepped out of line with him. He could cut someone off at the knees with merely a look. Most people didn’t cross him. Except the woman wearing Christian Louboutin heels and an Ann Taylor classic style short dress in a sea-green color, who was currently handling a champagne flute in her elegant, long-nailed fingers. Her flaxen hair was loose in waves around her deceptively delicate features.

Savannah Tennyson Kensington, Matt’s wife. Out of all the K&A wives, Savannah was the one who could always stand toe-to-toe with the formidable Matthew Lord Kensington, even while loving him with everything she was. More remarkable to Celeste—at the beginning, at least—Savannah was a submissive who softened at his merest touch or a look out of his piercing brown eyes. She and Matt had been blessed with a baby girl in the past year, and Celeste hoped to get a chance to see Angelica with her parents. She might not be doing business social news anymore, but those were the things she’d liked the best about that job. Seeing a real love match, and the happiness that came with the birth of a child. She couldn’t capture the depth of those events in a way that fit the fluffy tone of the business social news, but she could feel them herself.

Celeste had once been no more educated than anyone else about BDSM, thinking a submissive woman was a subjugated one, weak-willed and a discredit to her gender. Or a victim of psychological or physical abuse. She’d injected those misconceptions with her own poison, resisting the craving for submission deep within herself. Which was why that night at Club Surreal had frightened her to the core, the way she’d been overcome by the heady need to surrender control to the right male. Leland was reopening that chapter and adding to it, offering her the chance to read a whole book about what lay within her. A journey it seemed he was more than willing to take with her.

But it would end, because every book ended.

Dana’s glass was nearly empty, so she moved across the gazebo, putting herself squarely inside the circle of women gathering there. “There she is.” Marcie smiled at her, taking her hand. “Stop moving, Dana. She’s going to fill your glass.”

Dana put her hand on Celeste’s wrist as a guide for herself as Celeste topped off the glass. The woman with skin the color of caramel had short-cropped hair and wore dark glasses. She said she preferred that, since her unfocused eyes tended to be a distraction to someone looking at her. She wore dark slacks and a silk blouse that clung to her petite frame. A chain of jasper beads with a set of dog tags as the pendant was around her slim throat. Sliding her arm around Celeste’s neck, Dana gave her a warm hug. “Heard you stirred up some trouble in Baton Rouge. Good for you.”

Celeste chuckled. “Not so good for me. I’m getting behind on my deadlines as we speak.”

“Eh.” Dana waved a dismissive hand. “There will always be work. I’m thinking you had damn good timing, doing it a couple days before Marcie’s wedding so you could come hang out here and be part of the fun and chaos. About time for Freak Girl to be married off.”

“I wasn’t the one dragging my feet,” Marcie reminded her. “This was all supposed to happen in the spring, and I let myself be talked into waiting a few more months, ‘to be sure you’re sure,’ he said. Even now, he’s probably thinking of all the reasons this isn’t a good choice for
me
.”

“That’s why Peter is shadowing him this week. So he can punch Ben’s hard Irish head through a concrete block whenever he needs it.”

Though Marcie smiled at Dana’s declaration, Celeste saw the shadows in her brown eyes, the worry that Cass had mentioned. Dana had heard them in her tone, because she slipped an arm around Marcie’s waist. “The boy’s just a little fucked in the head when it comes to things like this. Once he sees you coming down the aisle in that spectacular dress, it’ll all be over for him. He knows in his heart you’re meant to be together.”

“I get it. It all makes sense to me logically,” Marcie said impatiently. “But having someone constantly telling you in ways large and small that he’s not good enough for you, and you’re better off without him, starts to wear on the nerves, you know? Especially when you have those moments that aren’t about talking at all. I just look in his eyes, and I see that we’re all wrapped up in each other, that there’s no one else either of us wants. So why can’t he focus on that instead?”

“Maybe because when you feel like nothing, you can’t believe someone who’s everything could possibly see the real you.”

Celeste hadn’t intended to say anything, but the words were out before she could stop them. Feeling the other women’s attention turn to her, she frowned into her champagne and took a swallow to cover it. “I mean, it’s just a possibility,” she said lamely.

“A very good one.” Rachel was on Marcie’s other side now, her arm overlapping Dana’s. She wore dark slacks as well, with a gorgeous flowing tunic in a swirl of earth tones. She gave Celeste a friendly nod, though her eyes were pensive. “Ben is afraid of not being everything you need him to be. He’s been down some very dark roads in his life. But you have nothing to worry about. He’s impossibly addicted to you. As Dana says, once he’s standing at the altar waiting for you, nothing else will matter. To either of you.”

“You know, you should just call him. Or go see him,” Celeste said. “Neutral place, like a coffee shop. What’s bugging you is how you left things before you stomped over here.”

“I didn’t stomp, I drove.” Marcie shot her a look. “And I didn’t tell you we fought over it.”

“Yeah, you just did. Someone doesn’t fret this much over something like that unless they left things hanging with the other person in question.”

Cassandra joined them then, with Savannah at her side. “You didn’t tell me you two fought over it.”

Marcie shot Celeste a “gee thanks” look. Celeste shrugged that off. “So what did you tell him before you ‘drove’ over here nearly a week ago?”

“Fine.” Marcie brushed her thick hair back over one shoulder. “I told him I’d had enough of the dumb-ass hints and foot-dragging, and I didn’t want to see him until the wedding. I told him if he was going to bail, he’d have to do it at the altar, in front of all our family and friends.” Marcie took a swig of the champagne, lifted her chin. “Bastard.” Then the chin started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh Christ. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” Celeste was set to dash forward to hug her, but Cassandra waved a hand, stepping forward to blot her sister’s eyes with a ready handkerchief before her makeup was ruined.

“Don’t worry. She’s been like this all week. Like an emotional Ping Pong ball. Though now I know a little bit more why.” The two sisters exchanged a look, Cass’s older sister/motherly side showing. Marcie shook her head.

“It was between me and him. And would have stayed that way if it wasn’t for nosy Lois Lane over there.”

“Hey, the public had a right to know,” Celeste gently teased her. However, feeling chagrined, she put down her champagne and slid closer to her friend.

“I was already glad to have Celeste here. Now I’m doubly so.” Cassandra sent Celeste a reassuring look. “But Marcie, no tears, damn it. You’ll get us all going. C’mon. The caterers are ready to serve and the food is so awesome, you’ll forget all about him.”

“Yeah. And I’ll be back at the gym until the wedding.”

“Not my fault you picked a ‘fuck-me-right-in-front-of-the-minister’ dress to wear for the wedding,” Cassandra said mercilessly, making the women chuckle. At their hostess’s gesture, they all moved into the screened gazebo, taking seats at the table. The napkins were placed in the center of the elegantly ridged white dishes, the silver napkin rings embellished with a fresh black-eyed Susan twined with a white rose, to match the sunflowers and white roses in the center arrangement.

“It is a very hot, very beautiful dress,” Dana agreed, taking a seat next to Rachel. Celeste sat on the other side of Rachel, Marcie to her left, with Cass and Savannah completing the circle.

“I personally felt her up from head to toe when she had it on,” Dana continued. “So I can say with great certainty that Ben will lose his freaking mind when he sees her in it. And there will be no fucking in front of the minister,” she added.

“So says the minister herself, who just talked about feeling up the bride.” A smile flirted around Savannah’s mouth as she nodded a greeting to Celeste.

The caterer’s waitstaff arrived to serve the breakfast, but Celeste noted they melted away after that. Only one female staff member, clad in black slacks and white shirt, remained, but she stood at a discreet distance outside the gazebo. She was close enough to be summoned, but she was well out of earshot, guaranteeing them the privacy Cassandra had noted would be needed. Considering the tone of the conversation, Celeste wasn’t disagreeing. She also thought Marcie was right about needing a workout after the meal. The table was loaded with temptations, such as small quiches, croissants stuffed with goat cheese, berry tarts and chocolate truffles.

“There’s a proper time and place for everything,” Dana said. “Plenty of time for fucking after the wedding and the reception. You can let it all loose at the private after-party, in Ben’s loft.”