Chapter 20
Noah
I should be panicking. I was meeting my wife’s parents for the first time… a wife that wasn’t really my wife. If anything, we basically just started dating.
And we only consummated said marriage last night. In the very rumpled bed just through the ajar french doors a mere few feet from where they stood.
But I wasn’t panicking. If anything, I felt oddly, inexplicably calm.
“Noah, these are my parents,” Rosa said carefully. “Victor Alvarez and Francesca Reyes. Mama, Apa… this is Noah.” Then she added under her breath, “ Please be nice .”
Francesca had already hugged me once, but as she launched forward for another, this time I was ready for her.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, returning her hug. From over her shoulder, Victor’s dark brown eyes latched onto mine.
He didn’t look mad, but he didn’t look particularly happy either. This man could play the World Series of Poker… and win .
Francesca released me from the hug and shifted over to hug her daughter as Victor stepped forward and extended his hand to me.
“Sir,” I said with a nod of my head as I took his hand.
“I always imagined the man who married my daughter would ask for my blessing.”
I’m not a small man. I don’t tend to shrink under anyone’s towering stare. But Victor Alvarez was an imposing man. And I was the one person standing between him and his daughter.
Another knock came from our door. “ Now who’s here?” Rosa muttered, crossing to answer it.
“I know it’s a little late, but I would still like your blessing,” I said to Victor, standing taller.
His eyes narrowed onto me.
As Rosa opened the door, Kristen came barging in, arms in the air. “Adopting a puppy! You two are geniuses…” she trailed off, realizing we weren’t alone. “Oh. I’m sorry I’m interrupting…”
“Well, sir?” I pressed. “Can we have your blessing?”
Still, he didn’t answer. When his narrowed eyes turned even stonier, Rosa huffed an exasperated sigh. “Apa!”
Sliding a glance at her to the left, his features softened, if only a little. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the small sound of running water caught my attention. Looking down, Victor shouted, “What the hell?”
Birdie stood at his feet, leg lifted, peeing on Senator Alvarez’s leg.
In this pissing match between men, Birdie wanted to let us know who was boss.
We managed to clean everything up pretty quickly and it wasn’t anything a few paper towels, a tide pen, and eventually a dry cleaning bill couldn’t handle.
Now, Francesca sat next to Rosa on the couch as I offered Victor a bottle of water and Kristen sat her ass right down in the middle of this family feud.
“You handle their PR?” Victor asked Kristen.
“I was working with Noah originally, but yes, now I work for them both as a unit.”
For the millionth time this morning, Victor’s eyes narrowed in thought. “But at the end of the day, he is your client. Not my daughter. He signs your checks. And if something were to happen, your job is to make sure Noah Blue comes out of this marriage looking like a hero. Not my daughter.”
Kristen shifted in her seat and I had to admit, I didn’t see her rattled very often. And she looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“I would never let that happen,” I chimed in, handing Francesca a Diet Coke before taking my seat on the other side of Rosa.
“Easy to say now when you’re currently happy and newly wed,” Victor said.
“I’d be happy to assign Rosa her own PR manager from my firm?—”
Rosa snorted. “That’s really not necessary?—”
“From your firm?” Victor interrupted her. “Your firm would still protect your most influential client which as I see it is likely to be the actor on major network television. Not a little counselor?—”
“ Psychologist ,” Rosa corrected him through clenched teeth.
“—who’s never in the public eye.” Victor kept right on talking, ignoring the fact that his daughter had said anything at all.
I curved my hand into Rosa’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If Rosa wants her own publicist, we can definitely arrange that,” I said.
“Great!” Victor clapped his hands together. “I’ll have my girl give you a call this afternoon?—”
“Rosa?” I asked, interrupting Victor. Which probably wasn’t the best idea, all things considered. But I wanted her to know this was her decision to make. “It’s totally your call. Not your father’s. Not mine. Not Kristen’s.”
A little smile touched her lips and she nodded at me. “I’ll think about it.”
“What is there to think about?” Victor threw his hands up. “It’s a no-brainer?—”
“I said I’ll think about it,” Rosa said, louder this time. “You did bring up some good points. I’m not ignoring that. I just don’t want to jump into a contract with anyone today .”
Victor sat back and regarded his daughter for a long, uncomfortable breath. But before he could press the matter further, Francesca leaned into Rosa, flailing her hands in the air. “Okay, okay, let me see the rings!”
“Well, ring . Singular,” Rosa said carefully, holding out her left hand to her mother. “It was last minute, so I didn’t really have an engagement ring?—”
“No engagement ring?” Francesca’s mouth formed into a pout and she looked over to me. “Well, there’s always time to change that.” Holding Rosa’s hand up to the light Francesca’s brows creased. “Huh. The stones aren’t diamonds?”
“You know,” Rosa said, wrenching her hand back, “We went with the rings we liked. Not the ones that were most impressive or whatever.”
Actually, we went with the nicest rings the man with the suitcase had after midnight on Friday outside the 24 hour chapel, but something told me that wasn’t going to win me any favors here.
“It’s refreshing,” Victor said. I blinked, surprised he would come to our defense at all. “And you can always say that you went for conflict-free stones.”
Rosa rolled her eyes. “There it is. The angle .”
“It’s naive to not consider it.”
“We’re getting off-topic!” Francesca said.
“There was a topic?” Rosa echoed, just as confused as me.
“ Yes ,” Francesca said. “Your father and I didn’t just come here for a quick trip to meet your husband.”
“You didn’t?” Rosa asked.
With a glance at Rosa, she looked just as confused as me.
California to New Hampshire was a long flight.
You could fly from Boston to Ireland in less time than it takes to go cross country in the US.
That’s a damn fact. The flight from Boston to Dublin is 6 hours.
LA to Boston? Just shy of 7 hours. And that doesn’t include the fact that New Hampshire is another two-hour drive after you land in Boston.
Point being, I doubted they came all this way just to say hi and meet me. Which only begged the question, why were they here?
“We came,” Francesca started to say, “to throw you… a wedding reception ! Ahhh!”
“Surprise!” Victor added.
Both of her parents were beaming. Proud.
Meanwhile, my heart plummeted to my stomach. “You want to throw us a wedding reception here ?” I asked. “In my quaint little hometown?”
Kristen leaned back in her chair, beaming. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered.
“Now the only real problem is there’s not enough hotels here for the amount of people we’re expecting,” Victor said.
“This place is beautiful. But other than The Maple Grove Inn, there’s only a couple other motels and some Airbnbs.
I saw that there is an artist residency center which apparently has a ton of housing.
I talked to them yesterday and since they’re in their off season, they’d be willing to rent us their cabins.
We could move the paparazzi to those cabins?—”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted. “How many people are you inviting to this?”
“Two hundred,” Victor said.
I rubbed my palm across my forehead, pressing my fingertips to the throbbing sensation beginning in my sinuses.
“ Two hundred , Apa? Without even talking to us?”
“That’s our guest list,” Victor said.
Francesca reached across Rosa to pat my knee. “Once we have Noah’s guest list, we can put a final head count together.”
“The two hundred doesn’t even include Noah’s people?” Rosa asked.
Victor snorted a laugh. “Honey, please. You know I have associates I have to invite. They likely won’t show up at all. It’s just for appearances.”
“Oh my God…” Rosa’s face fell to her hands.
Kristen was already on her feet, shooting off an email on her phone. “I’ll put a list together right now. Should I send it to you or?—”
“You can send it to the wedding coordinator we hired. I’ll send you her information,” Francesca said.
Suddenly the room was hustling and bustling. Everyone was on their feet, moving around, excitedly planning. Even Birdie was at Victor’s heels, barking and much to my dismay, Victor laughed, bending to pet my dog. “Don’t you get any ideas, Mister,” he joked.
Shell-shocked, Rosa and I sat beside each other on the couch.
“What have we done?” Rosa murmured quietly to me.
“To be fair, they might not even notice if we leave and don’t show up.”
Rosa snorted. “Oh you’d be surprised. Your job is to sit here and be silent until they need you to dance and pose for the cameras.”
I turned my glare to Kristen who was leaning over an iPad on the counter with Rosa’s parents. The three were made for each other. “Oh, I know. Do you think there’s any way out of this?”
Rosa shook her head slowly. “Doubtful. Short of running away.”
“On the plus side, it’s safe to say we have your father’s blessing, right?”
That comment earned me another snort. “You don’t know my father.
His only daughter got married on a whim with zero involvement, zero press, and zero fanfare.
This wedding is just for appearances. Winning his blessing could take years .
” She stared across the room at her parents, seeming lost in thought.
I nudged her shoulder with mine until it broke her concentration and she glanced at me, blinking large brown eyes at me. “As long as I have your blessing, that’s all I need.”
A small smile curved on her lush mouth. “You’ve got it, Tripp.”
“Glad to hear it, Dr. Tripp,” I teased her back.
Her eye roll was interrupted by Birdie hopping over to us, scratching at my calf. Before I could lift him into my lap, Rosa had already bent over and hugged him into her chest. “And I think we have Birdie’s blessing, too.”