Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
R enic and Mark stood at the front door and watched the loudmouth DJ reload his equipment into the van.
“You know that guy?” Renic asked.
Mark shook his head. “He’s probably from Rochester. Maybe Syracuse.”
“Does he really have connections?” Renic leaned against the doorframe, casually watching the man as he got into his van, still vomiting swear words.
Mark shrugged. “The dude’s probably all talk.”
“I’ll keep an eye out. Just in case.”
“Doubt he tries anything once people start to show,” Mark said. “Can’t believe he threatened Lizzie like that. I’ve seen her take down men a lot bigger than him with just a glare.”
Renic nodded appreciatively. “I thought Della was going to kick his ass. She takes self-defense classes for exercise. She’s getting pretty good.”
Mark raised an eyebrow at that bit of information. “Really. ”
They watched the van pull out of the driveway and take off down the road. Renic suppressed the urge to follow the guy to whatever hole he crawled out of and convince him to never leave it again. “Well.”
“Yeah.” Mark nodded.
They returned to the ballroom, which was now filled with a troop of eight college students in uniforms. Lizzie paced from one side of the room to the other with binder in hand, dodging people and tables and chairs while issuing orders with a voice that carried over the noise. “Della, can you put the lattice panel back in place? Stevie, that table needs to shift to the left. No, your other left. Girls, get started on the place settings. Carter, can you check the water in the vases? No more than half full, okay? Everybody, listen up! Stay away from the cake corner!”
Renic finally managed to intercept her near the newly replaced lattice panel.
Lizzie’s eyes lit up when she saw him. “Renic, do you think Jacob is available for a last-minute gig?”
He saw exactly where she was going with this request. He nodded. “I’m sure he can spare some time for a wedding reception. Do you need equipment too?”
Stress lines wrinkled her forehead. “I only have one small speaker for karaoke parties. I can move the piano in here, but we’d still need mics and speakers.”
He pulled out his phone. “I’m on it.”
It took two texts to Jacob and one call to the Still & Grill to get it all arranged. When he hung up, he found Lizzie standing with her feet planted and arms spread out in front of the cake while Mark and Carter moved a large potted plant toward the window.
“Lizzie,” he called out, and waved the phone at her for emphasis. “He’ll be here in an hour. ”
The smile on her face was a tangible thing that made him want to sweep her up in his arms and have his way with her. Since the room was now filled with people, he settled for a salute.
“Great!” After a few more instructions to Mark and Carter, she started walking toward him.
He met her halfway. “This is like watching an ant colony.”
She glanced around like a proud parent. “They’re going above and beyond today.”
“So are you,” he told her. “I can see why you like this. It suits you.”
“It’s everything I loved about being a manager for my sisters, without the stuff I hated.”
He hadn’t known there was anything she disliked about her life back then. Whatever it was, she hid it well. “What did you hate about it?”
Lizzie grimaced. “The sleazy backstage leeches. The crowds constantly swarming my sisters like they were treasure they got to take home at the end of the day. Sometimes it felt like all I did was fight them off.”
“It’s different here, though. Right?” He wished he could take away whatever memory had just cast a shadow over her face.
“Here, I go from one happy moment to the next. It’s nice. A lot less stress.”
“You don’t miss the excitement? Not even a little?”
Lizzie watched Carter and Mark navigate the placement of the big potted plant. “I miss my sisters. The music. And I missed…never mind. I should get back to work.”
“Wait.” He put a hand on her arm to stop her from running away. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I was going to say I missed you, too. We had some good times, backstage.” She looked at him, then glanced away. “It was a long time ago.”
He leaned closer to brush his lips across hers. “We’ve had some good times this week, too. I wouldn’t mind revisiting Lookout Point. Maybe tonight, after the wedding?”
Her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of red, and a sly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I can’t help but wonder how many other people will have the same idea. Everyone feels romantic after a wedding.”
He grinned. “I’m sure there are other places for us to explore.”
“Okay, Romeo, enough of that.” Lizzie pushed lightly at his chest. “I really have to get back to work.”
“Yes ma’am.” He laughed. “I’ll make sure Jacob doesn’t need anything.”
“Thanks, Renic.” She flashed him a grateful look, then cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted, “Thirty minutes to battle stations, everybody. Thirty minutes.”
Renic spent the time leading up to the ceremony trying to stay out of the way. The level of activity was similar to a concert. The guests were fans, and the staff were roadies. The star of the show was Lizzie. She orchestrated all of it with a gentle calm that defied chaos.
When the music started, Renic and Della hid out in the lounge to spy on the wedding through the windows.
Lizzie hovered on the back porch with the bridal party, watching over the backyard ceremony and guests like the conductor of an orchestra in reverse. She nodded at a young woman dressed in a simple black gown, who began to play the violin. Groomsmen stepped into place from the cottage side of the lawn.
Lizzie turned to the people assembled on the porch with her and sent the flower girl, the bridesmaids, then the bride and her father down the aisle with a smile and firm nod for each.
They stepped one by one off the porch onto a white carpet that led the way to the arch that overlooked the lake.
“It’s so beautiful,” Della whispered. “A real-life fairy-tale. Look how sweet the flower girl looks. The groom looks really happy.”
He murmured a sound of agreement. She sounded almost wistful.
The minister took his place in front of the happy couple. “Dear friends, we are gathered here today…”
Renic’s attention wandered back to Lizzie. He’d never given much thought to getting married before, but now he pictured himself standing up there under the archway with Lizzie by his side. He lost himself in a daydream of waking up next to Lizzie every morning.
Della nudged his elbow and pointed. “Look at the ring bearer. He’s flirting with the flower girl. Isn’t that adorable?”
The little boy flipped the pillow in his hands back and forth while the girl giggled.
If it were Renic’s wedding, he’d keep the actual ring in his own pocket, just in case.
He sighed impatiently to himself and dragged his thoughts back to the reason he was here. He and Della were alone, and she was in a decent mood.
He glanced sideways at her. “Have you decided yet?”
She started as if he’d interrupted deep thoughts, and the happy smile slid off her face. “No.”
He looked out the window at the wedding. “Nate’s coming tomorrow.”
“I know.” Della chewed on her lip. “Are you going through with it? Are you really going to sign over the company? ”
He waited a minute or two before answering. It wasn’t just about Della anymore. It was also about Lizzie, his business, and his life. There wasn’t an easy answer to such a complex problem. Della was happiest on stage, and Lizzie was happiest when her sisters were happy.
However he looked at the situation, it all boiled down to the fact that he cared about the Bellamys—all of them.
The minister smiled at the groom. “Do you, Scott, take this woman…”
It was time to focus on the simple facts of the situation. Renic kept his voice low and calm. “Della, if you don’t come back, I won’t have a choice.”
She turned away from the window. “This sucks. The whole world is on my shoulders right now. It’s not fair.”
“Not the whole world. Just our collective future happiness, that’s all.” His lips twitched. “No pressure.”
“You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”
Renic looked at her with a straight face. “You’ve met my parents. Are you surprised?”
“I mean it.” She glared at him. “Stop twisting the roller coaster of my life.”
“I’m on the ride with you, Della. Like it or not, we all are.”
He returned his attention to the wedding just in time to hear the minister say, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Let your adventure together begin with a kiss.”
The couple beamed at him, then at each other. They kissed while the audience rose to their feet and applauded. The cheers grew louder, then startled, confused shouts filled the air.
A ripple of concern traveled up Renic’s spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
In a surreal moment, the guests all turned in unison to the right. A woman in front screamed. Several chairs fell over as guests scrambled to get out of the way of something.
One moment it was a romantic evening wedding, the next a wave of wedding crashers broke over the lawn, led by two men carrying serious-looking cameras.
Adrenaline and dread shot through Renic. He swore and bolted from the room with Della close behind him.
Outside, he heard them chant, “Della! Della! Della!”
“Oh, shit!” Della hissed. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Renic fished the key to his room out of his pocket. “The Rose Room. Go! Lock the door behind you. If they see you, we’ll never get them out of here.”
“Going.” She ducked her head and ran for the stairs.
“Della! Della! Della!”
Renic reached the back door just as Lizzie threw it open. Her eyes were wide with panic.
“Where is she?” She looked around, frantic.
“She’s upstairs.” Renic looked behind her. The two paparazzi snapped rapid-fire shots of the crowd. The rest of the newcomers appeared to be fans. “Only two cameras so far. We can handle this.”
“This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now. Dammit!” Lizzie stared at the chaos with wide eyes. “The bride! Oh my God, the poor bride.”
He tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Lizzie, we can handle this.”
Determination chased some of the panic off her face. “Yes. Yes, we can do this. We have to get the wedding party inside and lock the doors. Carrie!”
“Just a sec!” Carrie shouted from the kitchen.
Two students operating the buffet station stared at the confusion like startled deer until Lizzie stepped in front of them .
“You two! Lock the front and side doors. Now.”
They jumped into action.
Carrie hurried out of the kitchen, caught sight of the backyard, and swore. “Where did all those people come from?”
“Crashers.” Lizzie waved frantically at the front door. “Lock it all down. Curtains closed. Call 9-1-1.”
“On it!” Carrie pulled a phone out of her apron pocket and dialed as she rushed back to the kitchen.
Lizzie tapped the headphone in her ear. “All hands to the backyard. Get the wedding party in the house. Then the guests. Do not bring anyone that’s not dressed for a wedding inside, and don’t engage with any of them. Keep it calm. Mark and Carter, you run interference on the sidewalk. Renic and I will hold the door. Go, people. Fast, fast, fast.”
Renic stepped in front of her before she could open the back door. “Let me go first. If they see you, they’ll think it’s Della. They’ll surge.”
She nodded. “Right. Go.”
Renic stepped onto the back porch and took up position next to one of the big tables from the rehearsal dinner just in time to see Mark and Carter push through the crowd with the bride and groom. The bride carried the bottom of her dress in her arms and looked terrified. The groom guided her forward with his arm protectively around her shoulders.
Several fans followed in their wake. Renic waved the bride and groom into the house, then stepped onto the path behind them and held his arms wide, like a bouncer. “Private property. You’re trespassing.”
A short blonde woman pushed a sign at him that read, Bell Babe 4 Life . “She’s here! Let us in! Let us in!”
“Get off the porch. Now. ”
More fans surged up behind her, including one paparazzo Renic thought he recognized from New York.
The man was tall, built like a linebacker, and used to working in a crowd. He dodged around the crazed fans, the camera constantly snapping. He caught sight of Renic and raised his chin. “Dude, you can’t hide her forever. Send her out. Give us something.”
Two servers led the parents of the bride and groom up the steps to the deck. The bridesmaids, each one attached to a groomsman, followed behind them.
Renic stepped in front of the camera and gestured for them to get in the house. “Go, go, go.”
They rushed past him.
The paparazzo tried to follow, but Renic managed to cut him off. “She’s not here. This is private property. The cops are on the way. If you don’t get out now, I’ll make sure you spend the night in jail.”
“There’s no way you’re here and she ain’t,” the paparazzo said. He looked past Renic. “That’s Lizzie Bellamy. Della’s here, and I ain’t leaving until I get the shot. They’re offering top dollar for this one.”
Lizzie ushered more wedding guests through the back door.
Mark and Carter ran past Renic and plunged into what was left of the wedding. Chairs that had been set up in neat rows were now scattered tripping hazards. Twinkle lights fell drunkenly off the bushes and trees. The archway leaned to the left, in danger of falling over.
Renic encountered crazed fans too many times to count, but usually it was outside of an arena or in a parking lot or alleyway. It was easier to group them up and control the situation in those spaces. There were no boundaries to the backyard of the inn. No fence. Nowhere to corral them .
He knew from experience that diehard fans wouldn’t leave until they were convinced Della Bellamy was somewhere else. He swore several choice words as he continued to shove back anyone who looked underdressed. He’d lost sight of the second paparazzo, which worried him.
Lizzie tapped his shoulder. “The last two are coming now.”
Mark and Carter plowed through the cardboard-waving fiends with two younger women in their wake. One limped while the other supported her, and both looked shell-shocked.
Renic waited for them to pass, then backed toward the door, keeping himself between the mob and the house. The crowd sensed the end was near and pushed forward, led by the cameraman.
Lizzie grabbed his shoulder. “They’re in. Come on.”
Renic tripped backward into the house, guided by Lizzie’s hand. She slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.
The paparazzo pressed his camera lens to the window, while several fans beat at the door and cried for Della.
Carrie pulled the curtains closed to a chorus of outraged shouts from outside. “You better clear out. The cops are coming to arrest every single one of you.”
Wedding guests and servers packed the hallway. Everyone looked stunned and confused. Voices rose inside as they all started to talk at once.
Beside him, Lizzie panted like she’d run a race. Her hair had fallen out of the careful bun she’d styled it in, and her jacket pocket looked ripped. “Jesus. Oh, sweet Jesus.”
He squeezed her arm. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m okay. I think. Is anybody hurt?”
He realized she wasn’t talking to him, but to her team via her headset .
A woman in the crowd somewhere called out, “Hey! Is it true? Is Della Bellamy really here? Are you related to her?”
“Her name’s Lizzie. She’s that Bellamy?” someone else asked.
Renic grimaced. Before he could decide whether to confess or keep up the lie and hope Della didn’t wander downstairs, Lizzie called out, “Is anyone hurt?”
She watched the crowd, ignoring the shouts from outside the door.
“I twisted my ankle,” a young voice on the left said.
“I knocked one of ’em upside the head pretty good,” an older man on the right shouted out. “Serve ’em right too.”
A middle-aged man in a tux, father of the bride or groom, Renic assumed, pushed through the crowd. “What the hell is going on out there?”
Sobs broke out from somewhere in the crowd.
“Why did they do this?” someone—the bride, he thought—cried.
“I called the police.” A man on the right waved his phone in the air.
One of the boys in uniform pulled aside the curtain on the front window. “There’s a man pointing a camera at the door. And more people coming up the drive with signs.”
Lizzie held up her hands. “Please, everyone. If you’re not hurt, could you go into the ballroom? Sit down and make yourselves comfortable. Stay away from the windows. Please. The police will be here soon.”
Renic added his voice to hers. “Complimentary champagne to toast the happy couple will be served in just a few minutes. Everyone, take your seats.”
Most of the group reluctantly turned and moved into the ballroom, except for a cluster of attendants who had circled around the bride and groom by the buffet and bar. As the crowd thinned out, the bride’s sobs became more pronounced.
Renic stayed in the hall with Lizzie to make sure everyone went where they were supposed to go. He caught sight of Mark and gestured to him to stand guard at the back door.
“How did they find out?” Lizzie flexed her hands into fists. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line of anger. “Do you think that damn DJ told them?”
Renic pulled out his phone. He’d had it on silent for the wedding, but now it was lit up with messages he hadn’t noticed coming in. “Or his kids. Wouldn’t be surprised.”
He had two texts from Morgan. Della ’ s splashing. They know.
He groaned. If he’d paid attention to his phone he would have been able to stop the wedding before the mob had shown up.
Jacob had sent three messages. Can ’ t park. What ’ s with the crowd? Della Bellamy’s here?
Renic glanced up the stairs as they passed and saw Della standing at the top. He shook his head at her and mouthed, “Stay there.”
Della frowned, but didn’t move.
Another text pinged from Jacob. Can ’ t get through.
“Dammit,” Renic swore.
Without Jacob, there wouldn’t be a reception. There wouldn’t be anything to distract the wedding guests from rehashing the invasion over and over and over.
“What?” Lizzie glanced up from her own phone.
“Jacob’s trapped outside. He can’t get in.”
Her eyes widened as she absorbed that information.
“I’m sorry. I should have seen this coming.” He searched her face for any trace of the hurt and anger that should be there .
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”
They were the words he never thought he’d hear from Lizzie. He put a hand on her shoulder, grateful that she didn't think he’d somehow been responsible for this fiasco. “We’ll fix this.”
“How?” There was an edge of despair in her voice that he didn't like at all.
“I don't know yet, but you’re not alone here, Lizzie. I’m here. Plus Mark, Carrie, Carter, and the rest of the crew.”
She opened her eyes, and he saw the trust he'd waited to see for three long years shining in them. “We’ll fix it. Together.”