Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The day of the Cartwright wedding dawned cloudy and overcast, with dark grey clouds looming over the water and rain already spluttering from the sky.
“It’s a disaster.” Bitsy was waiting when Brooke arrived, at seven a.m. sharp. “I mean, just look at it! Someone leaked to the press, those vultures are lined up outside, and this weather!”
“Good morning,” Brooke managed, shaking off her jacket. “Ready for the big day?”
“It’s raining!” Bitsy squawked. “The hair will be ruined! Did nobody check the weather reports?”
“Three times,” Brooke reassured her. “Which is why I know it will clear by lunchtime. And if it doesn’t, I have a canopy and tents on standby. Everyone’s hair will be beautiful.”
She headed for the lobby, but Bitsy trotted alongside. “Tents aren’t good enough. I heard there was a hurricane warning!”
“We have plenty of time.” Brooke tried to keep her voice even.
“The ceremony’s not until two. That’s seven hours for the storm to pass.
Have you had breakfast?” she swiftly changed the subject.
“There’s a wonderful buffet being laid out in the main dining room.
You should go have something. It’s a long day ahead! ”
She nudged Bitsy towards the dining hall and quickly changed direction, joining the rest of her staff, who were waiting in the conference room.
“OK, listen up.” She clapped her hands, and all eyes turned to her.
“We’ve got a lot going on today, but I don’t want anyone to worry.
This is just another wedding, and we’ve done a dozen already this year. ”
She could tell from the dubious faces they weren’t buying it—and she didn’t blame them. Most of their events didn’t come with trained security details and a who’s who of Hollywood’s A-list stars.
“Who am I kidding?” Brooke admitted. “This is the big one. But I believe in you guys. If we stay calm and professional, and all do our jobs, this will be the best day of Lila Moore’s life. OK?”
They nodded.
“Let’s get to it!”
“Umm, Brooke?” Neil caught her as the room emptied. “Richie called in sick. And Brent too. They were at some rock show last night in Boston, they say they won’t make it back.”
Her bartenders. Brooke took a deep breath. “OK, thanks, I’ve got this.”
She tried calling a few back-up options, but they wouldn’t be free until the evening, so she dialed the first person in her phone. “Save me,” she said to Riley.
“Always,” he said, but there was a note of caution in his voice. “What dragon do you need slaying this time?”
“She’s in pink Chanel, but I can handle her,” Brooke said, thinking of Bitsy. “I need your expertise.”
“Really?” Riley drawled, so suggestive that Brooke blushed.
“Your bartending expertise,” she explained quickly. “Both my guys are slacking off sick. Any chance you can come tend bar for a few hours from noon until the cavalry arrive? I’ll pay.”
“No need,” Riley assured her. “I’ll be there in twenty. To tell you the truth, I’m curious about this whole party. It’s not every day we get Hollywood royalty descending on this part of the world.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Brooke breathed a sigh of relief. “What would I do without you?”
“Pray, nightly, to meet a man like me,” Riley joked, and she laughed.
“Easy there. OK, I better get back to it. Wish me luck!”
She hung up and turned her attention back to the well-orchestrated circus currently taking over the hotel.
She ferried guest requests, kept the press at bay, and deftly kept champagne flowing in the dining hall, until the entire building was decked out in fresh lilacs and silk streamers, a picture of cool elegance.
By the time Lila and Justin emerged from their wedding brunch and another round of photographs, the storm had passed, and the clouds were parting to reveal another warm, sunny day.
“Everything looks so beautiful,” Lila said, looking around. “Thank you. I can’t imagine what you went through to get all this done last-minute.”
“Of course she got it done,” Bitsy sniffed beside her. “We’re paying them enough.”
“Mother!” Justin looked mortified.
Brooke cleared her throat. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “Now, let me get you ladies settled in the salon to get dressed for the main event. Justin, you and your groomsmen are in the library.”
“That’s great.” Justin gave Lila a kiss. “See you at the ceremony, sweetheart. I’ll be the one with a tux, at the end of the aisle.”
“I’ll try not to miss you.” Lila smiled, but Brooke thought she detected a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.
Uh-oh.
“This way!” She quickly led Lila and her bridal party to the salon, now transformed into a confection of white, lilac, and pale blush pink. Tiny tables were set with delicate finger sandwiches and cakes, and there was even more champagne waiting.
The group cooed and immediately started snapping photographs. “Your makeup artist and stylists are en route, they’ll be here any minute, and if you need anything at all, just let me know.”
Bitsy peered at a fork. “Has this been polished? I see smudges.”
Brooke whisked it out of her hand. “I’ll send fresh ones immediately.”
She closed the double doors behind her and let out a breath.
“Demanding, much?”
She turned. Meredith was standing with a phone in one hand, a clipboard in the other, and a Bluetooth headset fixed to one ear.
“Oh no, it’s fine,” Brooke said quickly. “Lila’s actually great. Really relaxed.”
“I wasn’t talking about the bride,” Meredith said, and Brooke allowed herself a grin.
“She’s certainly . . . challenging.”
“And I thought I had to deal with divas all day in Hollywood.” Meredith intercepted a passing waiter, snagged a glass of champagne, and downed it in one.
Meredith and Brooke stood for a moment, watching the hustle of activity out on the lawn. “You ever think you put so much energy into planning everyone else’s life so you don’t have to focus on your own?” Meredith asked suddenly.
Brooke sighed. “All the time.”
They were silent, until Meredith’s phone began buzzing angrily. She lifted it, not even pausing to answer before snapping, “No, I told you, the contracts were for six percent.”
She stalked away, and Brooke went back to her schedule. Soon, it was almost time for the vows, and they began ushering guests outside to take their place in front of the gorgeous oceanfront wedding arch.
“Brooke? There’s a guy in the lobby to see you,” one of her clerks said, looking about as harried as Brooke felt.
She headed over to see what the latest demand was, making a note to do something special for the staff when all this was over, to thank them for all the late nights and overtime.
Spa vouchers, maybe, or a big dinner out somewhere, off the clock?—
“Hey baby,” a male voice cut through her thoughts. “Surprise.”
Brooke froze. For a moment, she couldn’t look; just the sound of his voice sliced clean through her, baring her wounds again, raw and bloody as the day he’d broken it in two.
Archer.
She couldn’t believe it, but there he was, standing in the middle of the lobby like he had any right at all. “What . . . ?” she stammered, her heart racing. “What are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t answer my messages, so I had to come talk to you face-to-face.” Archer strolled closer, clean-shaven and smartly-dressed in a button-down and pants that perfectly fit his tall, limber frame. He fixed her with a melting smile. “You look great, baby. God, I’ve missed you.”
He reached out, and Brooke flinched back at the touch. How many nights had he reached for her, just like that?
How long was it the only thing she wanted in the world?
She finally found her voice: stern. “You can’t be here.”
“Look, I know we’ve had our . . . misunderstandings, but you can’t stay mad at me forever.” Archer looked at her from under his shock of dark hair, those eyes full of affection and regret. “Let’s just talk, it’s all I’m asking. Hear me out, baby. Please.”
“No. I mean, you can’t be here,” Brooke repeated, trying her best to keep it together. “Everyone coming in and out of the hotel needs a security clearance. How did you even get past the doors?”
“I have my ways,” Archer grinned. “You think I was going to let a couple of rent-a-cops keep me away from you?” He reached for her again, and Brooke had to slap his hand away.
Hurt flashed across his face. “Hey, look, I know you’re mad, but I came all this way to see you. The least you could do is give me a chance to explain.”
Brooke stared at him in disbelief, but she shouldn’t have been surprised.
Somehow Archer always managed to glide his way through any situation; flip things around so neatly, you couldn’t resist the full force of his charm.
Brooke had admired him for it, once. He’d handled VIPs and janitors with the same deft charm.
But she knew the dark side to that silver tongue now, and he wasn’t ever “handling” her again.
“I’m busy. I’m working. Please leave. Now.” Brooke drew herself up to her full height and glared at him, right in those dark, soulful eyes she’d adored. “Don’t make me call security.”
“Baby.” Archer looked wounded, and she had to grit her teeth.
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, doing her best to keep her voice down.
Wedding guests were meandering through the lobby, heading outside; she could see Meredith and Bitsy arguing about something in the corner.
They were twenty minutes away from the wedding ceremony—it was the worst possible moment to be faced with the ghosts of heartbreak past, but somehow, Brooke was going to get through it.
“I’m not your baby, and I never was. Go tell it to your wife.”
She turned on her heel to walk away, but Archer caught her arm, pulling her back. “Look, I don’t know what she told you, but you can’t believe her,” he implored Brooke. “She’s crazy, vindictive, and bitter. She’s trying to break us apart, and you’re letting her!”
Brooke tore away. This was supposed to be a good day—a perfect day—for Lila and her family. One more wedding to help even the scales, one more happy couple launched into their life of matrimonial bliss, to make up for the damage Brooke had unwittingly done.
“Julia,” she said, feeling sick inside. “Your wife has a name.”
“Ex-wife,” Archer insisted.
“Oh yeah?” Brooke stared back. “Show me the papers. Better yet, don’t. Because you’re too late. It couldn’t be more over.”
She made to leave again, but Archer blocked her path. “You have to listen,” he said, his fa?ade crumbling. He grabbed her shoulders, gripping too tight. “Please, you’re all I have left. Brooke?—”
“Hey! Get your hands off her!”
A loud voice came from across the lobby. Before Brooke even had time to react, Riley came storming over and hit Archer square in the jaw with a solid left hook, sending him tumbling to the ground.