Prologue
OHMYGOD! There he is,” Jenny whispers in a high-pitched squeal, her hand on my arm, nails digging into my skin. I don’t even bother to lift my gaze from my plate. I know who she’s referring to. Caleb Lawson. He’s the only thing she’s been talking about tonight.
“I can’t believe he’s your cousin now.” She rips a dinner roll in half, smears it with butter, and shoves it into her mouth, all without taking her eyes off the man across the room.
“He’s not my cousin.” I’m exasperated because we’ve had this conversation at least a dozen times. She’s mostly kidding, but honestly, I’m tired of her bringing it up. “He’s the son of my stepfather’s sister.”
My new stepfather.
I search through the crowded ballroom until I find my mother in her long white dress. She’s beautiful, flowers woven into her hair, diamond earrings, an early wedding gift from her husband, dangling from her ears. Talking with some distant relatives, she waves her expressive hands.
As I watch, my new stepdad, Seth, comes up behind her. He winds an arm around her waist and joins the conversation. Mom leans into him, relaxing into that embrace like it’s the most natural thing. She’s happy today, on her wedding day.
I’m happy for her, too.
I’m just sad for me.
Which is a bad feeling, a selfish one. My dad passed away almost nine years ago, and Mom had waited a long time before she dated. She waited until my older brother and I had moved out and my younger brother was a senior in high school, applying for college.
Once she finally started dating, she met Seth pretty quickly. When Mom knew she could have a future with him, she spoke to each of us individually, asking for our permission before they got serious.
It shouldn’t bother me when Seth takes her hand and leads her out onto the dance floor. She deserves it, to be loved once again. I know this. I believe it wholeheartedly.
But, much to my dismay, it does bother me. Because all I can see is my father spinning her around our living room, dancing in the colorful glow of the Christmas tree. The sound of their laughter and how they stared into each other’s eyes as if no one else existed.
I have to remind myself that is a memory, and this is reality.
Looking away from the dance floor, I take in the understated cream-colored ballroom. Simple flower arrangements of white roses and lilies sit on tables that are ringed by slip-covered chairs. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the guests as they chat and mingle.
Out of the window, it’s a picture-perfect Santa Monica day. The Pacific Ocean glistens with white-capped waves. Surfers balance, arms outstretched, only to topple into the water as the swell they ride crashes into the sand.
Mom lets out a tinkling laugh, drawing my attention back to her. I watch as Seth twirls her around the dance floor, causing her white wedding dress to flare out into a bell shape.
I have a dress like that, too. It’s in a garment bag, shoved deep into the back of my closet. Never worn.
“Do you think it’s possible to be equal parts happy and sad at the same time?” I ask Jenny, fiddling with the place card in front of me. It has my name on it, in swooping cursive script.
Dr. Gwen Wright.
Before Jenny can answer, my older brother, Brandon, comes over. “You’re up,” he tells me. I rise and follow him to the raised dais in the center of the room, where a microphone sits on a stand, waiting for me.
Mom and Seth have finished their dance and taken their seats at the long, narrow table reserved for the wedding party. I glance over, and Mom gives me an encouraging smile.
Anxious, I rearrange the wide skirts of my lacy, blue bridesmaid dress. Next to me, Brandon taps a fork against a crystal goblet. The loud ringing sound echoes through the room, drawing everyone’s attention. Brandon hands me the microphone and takes a step back, leaving me alone in the spotlight, a place that feels unfamiliar. Insecurity batters at me, chipping away at the confidence I’ve built over the years.
When I look into the crowd, my gaze snags on my younger brother Teddy, who sits two tables down with his suit jacket off and his tie askew. He gives me a cheesy thumbs up, trying to bolster my spirits. I send a shaky smile back.
After I clear my throat, I say, “Hello, everyone.” The microphone lets out a high-pitched hiss of feedback. I readjust it and begin again, sounding unnaturally loud. “I’m Gwen, the daughter of the bride and also the maid of honor. Thank you all for joining my family and me today as we celebrate the marriage of my mother, Melinda, and Seth.
“As most of you already know, I have the best mother in the world. She puts her children first. Whether it was staying up late to help us finish a project for school or cuddling with us on the couch when we were sick, Mom was always there for us.”
I pause, swallowing down the knot in my throat, anxious about the next part. I hadn’t been sure how to address my father’s death from colon cancer in this toast. If I should ignore it because it’s too morbid or mention it as a way to honor him and to acknowledge all the hardships my family went through after he died. In the end, I included him. I still think of my dad every day and to leave him out had felt like a betrayal.
“After my father passed away, I worried that as much as she cared for us, my mom also needed someone to care for her. When she met Seth and fell in love with him, I knew I didn’t have to be anxious about that any longer. She had found someone she could share her life with. Someone who loves her as much as she loves us.”
I smile at Seth, my lips tight, and raise my glass to him.
He nods back at me, smiling pleasantly.
“Welcome to the family, Seth. Welcome also to his sister, Marjorie, and her family.” I tip my glass toward the other side of the room, where Marjorie sits.
Marjorie beams, pleased to be the center of attention, just as I knew she would. I’ve only met Seth’s sister a couple of times, but she struck me as shallow and pretentious. I figured she’d like having everyone’s eyes on her and on the man sitting next to her, her son, mega-superstar Caleb Lawson. Her husband, Ben, sits meekly behind his wife and child.
“I’ll end with a toast to my mother and Seth. I’m so happy that you found each other. Here’s to a life filled with endless love. Cheers!”
I raise my glass high above my head and bring it to my lips, taking a sip of white wine. The alcohol washes away any remaining nerves.
Polite applause follows me back to my seat next to Mom.
She leans over and gives me a soft, perfumed kiss on the cheek. “That was wonderful, honey. Thank you.”
I nod, knowing it’s a compliment that she asked me, out of her three children, to give the speech. But really, I’m the obvious choice. Compared to my brothers, Brandon and Teddy, I’m the most stable. The most likely not to be overly stiff and formal like Brandon and not to be too informal and make inappropriate jokes like Teddy.
I glance at the place card in front of my mother’s seat. It reads, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. Now we don’t even share a last name, my mother and me. It’s official. She’s moved on, and I’m still here. Stuck. Ever since her engagement, I worry that she’ll keep moving on and leave me behind. That I’ll lose her, too.
As best man, Caleb is up next to speak. His presence tonight has added an extra sense of excitement to the wedding. The guests have spent as much time gawking at his table as they have looking at the bride and groom.
The crowd hushes, watching him saunter up to the stage. Every eye is trained on him, reverent.
Most celebrities are disappointing when you see them in real life. You realize they aren’t as tall as you expected or that they’ve been photoshopped on the magazine covers.
Not Caleb Lawson.
He’s just as handsome in person as he is on the movie screen. He has every attractive feature you can think of: piercing blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones, a full pouty mouth. His hair is the color of sunshine. Like the hazy kind that warms your skin on a tropical beach. Not to mention the muscles. Good grief, those sculpted muscles.
It’s all a bit ridiculous, really. That one person should get such a bounty of hotness. Not fair to the rest of us mere mortals.
Microphone in hand, Caleb smiles easily, brilliantly. His teeth are unnaturally white and straight. He’s hard to look away from. Something shines out of him beyond his unbelievable good looks. You can see it on the screen when he acts, and it’s even more apparent here, when he stands before us. A real-life flesh and blood star.
I’m not the only one who feels it. Women fan themselves in the crowd, and men sit up straighter, smoothing their hair over to the left, just like Caleb’s.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’ve never believed in the idea of celebrity adoration. As far as I’m concerned, movie stars put their pants on one leg at a time, same as the rest of us.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Caleb begins, voice low and husky. He pauses, runs his hand through his hair, and swallows. Then his smile widens, and he cracks a joke. “I know it’s been an emotional day. The cake is already in tiers.”
The crowd laughs uproariously, like he’s on a stand-up comedy special.
Which he’s not.
“My name is Caleb. Seth is my uncle and godfather. But he’s more than that. Seth is my mentor, cheerleader, and conscience. I’m honored that he chose me to stand beside him on this momentous day. The day that he marries his best friend.”
The guests all sigh out an “aww,” and Caleb glances around the room, smiling sweetly, as if their response is unexpected and charming.
I scoff internally, not understanding why I’m the only one who sees it. That every word out of Caleb’s mouth, every quirk of his eyebrow, every gesture of his long-fingered hand is calculated to bring out the most emotional reaction from his audience.
The man is a multi-award-winning actor, for Christ’s sakes. Standing in front of a crowd, selling a story, acting. This is what he was raised to do since he was five years old.
Caleb continues. “Preparing this speech has gotten me thinking a lot about love. True love. What does it look like? What does it feel like? Now, I’m obviously no expert, as the tabloids have shown repeatedly.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating laugh, and the crowd laughs along with him.
“After some thought, what I came up with is that true love is when someone loves you, even on the days that they don’t like you. It’s when someone is willing to stand by your side when you are on the top of the world and when the world has crushed you under its heel.”
“It’s someone who will be there with you for the big things—weddings, birthdays, funerals—and the small things too, taking out the trash, remembering if you prefer tea or coffee. Someone who will take care of you when you are sick or when your feelings are hurt. Someone to kiss away all those casual cruelties that happen in everyday life. Someone who shines a light into your darkness, and you do the same for them. That’s what I think about when I say true love.”
“Almost a year ago, when Seth first told me that he had found true love, I’m going to be honest with you, I was skeptical. I mean, the man is in his late forties and has never been married. Talk about a red flag!”
More laughter.
“But once I saw them together, Seth and Melinda. Once I saw the way they complement each other’s personalities. Well, I don’t need to tell you all, because it’s apparent from the way they look at each other.”
He gestures over at Mom and Seth, his eyes shining, like maybe, just maybe, he might shed a tear.
But he doesn’t.
“This, ladies and gentlemen,” pausing dramatically, he says. “This is true love, and I’m so incredibly grateful that my uncle has found it. May we all be so lucky. Cheers to the happy couple.”
The room swells with applause, so loud that it makes the polite clapping I received seem pathetic by comparison.
Caleb grins widely, basking in his moment of glory, before he drains the last of the amber liquor in his glass and struts back to his parents.
The toasts complete, the DJ strikes up some lively music and couples make their way onto the dance floor. Mom and Seth go with them.
I return to Jenny at her table. “It’s not fair,” I gripe to her. “How am I supposed to compete with Caleb Freaking Lawson? Of course, he’s going to give a better toast than I am. He probably had one of his screenwriter friends compose the entire speech for him.”
I flop into the seat next to her, looking out the window at the cloudless summer sky. This close to the ocean, the Los Angeles smog gets swept away by the breeze off the water. Palm trees sway outside, teased by that same wind.
Jenny’s not listening, too busy staring past me, her eyes wide. “He’s coming over here,” she says in a breathy whisper, her voice so strangled that I glance over to confirm she’s still breathing.
She is. Just barely.
I lift my gaze to the man that has her so excited.
Sure enough, Caleb is walking straight toward us, his eyes fixed on me.
He marches to our table, then stays there, looming over us. I met him briefly before the ceremony, so he knows who I am, but he hasn’t spoken with Jenny yet. I make quick introductions.
When he shakes my best friend’s hand, she stares up at him unblinking, her mouth hanging open, awestruck. “H—h, h—i, hi. Hello. Hey,” Jenny stutters out. I can practically see her brain melting into a puddle of goo. She holds onto his hand for an uncomfortably long time.
My gaze moves to the doors of the ballroom, where two burly men stand with their hands clasped in front of them. Caleb’s bodyguards. Seth had warned us they would be here tonight.
I wonder what it’s like to be famous, to never truly be alone. I can’t imagine it’s very pleasant, but it’s all that Caleb has ever known. He must be used to it. Who knows? He probably likes it.
The bodyguards watch Jenny’s interaction with Caleb closely. As she refuses to let go of his hand, they start to inch toward us. I’m about to warn Jenny when Caleb gently extracts himself from her grip.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says smoothly. Then he turns to me. “My mom said I should ask you to dance, seeing how we’re family now.”
I raise an eyebrow at his request. “Do you usually do what your mother tells you?”
His mouth twitches into a tiny smirk. “Most of the time. I’ve found it makes my life much easier.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, slouching casually, striking a pose like a model on the runway at fashion week. I can’t decide if he does that on purpose or if he’s truly unaware.
“Well, you can tell her that you asked and I declined,” I say primly.
His laugh is startling in its loudness. He squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back, exposing the long column of his neck, with all of its smooth tan skin. He laughs like I said something hilarious.
I glare at him, annoyed. I wasn’t trying to be funny.
The laugh settles down to a chuckle. “That’s cute. You obviously haven’t spent much time with my mom if you think that’s going to satisfy her.”
He holds his hand out to me, letting it hang in the air between us, waiting for me to take it.
I don’t.
His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying the challenge I’m giving him. “I’m going to stand here until you say yes, so you might as well give in.”
I hate giving in.
“Look, our moms are united against us.” Caleb nods his head toward the other side of the room.
I follow the motion, and, sure enough, my mom stands next to Marjorie. They’re staring openly at us. My mom’s giving me a pointed glare. I can almost hear her voice in my ear, telling me to “behave.”
Fine.
It’s her wedding day.
I won’t ruin it by making a scene. I take Caleb’s hand and rise from my seat.
Leaving an envious Jenny behind, we go to the dance floor. It’s a slow song, one that’s been on the radio a lot recently.
Caleb tilts his head, listening. “I like this song.” He sighs, as if the music pleases him.
He pulls me into him, guiding my arms up around his neck and placing his hands on my waist. I have to rise onto my toes to reach his height. His touch is warm, hot even. Which is weird because a shiver runs through my body at that moment.
We sway together, no fancy dance moves. Caleb is easy to dance with. He leads with expertise, gliding past the other dancers with a firm hand that slides from my waist to the small of my back, drawing me closer. He smells like a mixture of expensive alcohol, scotch or bourbon, and even more expensive cologne, with an undertone of something spicy. Cinnamon, maybe?
After a minute, he bends his head down, so I can hear him over the music. “I heard you’re a doctor. That’s impressive. Congratulations.” He takes a deep inhalation and breathes it back out, tickling my ear.
“Thanks.” I readjust my hands around his neck, loosening my fingers and then retightening them for a better grip.
In the past ten years, I’ve only seen a handful of movies. I’ve been too busy studying for medical school. But I did see one of his movies. It was a summer blockbuster. I don’t fully remember the plot, just that he was a detective and there were a lot of exciting car chases and explosions.
A specific scene stood out to me. It’s where he’s pulling himself out of the pool. Water pouring off chiseled abs and down his perfect body…
“I heard you’re an actor,” I say, pretending like I wasn’t just picturing his movie... and his body.
He nods, then chuckles darkly when he realizes I won’t congratulate him the way he did me.
There’s a beat of silence, which he fills by saying, “The ceremony was nice.”
“Mmm. Yes. Lovely,” I murmur absently, my mind returning to my dad. I wonder what my parents’ wedding day was like. What songs were played? It was back in the 1990s, so probably some horrible grunge music. Did they dance together like this, my mother and father?
Caleb must sense my distraction. He pulls apart, just a little, and stares down at me with a quizzical expression, like he’s searching for the things I’m not saying.
Up this close, his eyes are aqua blue. Such an unusual color that I search for the rim of contacts, wondering which parts of him are real and which are fake. No contacts that I can see. I squirm slightly, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.
“That was an excellent performance you gave earlier.” Without warning, he spins me out away from him. Our arms stretch out taut between us, and then he twitches his wrist and I come back to him, spinning like a top. I crash into his hard chest as he pulls me close.
“Excuse me?” My eyes snap up to his, taking a moment to focus since I’m dizzy from all that twirling.
“The toast you gave. You’re a good actress.”
I bristle, offended. “That wasn’t a performance. Those words were heartfelt and honest.” I pull farther away from Caleb, reestablishing the space between us.
“Riiight,” he says, making it sound like he means the exact opposite. Like he doesn’t believe me. “You can’t fool an actor, you know. I can tell you aren’t thrilled about your mom marrying my uncle. Is it because you enjoyed having her all to yourself?”
What. The. Heck.
The audacity of this guy.
“First of all, I’ve never had my mom to myself. I’m the middle child. I always had to share her with my brothers and my dad. And then, after my dad died, I shared her with her work. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if I did have any reservations about this wedding, it would have nothing to do with Seth.”
I don’t understand why I continue. I should stop my rant right there, but the words keep pouring out of me, like they’re tired of being bottled up all night. “It’s just hard to see her move on. Thirty years ago, my parents said forever in their wedding vows. My dad believed it, but it turned out that his forever was a lot shorter than Mom’s, and that makes me sad.”
To my horror, there’s a prickling in the corners of my eyes, as tears gather there. I look to the ground, hiding them. Caleb’s hand is under my chin, lifting it. We’re not dancing anymore. Just standing still, staring at each other in the middle of the dance floor.
He’s a talented actor, but the sympathy and remorse on his face as he gazes down at me looks awfully sincere. It spears me, the way he’s looking at me right now. Like he sees me.
“I’m sorry. I’m an ass,” he says plainly, like it’s a universal truth.
Which, for some reason, makes me laugh, because my emotions are all over the place tonight. Because in all the ways I imagined this wedding going, Caleb Lawson apologizing to me and saying he’s an ass wasn’t one of them.
It’s the first time I’ve laughed in a long, long while, and it leaves me feeling lighter. Like all my worries are bubbles in a champagne glass, rising to the top to burst and float away into the night.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him. “It’s fine.”
The song ends, as if it thinks we’ve said enough, and we pull apart.
“Well.” There’s a hint of awkwardness. “Thanks for the dance.” He gives me the tiniest bow.
“Yeah. See you around.” I don’t know why I say that. He’s a busy man. I’ll probably never see him again.
We go our separate ways.
I very deliberately don’t think about Caleb Lawson again for the rest of the night. And I’m sure he doesn’t think about me either…