Chapter 13
13
C uriosity draws both of us to the kitchen, where we find Javier posing nonchalantly against one of the counters. One elegant eyebrow arches. “I do hope I was interrupting something?” He smirks with an annoying level of charm.
Max doesn’t bother to respond, instead countering with, “So, what arrangements have you made?”
Javier straightens, becoming all business. “You have a five o’clock appointment with the judge, followed by a six p.m. press conference on the courthouse steps.”
Max scowls while my eyes widen.
“A press conference? Why?”
Javier smiles benignly down at me. “Because a famously reclusive author is tying the knot with his sweet young editor. The world loves a love story.”
My eyes narrow. “No, that wouldn’t be a good enough reason. Not for Max, not for you.”
Javier dramatically clutches his chest. “You wound me with your words, young Jenna. However, you are correct. This is simply the fastest and most efficient way to make sure all the cockroaches are fully informed, and don’t dismiss the news as a ruse.”
He’s as bad as Max for ambiguity. Maybe they really are related.
Javier inclines his head towards the corner of the room. “There’s a dress in the big box for you.”
I blink. “How could you possibly know my size? Or taste?”
His smirk broadens. “I have a lot of… experience. As for your taste, does it matter? It’s the dress or jeans, correct?”
I shake my head. “No, I still have my office wardrobe.”
Javier’s smile is condescending. “Go try it on and then you can decide if you prefer the designer dress to discount separates.”
Grinding my teeth, I retrieve the big box and head out of the room. I’m sure it was all a ploy to get me out of earshot. For what discussion, I can’t imagine, but I’m determined not to like this dress.
Except it’s beautiful. Filmy silk lace with invisible seams floats over a silk slip. It’s incredibly simple in shape, with no ruffles or extras, but that means every inch has to be perfect. And it is. I hold my breath as I slip it over my head in the bathroom and then open my eyes to stare in the mirror.
A bride looks back at me. Albeit one with mussed hair. My cheeks are delicately pink and my eyes bright with excitement. Okay, Javier knows his way around women’s fashion. I can give him that one.
With trembling hands, I fix my hair until it’s relatively smooth and add a bit of lip gloss. I don’t own much in the way of makeup, and most of that is still in the packed boxes Javier brought from New York. After all, I thought I’d be haranguing an author for two weeks in the woods.
Finished, I regard my bare feet. My boots aren’t going to work. Determined to rectify this without insulting the dress, I float back to the kitchen. Javier apparently hasn’t moved, but Max is nowhere to be seen.
Javier notes my questing glances. “He’s gone to beautify himself. I take it this means you like the dress?”
I scowl at him before admitting, “Yes, it’s beautiful. But I need shoes.”
His smile is beatific. “In the bag.”
Puzzled, I return to the large shopping bag in the corner where the dress came from. I can’t recall seeing any shoe boxes, but it’s possible I missed one. There are no shoe boxes, but there is a smaller cloth bag. Undoing the drawstring, I pull out a pair of Edwardian white leather pumps. Rolled up in each one is a filmy stocking with a decorative rosette garter. Blushing, I retreat to the pantry. I’m not sure why, but somehow this feels private.
I’m just fastening the strap button on my left shoe when Max’s voice booms out. “Where’s Jenna?”
And I thought Max’s author headshot was amazing. When I emerge from the pantry having attended to my new shoes and stockings, he’s standing in the kitchen dressed like a king of Wall Street — while glancing around, bewildered. When he catches sight of me, he stops all movement and simply stares. I kinda do the same thing.
Until there’s an audible sigh of exasperation. “Children! You can stare into each other’s eyes after the ceremony and press conference.”
Max breaks his gaze from mine to glare at his friend, but there’s not much heat in it. Then we all troop out of the house to Javier’s rented vehicle, as it will more easily hold three people. I’m ushered to the backseat, but Max keeps twisting from the front to look at me. There’s a light in his eye that has me feeling slightly breathless.
There’s nothing particularly memorable about the ceremony. The little courthouse is old and drafty while the judge’s chambers are also old but stuffy with the extra heaters running. The judge doesn’t waste time on flowery phrases — he’s all business as if he, too, is eager to escape the heat. Javier, along with one of the clerks, serves as a witness. Rings are produced from somewhere and my eyes stay glued to my claim on Max, resting so easily on his finger. How did this happen again? I pinch myself.
“Jenna? Why are you doing that?” Max rumbles next to me as we turn to leave the judge’s chambers.
“Because I can’t believe this is real,” I hiss. “A week ago, I was excited about meeting you. I didn’t come up here anticipating marriage.”
Max chuckles. “You were excited?”
I nod, now slightly embarrassed, but my new husband turns my head back with a single finger.
“You are more than I deserve, little one.”
“Agreed.” I mock sniff with my nose in the air, but I can’t keep the smile from breaking on my face.
Javier sighs. Again.
Outside, I’m surprised to see the steps of the courthouse transformed in our absence. There’s a podium with several microphones attached, along with a small milling crowd of journalists and camera people. Not a ton, maybe thirty or so altogether, but that’s way more than I thought a small rural town in Maine could produce. It all becomes clear when I notice the logo for a Boston TV station. They must have broken all sorts of speed limits to get up here so fast.
Javier delivers a prepared statement like he’s a top tier attorney. I’ve no idea what he does for an actual living, but I’m pretty sure this aspect is an act.
Then he gestures for Max to take his place. That’s when the crowd perks up with interest.
“Is this a ploy to stay in the country legally?” shouts one of the reporters. Similar questions start flying fast and thick.
Max’s jaw clenches and I stare up at him because I hadn’t even considered this angle. So why are these reporters doing that now? If he wasn’t legal, they had years to bring up the question. I glance over at Javier, but his frown is furrowed ever so slightly, like he hadn’t anticipated this direction either.
“My citizenship was confirmed more than ten years ago, ladies and gentlemen. Why the sudden interest?”
There’s some slight consternation in the crowd, as if they’re not quite sure where the question came from. But now I have questions. Max doesn’t like to travel because of his unique, whatever that is. So how did he get here from Europe? I bite my lip because asking those now would set off the powder keg in more ways than one.
The questions fizzle from there. I don’t think Max and Javier were expecting anything deep, this was always intended to be more of a photo op.
Just to annoy Javier, Max joins me in the backseat for the trip back. He’s too big to fit comfortably, but he holds my hand and periodically raises it to his lips for a soft kiss. All of this with his eyes laughing and trying to catch Javier’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. It’s not really anything to do with me, but I don’t mind because the muttered Portuguese curse words from up front are worth it.
“I’m going to leave you two to your honeymoon activities just as soon as we pull up to the front door. Be quick, because the car may not fully come to a stop,” Javier snarls.
I glance at Max for an explanation. “What’s got into him?”
Max shrugs. “He’s wishing it was him with his girl. The one he hasn’t even told he likes.” His voice is louder than mine, with a hint of exasperation, like an annoyed older brother.
Javier’s retort dies on his lips when we pull up to the house to find the front door slightly ajar. Everything is silent and there’s no sign of anyone being present. How long ago did they leave?
“Kiki!” I shout in a panic, looking around the front yard for any sign of her without success.