TWENTY-THREE
THE FIRST BUS, or maybe two, had already gone.
There was no particular need for them to rush, or for Jane to be in a flap.
You know, it looked, from an outsider’s point of view, that she was in a flap.
With Jane the term was “organized chaos.” Her anxiety played out on her face, in her fidgeting, a need to move and be moving.
But inside, Jane knew exactly what she was doing and definitely had a plan.
Bringing their weddings together might’ve saved the woman from a breakdown. Doing this once rather than twice relieved some of the pressure. While her friend’s brain knew the script, her body burned calories cranking up the adrenaline.
Guests went left and right, closing off her view of Jane, but opening one of her other girls: Roux, Lilya, and Sway. Intriguing. Close quarters. Scrutiny going this way and that… Damn, the cat needed to be satisfied. Never one to miss an escapade, she went to join them.
“You three look like you’re brewing a caper.”
“Might be.”
“I want in,” she said. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re observing the talent. Trying to figure out if those two are together…”
From the nod at a couple standing close, touching, smiling, not quite comfortable, but close to it, she did her own pondering.
“Are they?” Lilya asked.
“I have no idea who those two people are,” she admitted.
That was sort of a common theme. Everyone was nice, polite, congratulatory. More faces were familiar than not. Though that didn’t mean she really knew them. A lot of Rouge and CollCom folk she may have seen in passing. No way had she conversed with all these people previously.
Telling the coordinator that her list consisted of seven people wasn’t a joke.
Outside their guy/girl posse, that honestly had been it.
She did work for, or with, Rouge and their various offshoots now.
Zairn’s colleagues were hers too. At some point, she’d corner him to ask how many names he knew.
Ugh, what was the point? This was Zairn, he’d know everyone’s names.
“And we’re trying to figure out which of our single girls we can hook up with the super hottie over there,” Roux said, twisting a little to bob her chin toward the corner.
Discreet was so unlike her. Hilarious that—wait. The super hottie…
Ah, interesting.
Leaving the ladies without a word, her eyes stayed set on the man propping up one of the perimeter columns.
He spotted her but didn’t react, which was probably why her smile did such a bad job of hiding itself.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Roxie said, stopping just in front of him. He hadn’t flinched. “You are alive! Alive and here. Didn’t expect that.” And from him, the unexpected was kind of a given. “Are you going to kiss me or say congratulations?”
“Hair thing makes you look like a diva.”
“Brooding in the corner makes you look like a terrorist,” she said and swept her hair from her shoulder. “And I am a diva now.”
“You always were.” Good thing she knew him well enough to recognize the joke through that deadpan expression. “Congratulations.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She steadied herself with a hand on his arm while pushing to her tiptoes to accept his kiss on her cheek. “Want to dance?”
Leveling his gaze over her head, he just kept on examining the crowd. “Don’t push it.”
“Okay, then come meet him.”
“I don’t want to meet him. Did I see that dickhead Porter around?”
“He’s not a dickhead and you may have done. He’s here. Along with a lot of other people. It’s not easy to keep track of thirteen hundred-odd guests. You didn’t sit with family.”
“I didn’t want to sit with family.”
Lips sealed, she inhaled through her nose and let the breath out slowly. “Always Sad Sack Sam.”
“I’m perfectly fine—why are you doing this in LA?”
Not so flat now, his confusion was almost affront as his focus went up and around the room again.
“Where should we have done it? Chicago?” she asked. “Not like I’ll believe you were sitting around there waiting for my wedding day. Wherever we did it, you would’ve had to travel. What am I talking about? You love traveling, especially if it’s in a direction opposite to your family.”
“I don’t like LA.”
“You don’t like anywhere.” Okay, that maybe wasn’t true. “I’m surprised you’ve ever been here. Have you ever been here?” Truthfully, he had probably been everywhere. “Why would you have cause to hang out in LA?”
“You quit your job.”
Was he just ignoring her completely? No change there then.
“I got a new job,” she declared, maintaining her smile.
“You moved a thousand miles.”
“Depends how you travel.”
“You left your girls.”
“They moved with me.”
“You left Porter.”
“Who you don’t even like and that was way before I met Zairn.” At least a couple of months. “He had nothing to do with it. It’s a little late to be voicing objections, don’t you think? Maybe if you called more, we could’ve had this conversation, oh, I don’t know, a year ago.”
And it was then, on softening just a fraction, that his scowl faded to concern and his eyes dropped to hers.
“You changed yourself, Talks-Alot. You remember your promise to me when I left?”
“Yes, I remember. And I didn’t change, I grew. If I am a different person now, I’m a better one, a happier one.” She snagged his hand and went in close. “I’ve never been happier, Sam. I love him. I love our life. He’s good for me and I’m good for him.”
“Hasn’t stopped him screwing around.”
“That was bullshit. He’s never cheated on me. The media stuff is, it’s pantomime. Come on, saying something out loud doesn’t make it true. You know I’d never stand for that shit with a guy if it was real. Trust me, it isn’t. He’s never even met that woman.”
“Then he has enemies.”
“Which come with the territory. Success often breeds contempt.” On a blink, her lips met with a startling truth. “Man, I sound all grown up.”
He breathed out a laugh and caught the back of her head to pull her against him. He held her there a second, pressing his mouth to the top of her head.
“You weren’t supposed to do that either, Talks-Alot.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“How would you know? You’ve been off radar for two years.”
Relaxing, he guided her head from his chest to read her gaze. “If that name didn’t still fit, hellfire would be raining down. And trust me, I’ve seen that shit, the LA pace isn’t it.”
She laughed. “You’d probably prefer hellfire.”
“Damn right I would.”
Time to try again. “Come meet him.”
“If he wants to meet me, he knows where I am.”
“He doesn’t actually.” She gestured behind and around without turning. “Did I mention there are several hundred people here?”
“Hangers-on.”
“Some, but most of them genuinely care about Zairn. Security was tight. You don’t have to worry about—”
“BKS,” he said, his gaze narrowing. “And Ryder Stone is here.”
“Yes.”
Was she surprised he knew security agencies? Kinda. Though if she’d thought about it for half a millisecond, she wouldn’t have been.
“Guest or working?”
“Both,” she said and inhaled. “Oh, hey, his wife will be here! He’s so neurotic about her safety.”
“Says the woman who’s supposed to be in love.”
“Hey, when my guy feared for my safety, Stone’s the guy he brought in to work with Ballard.”
“Sean Ballard. Heard about him. Never met him.”
Not far from Jane’s shadow, Ballard was all about security in the transfer of guests and probably up to his eyeballs with concerns and potential issues.
The man usually took a while to trust, but if Sam knew Ryder Stone and the Breckenridges, he might even be welcome to help.
Hmm, that could’ve been something to bring up in the planning stage, if, you know, Sam made his whereabouts known.
“You can meet Ballard now if—” Hold up. “You want to meet our security chief before you meet the groom?”
“Not got a lot in common with a playboy billionaire, Talks-Alot.”
“You assume,” she said, fists finding her hips. “How do you know that? And he’s not a playboy anymore, he’s reformed.”
“Just because I wasn’t here, doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching.”
“All you’ve seen is what the public see,” she said. “What we are doesn’t belong to them.”
“Name one thing we have in common.”
“He likes Scotch.”
“I drink beer.”
“He doesn’t dance.”
“He does with you.”
Which Sam had flat out denied her. Damn. It had worked with Porter.
A-ha! “You both love me.”
“Jury’s out.”
Stubborn jackass.
“Okay, you want to know who he is? He’s the guy who has me surrounded by security every second of the day. And, yes, that includes the nighttime seconds. Just because they’re not in the room, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
“He’s the guy who will, without ceremony or shame, send assistants scurrying around after me with cellphones, ensuring I have everything I want.”
“Diva.”
“And you know what I want every minute of every day?” Her palms landed on his waist. “Him, Sam. He’s my best friend. You’ll love him, I swear it. You can’t know until you experience us. And not through a screen—”
“Okay, geez, you don’t have to lay it on so thick. And you wonder why I stay away.”
“I do wonder that,” she said. “All your life, you’ve been trying to get away.”
“I do my thing, you do yours,” he said. “Sonia still with The Idiot?”
“God knows why…”
“You’re one to talk.”
“My husband is not an idiot.” She laughed. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that. Husband .”
“You’re giddy, did the guy get you drunk or something?”
“Always before she gets out of bed,” Zairn said, appearing around the column. She backed up a little when he came close to stroke her cheek. “People want to talk to you.”
“I’m talking to people.” She pointed at Sam. “Found this guy. And here we are… talking.”
“Mm hmm.”
The way he inspected her with such intensity was like he’d never seen her before, like there was no one else in the room. That adoration was appreciated, and they could get back to that… after she took a shot at surprising him.
“You’ll like this one, I promise.” He had no other choice. “Casanova,” she said, filling her lungs. “Meet Samson Kyst. My brother.”