Chasing Chaos: A Novel (18 page)

“I
can do that.” Timmy headed to where his family stood in a cluster.

Daphne
watched Sandy approach Jim Donovan. Jim stood in the doorway, surveying Sandy’s
spectacular home with a mild expression. But Daphne knew that behind the mild
expression lurked a man who would betray his own daughter without a thought.

He
had done it before.

When
it came to machinations, though, Sandy outclassed Jim Donovan. Sandy outclassed
everyone. Jim Donovan might be able to hide his expression of shock at shaking
hands with an Oscar winner of Sandy’s caliber, but he wouldn’t be able to fool
Sandy about his intentions. And if his intentions toward Greta were anything
but peaceful, Sandy would have Luis carry the man bodily from his house. Hell,
Sandy would probably have the man in jail within the hour. And Greta would
never, ever know. Not till she was back from her honeymoon, anyway.

Daphne
left Sandy and Jim talking by the door. Ten minutes till show time. She headed
toward Greta’s room, wondering if Jim Donovan were the one thing that would
ruin what should have been a perfect night.

~~~~

After
John and Miranda got drinks at the bar, John touched Miranda’s arm. “Can I talk
to you in private for a second?”

She
followed him to an alcove off the living room.

“Did
you know?” He sounded mostly sad, but a little angry too.

Miranda
replayed the scene by the front door. She’d seen the flash of shock pass
quickly across Daphne’s flawless face. For a moment, Miranda had enjoyed
Daphne’s shock, her discomfiture. She had enjoyed this tiny revenge.

If
Miranda had thought of Daphne a year ago, even a month ago, she’d have said
she’d forgiven Daphne for what she’d done back in college. But seeing Daphne
again Monday night, seeing her life here, seeing how perfect everything had
turned out for Daphne when everything in Miranda’s life was shit—it had brought
those awful memories back. Turned out, Miranda wasn’t over it.

So
she’d used John to humiliate Daphne, and it had been fun. For a moment.

It
wasn’t fun now, though. Now, Miranda felt confused. She didn’t want to fight
with Daphne. And she didn’t want John sad or angry with her.

“I
suspected,” she answered. “Daphne’s name used to be Akane. She changed it a
long time ago.”

“You
could have said something at Didier’s.”

“Why?”
Miranda snapped. “So you could track her down and try to win her over?”

“That’s
not how it would have gone. You and I had a great time the past two days.”

“That’s
exactly how it would have gone!” Miranda was fuming now. “You came up to me
because of her. Not because of me. Daphne outshines everyone, you idiot.”

Miranda
hated how bitter she sounded.

“Miranda,
listen to me.”

“Just
let it go, OK?” She took a deep breath. “I understand if you want to leave.”

“Why
would I want to leave?”

She
didn’t know if he wanted to stay because of her or because he was at an
exclusive party at the home of a semi-reclusive superstar.

She
decided she didn’t care. She threw back her drink and headed to the bar to
order another.

~~~~

Daphne
knocked on Greta’s door.

“Yep?”
Greta called out from the other side.

“It’s
Daphne.”

After
a minute, the door cracked open, and Greta peered out at her. “You’re early.”

“You
have somewhere else to be?”

“I
wanted to finish this CAD today.”

Briefly,
Daphne almost forgot the awful news she had to share. Greta was too precious.

“Let
me in. I have something important to tell you.”

“Ominous,
you mean.”

Daphne
shut the door and leaned against it. Greta stood in front of her.

“Yes.
Ominous.” Daphne wanted to yank her hair out of its bun so she could pull on
it. “Your father is here.”

Greta
sat on the bed. “Wow.”

Daphne
sat next to her. “How the fuck did he get here so fast? We called him this
morning!”

“Time
zones in his favor and limitless funds.”

“Jesus,
Greta. I’m sorry.”

“His
appalling presence is hardly your fault.”

“I’m
the one who suggested a phone call.”

“You
had a logical reason for it, and I agreed to it.”

Daphne
stood and started pacing. “We’ve made a plan. Sandy is handling him now.”

Greta,
impossibly, started laughing. “Yes!” she exclaimed.

“Why
are you laughing?”

“Because
Sandy can totally handle my dad! My dad is a horrible person. But Sandy is
scary bad when he wants to be. My dad doesn’t stand a chance.”

“You
know, that’s exactly what I was thinking. But I didn’t think it would make you
so happy.”

“Are
you kidding? It’s like a wedding present.” Greta started laughing harder.

Then,
Daphne started to see the humor too. Stiff, socially horrid Jim Donovan. Sandy,
who owned half of Los Angeles and loved Greta like a daughter. A showdown to
end all showdowns. It was glorious.

“Apparently
you’re to be shielded by Timmy’s family—and of course Timmy—at all times.”
Daphne explained the plan as they prepared to leave the room.

“Yes,
yes of course. I’m sure I’ll need shielding. It’s not like I don’t still
despise him.”

Daphne
was pleased to see Greta still had laughter around her eyes.

“You
know,” Daphne said. “I don’t actually think he came here to ruin your wedding.”

“Probably
not. He just ruins things by accident.”

But
not this
, Daphne
thought as she led Greta out of the bedroom and into the living room.
We
won’t let it happen. We won’t.

“I
half-expected your father to be standing right here, thinking he was going to
escort you or something,” Daphne said.

Greta
snorted.

All
the guests stood out on the deck, waiting for the bride. Daphne led the way.

They
walked as slowly as they could—and again Daphne had to keep from laughing,
realizing how such a slow pace was completely unnatural for both of them. Greta
followed Daphne’s lead out onto the deck. An opening through the group of
people allowed her and Greta to pass to the center of the gathering to the
arbor. Timmy stood under it, his eyes locked on Greta like a man waking from a
dream. Daphne stopped to the side of the arbor as Greta joined Timmy
underneath.

Sandy
stood on the other side, a small book in his hands, and he began the ceremony.
Daphne started to cry then, just a little.

A warm
hand encircled her waist, and above the jasmine she smelled a familiar scent of
mineral spirits, olive oil and him.

“Hey,”
Marlon whispered in her ear as he pulled her close. “I just love weddings.”

“Me
too,” she said, leaning against him.

Sandy
said some words to conclude the ceremony, and Timmy and Greta leaned in for a
kiss. Marlon had held Daphne’s hand tucked inside of his while they’d been
standing on the deck. He liked having her hand there. Once the ceremony ended,
she pulled free to applaud. It took conscious effort on his part not to snatch
her hand back again.

He
laughed at himself. He had it bad for her, and he didn’t mind one bit.

“I
have to check on Greta’s dad,” Daphne told him. “And on some other awkward
guest situations.”

“I’m
staying with you,” he said. “I’ll be your backup.”

“You
know anything about Greta’s dad?”

“A
little.” He knew what most people in their small circle knew—that Greta didn’t
like him. That Greta hadn’t spoken to him in five years. That he had hurt her
badly enough to be unforgiven.

She
nodded. “It’ll be nice to have you with me.”

He
followed her through the crowd to a group that was currently congratulating the
bride and groom. Two older men who looked like brothers, if not twins, each
hugged Greta and Timmy. Timmy’s father and uncle Brian, Marlon guessed. There
was another man standing off from the group, stiff-backed, uncomfortable and
aloof. He was good-looking and very tall, and he wore a nicely cut suit. He had
to be Greta’s dad, Jim Donovan.

“Why’s
he here?” Marlon asked Daphne in a low voice.

“We
called him this morning to let him know. You know, a courtesy call. Somehow he
made it here in time.”

“How’d
he know where to go?”

“I
might have rubbed in his face where the ceremony was being held.” Daphne made a
sour face.

Marlon
chuckled. “That still doesn’t explain how he found Sandy’s address. It’s not
exactly listed.”

“You’re
kidding, right?” She laughed. Her laugh was, as usual, incredibly sexy.

“What
do you mean?”

“Give
me fifteen minutes and an Internet connection, and I could find Sandy’s
address. These days, tax records, real estate holdings, gossip websites,
everything—it’s all online.”

“You
think he knows how to do that?”

“I
think he knows how to pay someone to do that.” She paused. “God, I hate him.”

“Come
on.” He took her hand to reassure her. “Let’s go see why he’s here.”

He
led her around the crowd of Timmy’s family to where Jim Donovan stood. Close
up, the man seemed even taller—he had at least two inches on Marlon, and Marlon
was well over six feet. Greta looked so much like him it was eerie.

“Hello,
Dr. Donovan,” Daphne said to him, keeping her tone as formal as Marlon had ever
heard her speak. She placed a hand on her chest. “Daphne Saito.”

“I
remember you, of course,” he said. “Thank you for calling me this morning.
Although an invitation somewhat prior to the wedding day would have been vastly
more polite.”

“To
be fair,” Marlon interjected, feeling Daphne’s hand tense, “the wedding was
very last minute.”

“Is
Greta pregnant?”

Daphne
coughed to cover her shock and, Marlon thought, her laughter.

“No,”
Marlon answered because Daphne seemed unable to.

“Who
are you?” Jim Donovan asked Marlon.

“I’m
Marlon.” He held out his hand.

“Jim
Donovan.” Jim shook his hand. “What is your relationship to this affair?”

“I’m
Sandy’s handyman.”

Daphne
coughed again, and this time Marlon was certain she was covering laughter.

“His
handyman?”

“Yep.”

“Then
why are you here?”

Daphne
turned her back to Jim Donovan, her shoulders shaking. She glanced up at
Marlon. She had tears in her eyes from holding back laughter.

“I
guess I was invited,” Marlon said. “How about you?”

Daphne
lost it. She guffawed. She grabbed hold of Marlon’s elbow to keep herself
upright. He glanced over at Greta, who stood a few feet away surrounded by
Timmy’s family. She and Daphne had locked eyes. Greta was smiling.

“Honestly,
Daphne. What is the matter with you?” Jim Donovan said.

Marlon
had a feeling this was a man who was unaccustomed to being laughed at.

Daphne
ran her fingers under her eyes to capture her tears and shook her hands to toss
them off. She rolled her shoulders, seeming to get herself together. She turned
to face Jim Donovan once more.

“You
weren’t invited!” She barked at him. “You show up to Sandy’s house uninvited
and insult Sandy’s friend.” With these words, she looped her arm through
Marlon’s. “You are an unbelievable ass.”

Jim
Donovan straightened his already straight tie.

Daphne
giggled again, then worked to straighten her face. “What are you doing here,
Jim?”

To
his credit, Jim let her berate him with a stoic expression.

“I’m
here because my only child is getting married.”

“Ah.
So you haven’t managed to father another one with—what was her name again? Ana
something? She was certainly young enough to give you a brood.”

Marlon
wasn’t sure who this Ana person was, but Daphne didn’t seem to like her.

“Don’t
be crass,” Jim said.

“Why
the hell not?”

“Because
I’m here to ask forgiveness.”

“Dad.”
Greta interrupted. She stood on the other side of Daphne, and next to Greta
stood Timmy.

“Congratulations
to you both,” Jim said, his voice and posture growing even more stiff than
before.

“So
you aren’t here to cause trouble?” asked Greta.

“I
just wanted to be here for you,” said Jim.

Marlon
didn’t know Jim Donovan at all, but he spent a lot of time watching people. He
believed Jim’s words.

“I
understand.” Greta stepped forward and hugged her father, then stepped back.
“It’s probably too late for us to have much of a relationship, but I
understand.”

“I’m
Timmy Eisenhart.” Timmy reached to shake his father-in-law’s hand.

“You
probably have a lot of questions,” Greta said to her father, still supremely
calm. “And I’ll answer them. But I won’t do it today.” Then she took Timmy’s
hand, and she led her husband away. Greta stopped and greeted her other guests,
smiled and hugged them, showed a joy at their presence that she hadn’t shown to
her own father.

Daphne
remained with Jim, and Marlon remained just behind her. Marlon might believe
Jim didn’t intend to cause trouble, but that didn’t mean he was taking any
chances with his girl.

“Greta
might forgive you some day.” Daphne was suddenly fierce. “But I won’t.”

Jim
Donovan, the giant of a man, took a step back from her.

She
looked up at Marlon then, tugging on his hand. “Come on, handyman. Let’s get
something to drink.”

He
followed Daphne, leaving Jim Donovan alone on the deck, the deck that Marlon
himself had built with Sandy over a decade ago, back when Marlon had been in
need of a father. Back when Sandy, in a way, had been in need of a son.

He
followed Daphne to the closer of the two beverage stations—the one set up in
the kitchen—and they each ordered a beer.

“Cheers,”
he said to her. After they each took a sip, he said, “You worked him over
pretty good.”

She
frowned. “He deserved worse.” Then she smiled at him, a smile that tore at his
gut in the most pleasant of ways. “You, sir, were amazing.”

“Just
following your lead.”

“I’m
not so sure about that. But in any case, thank you. You were excellent backup.”

He
dipped his head and kissed her. He couldn’t help himself. She placed her hand
on his chest, and he could feel her fingertips through the fabric of his shirt,
through his undershirt, all the way to the skin of his chest, and she burned
him raw.

He
was not going to make it through the reception. Maybe he could convince her to
sneak away with him to his apartment for a short break. That was an excellent
idea.

He
was about to suggest it when they were interrupted.

“Hey,
cuties,” said a familiar voice.

He
turned to look. It was Miranda, Daphne’s friend from college. The tornado on
two legs. Her date stood next to her, looking uncomfortable.

Earlier
in the evening, Marlon hadn’t had much to do except watch Daphne. So he’d stood
in a corner and watched Daphne greet guests as they’d arrived. When Miranda and
her date had walked in, he could tell something was off, and the off-ness
seemed to have something to do with the guy.

The
guy seemed harmless enough, though, and he also seemed attentive to Miranda.
Marlon couldn’t get a read on why Daphne seemed nervous. He just knew he didn’t
like it.

“Miranda.”
Daphne’s voice was cold. “Are you enjoying the reception?”

“Sure.
The food is excellent, and the drinks are excellent and free. The company is,”
at this point, she looked around, “better than the self-entitled pricks I was
expecting.”

Marlon
winced at her sharp language. He had a feeling it was directed, in part, at
Daphne.

Stepping
in, he extended his hand to Miranda’s date. “I’m Marlon.”

“John.”

Marlon
couldn’t swear to it, but he thought John was having trouble meeting his eyes.

“Did
you two know each other before Miranda arrived on Monday?” Marlon asked him.

“No,
actually.” John spoke, it seemed, with both humor and sadness. “Our meeting was
just a happy coincidence.”

Miranda
made a grumpy noise.

John
glanced at Miranda with simple longing in his eyes. Marlon wanted to tell the
guy this was a fight he wouldn’t be winning any time soon. Miranda seemed
dead-set on alienating everyone who cared for her: Daphne, John—it didn’t
matter.

“We’ll
leave you lovebirds alone,” Miranda sneered.

“Fine.”
Daphne dropped all pretense of being polite.

John
reached for Miranda’s hand, but she pulled it free as they disappeared into the
crowd.

“Happy
couple, those two,” Marlon said.

Daphne
looked grim.

“You
know him?” Marlon asked.

Daphne
looked startled by his question. “No. I don’t know him at all.” She pulled away
from him. “I have to go talk to Olivia.”

She
rushed from him, and he watched her go, wondering how Miranda had managed to
get under her skin so badly.

And
then he saw where Daphne was heading or rather toward whom. She wasn’t heading
toward Olivia at all. She was heading toward Dan.

While
Marlon had been watching the guests arrive, he’d seen Dan come in with Carrie.
He’d been pissed off, sure, but then he’d realized he was probably
overreacting, like Carrie had said. Carrie and Dan were here, after all, at
Sandy’s house. What was going to happen? Plus, Dan was a known entity, not some
stranger. If Carrie was going to learn about Hollywood dirtbags, Marlon would
rather she learn about one whose home address was in Rivet’s Rolodex.

Marlon
sipped his beer and watched Daphne confront Dan. She spoke quietly but
intensely. She was angry with him, that much was obvious. Dan grabbed her hand,
and she yanked it away.

Marlon
was making his way across the room before he even knew his feet were moving.

“You’re
acting like a jealous ex, Daph. Classic,” Dan said as Marlon walked up. Dan
looked at Marlon then, sizing him up. “You clean up nicely,” Dan said.

“Thanks,”
Marlon said.

“Does
Sandy buy you dress clothes to wear around the guests?”

“No,
he does not,” Marlon said.

“Dan,
shut it,” Daphne said.

“No,
Daphne. You do not get to cheat on me and then tell me what to do.”

“Why
can’t you just leave Carrie alone?”

“Carrie
doesn’t want to be left alone,” Dan said. “Ask her.”

“I
did, actually. Just this morning,” Marlon said.

Dan
looked at Marlon, suspicious. “Why did you see Carrie this morning?”

“You
don’t know?” Daphne said. Daphne was certain Dan would have figured out
Carrie’s connection to Marlon. “Marlon is Carrie’s big brother.”

“I
didn’t take biology in college, but even I know that’s a little iffy.”

“You
write for a living. Surely you have an imagination,” Daphne said.

“Our
moms are sisters. I grew up in her house,” Marlon said. “We’re blood cousins
and adoptive siblings.”

“Ah,”
Dan said. “Kinda like the Brady Bunch.”

“Kinda
like,” Marlon said.

“That
makes this even better,” Dan said.

“What
are you talking about?” Daphne asked.