His and Hers (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Misty’s cell phone chirped, announcing a text message from Diane. The Nona Darling Film Festival officially was underway. At the college, the tables were set, the arches were up, and she dodged the unrolling red carpet—even as she typed.

She held a mental picture of Diane, thumbs flying over her cell phone keypad, negotiating high-hurdles in her formal gown. Bubbling laughter released the swirl of butterflies from her belly. Everything was ready.

Almost everything.

Misty eyed the time. Only twenty minutes until their car arrived. She placed a final few bobby pins in her hair, attempting to manage the stray blonde curls from escaping around her ears. She did her best to keep them at bay and screwed her lips at the result then raced across the hall.

Rapid fire, she knocked on Grandma’s door, calling, “Time to go!”

“Come in.” Nona’s lyrical voice had an edge to it.

Nerves, perhaps, Misty guessed. She hurried into the master suite, her black, silk skirts in hand, as she sought out the guest of honor. “Are you ready?”

“You tell me.” Grandma sat in front of her vanity table, back razor straight.

Misty eyed the gorgeous off-white jacketed gown they’d purchased the day before. Stunning, in concert with her trademark rope of pearls wrapped around her long neck, her snow-white hair pinned into a chignon. No “former starlet” about it. Nona Darling—her grandmother—positively sparkled.

Their gazes locked through the reflection. Grandma’s lips pressed into a firm smile. “Passing fair?”

“Elegant.” Misty darted a kiss to her cheek, then wiped away the residual splotch of lipstick with a tissue. “You look lovely.”

“Maybe, but I’ve got opening night jitters something fierce! You look beautiful, Misty.” Grandma’s gaze warmed with approval. She held out her willowy arm, draped with an ornate gold bracelet, bedecked in diamonds and rubies. “I could use your help on the clasp.”

“Granddaddy gave this to you, didn’t he?” Misty asked while securing the lock-chain.

“For our fifth anniversary. More than we could afford, but he said I was worth all that and more. Of everything he gave me, it’s still my favorite.” Grandma clung to her hands. “We talked about this day, you know—of telling the truth about those early years. I never imagined he wouldn’t be standing beside me when the time rolled around…”

“I miss him, too.” Misty swallowed her emotions, though tears obscured her vision. “Anton’s a lovely man. You’re lucky to be the gal on his arm.”

“And we have you to thank.” Grandma hugged her back, just as tight. “You and Cain.”

“Yeah.” Misty wondered if her heart would always kick up a beat when his name was mentioned. Sooner or later, it was bound to be old hat, but not tonight. Tonight, she might as well have been waiting for her prom date. Or her wedding. Where had that thought come from? A glance at her reflection showed her cheeks as pale as they felt. A quick pinch put color back into them.

“Misty?” Grandma blinked. “Have you heard a word I said?”

“Sorry. I just…lost in thought.” She shook her head back to the here and now, a hand to her grandmother’s elbow as she stood. “What did you say?”

“You realize, if you pull this off, kiddo, you’ll be back in the limelight again.”

“We’ll see.”

“Nothing doing. It’s just a fact.” Grandma circled Misty’s face with her hands. “You look like a million bucks, and you’re ready. Just do it on your terms.”

Misty nodded. She wouldn’t let her grandmother down ever again.

“Now. Let’s go see if there’s any Hollywood magic left in these old bones.” She straightened her skirts.

The two gazed at each other, sought strength from one another as the front doorbell rang.

Misty blew a nervous breath and took a step to the landing. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

****

Cain pressed the bell again. That Brad Paisley song filtered through his mind, what was it about waiting on a woman, anyway? The house echoed bells. Finally, footsteps from above.

“Your chariot awaits, ladies,” he announced, crossing the threshold.

“Just a minute.” Misty’s voice rained from upstairs.

Cain breathed deep, comforted in the sights and scents of this house. He fiddled with his sleeves, pulling them through his tuxedo jacket, playing a moment with the gold musical note cufflinks—a college graduation gift from his parents. Not that he’d ever imagined wearing a tuxedo back then. Cufflinks were a nice touch for a guy with a degree in music. Mom always knew best.

He turned to the mirror, dusted a hand across his clean-shaven cheek. His hair, slicked back and away from his face. Cleaned up okay, his mother had gone gooey at the sight of him, while attaching the white rose boutonniere so he must have done something right.

Cain patted his right inside pocket with a fidgety hand. Still there. Why he’d brought the thing tonight of all nights, he hadn’t a clue. Sounded like a good idea when filling his pockets with keys, wallet, money clip. Engagement ring. Sure, why not. Such a cavalier thought for something that now set his palms to sweating.

“Cain.”

Nona Darling’s voice startled him. He turned his head, looking up the stairs as she descended. A cloud of white satin, her floor-length skirt whispered as she walked. The belted jacket, pearls, and the gem of a lady adorned much the same. “Wow.” He helped her down the last set, giving her a light kiss on the hand. “You’re stunning.”

Nona’s green eyes resisted a flick to her painted image, failed, then sighed. “Age before beauty.” She grinned, and glanced up the staircase.

“
Bellissima
.” Poppa applauded her approach, looking sharp himself, in Armani. White hair, dusted back, a rose clipped to his lapel. “You are beautiful, Nona.”

He watched Nona actually blush as she went to his grandfather.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Anton.” She allowed a tender kiss at her cheek, and giggled. Nona turned back to Cain. “She’ll be right down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He swallowed, hand to pocket. Still there. He took a deep breath, and orange blossoms flooded his senses.

“I’m here. Sorry…” Misty edged her way down the stairs, hand to rail, a black pearl in satin, hair up in a cascade, flyaway curls escaping to frame her lovely face. He caught sight of a bare, polished red toe and the silver sandal heel she wore like a glass slipper. His personal Cinderella.

“No. Don’t hurry.” He swallowed.

She pursed her glossy lips at him, brows darting up in humor. Straightening her shoulders, she made her way, elegantly down the stairs.

He held out a hand to accept her manicured, soft fingers. A kiss to the back of her hand, then the palm, then the fingertips. Her sigh sent a thrill through his blood. Still his Misty. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

“Grandma’s idea.” She darted a glance out the door. “They in the car already?”

“My pop collected her.” He gathered her slip of a waist in his hands, and placed a subtle kiss where her shoulder and neck met. Her shoulders gave a shimmy and shake. Skin warm.

Delightful.

His.

“What is it?” She tilted her head.

Her questions brewed in her jade green eyes. He tugged at his collar, bowtie hugging his neck. “Ask me later.” I’m a goner. But, what a way to go…

Cain hooked his arm through hers and turned her to the door. “Nervous?”

She paused just inside the threshold, worry knitting her brow. “I don’t know if I can do this…”

“You’re not just an I anymore.” He grinned, brushing the line of her regal jaw with his thumb. “You’re part of a we.”

“Together?” She searched his face, and looked straight into his soul.

“No way you’re getting rid of me now. Let’s go.”

****

As the black Town Car sat in traffic, Cain drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. There were so many people here already. Banners hung from the pillars at the entry to Almond Valley College. He recognized the one sheet from
His and Hers
. About the other films he was less familiar. Still, it was obvious who was the guest of honor. America’s sweetheart—Nona Darling—who sat, stately and elegant, in the back seat of his car, hand clasped sweetly in his grandfather’s.

Wasn’t life a kick?

Beside him, Misty tapped her thumbs across the cell phone as she rapid-fire texted with someone.

He watched out of the corner of his eye until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Who are you writing to?”

“My sister, Evelyn. They’re on the portico, waiting for us.”

“They?” He swallowed.

Misty nodded. “She’s there, with my parents. They came in this afternoon.”

Cain took a deep breath and offered what he hoped was a casual grin. “All this going on tonight, and I get to meet your parents too?”

“And my sister.” Misty raised her brows, a faint smile touching her glossy lips. “She’s more picky than either of them.”

“A triple-whammy.” He joked, re-flexed his fingers around the steering wheel, and dragged away his attention from his sexy blonde date in the passenger seat. Things had managed to run pretty smoothly so far. Now was the time the rubber would meet the road.

“Tell me again what Todd looks like,” he asked.

Misty launched into a description but he’d heard it before. Tall. Broad shouldered. Stocky build. Hollywood boy, pompadour hair or some such thing. Probably stood a whole head taller than Cain, as that was how he’d lived most of his life. He’d managed to convince himself that looking a girl straight in the eye was a good thing. Still, tonight he wondered if he shouldn’t have gone to the gym a few more times last week. Last month. Heck, in the last year! Too much time spent at his guitar, and not enough on his physique or appearance. That was okay, too. Misty liked him for more than looks. She dug his music. He made her laugh. Todd, it sounded like, just made her cry.

Cain fought the scowl as traffic started to move again. He one-hand-steered, and wrapped his fingers protectively around Misty’s. They went a few blocks more, and then stopped at a red light.

Somewhere out there in that crowd lurked a viper in paparazzi clothing. Not bad enough that the guy intended to bring down one of the most lovely women in the world, he was also the ex-boyfriend of the gal Cain intended to marry.

His frown rapidly upgraded to a broad smile, relaxing at the thought of his own good fortune. The guy didn’t know what a gem he’d let slip away. He’d never make that mistake with Misty. “You know, I was thinking…”

She turned to him, then looked away—distracted by her chirping phone. “Hold that thought.” Another text came through. Misty fumbled with the device. “Why I ever agreed to carrying this thing I’ll never know!” Her laugh matched her shrug. She obviously enjoyed the text exchange. “Not that I didn’t appreciate it. Just managed to go the past six months without one…”

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” He cleared his throat. “Diane again?”

“No. Alfred.” She focused, tap, tap, tapping her thumbs. “They’re good to go at the theater.”

He drummed the wheel. No amount of swallowing would wet his throat. His hand darted again to the pocket of his coat. Still there, he gulped. How many times could a guy check the same pocket? A bead of sweat formed at his temple. The tiny velvet box lay, waiting, where he’d placed it earlier this evening.

When he’d awakened that morning, he had no intention of asking her today. A proposal had only been mildly on his radar since his and Pop’s talk the night before. He had the ring. Now, the timing was up to him. But, that day, they’d walked the property.

Cain showed him the operation. How they’d modernized the presses. The vats and casks of oil. How the tasting bar had been popularized. How the concerts brought in traffic, and increased not only sales, but helped Mom with her catering. The old man, in turn, peppered him with questions. About what Cain wanted most out of life. Did he want to sell olive oil forever? What about his degree? His music? About what was most important.

All of his answers cycled around Misty. Her dreams. Her hopes and aspirations. His desire that she’d want to stay in this corner of the world for awhile, and that she’d learn to love the family business as much as he did.

The old man laughed, and then muttered in rapid Italian. Cain had caught only a few words but quickly realized the intent later, when his grandfather asked him if he’d brought the ring right before they’d left to pick up the ladies.

Buona fortuna
, he’d said. Good fortune. Good luck. Boy, Cain thought, tugging at the bow tie again, he was sure gonna need it.

****

Misty took Cain’s hand and stepped from the Town Car. Diane hadn’t lied. The red carpet spread out from the curb, along the wide sidewalk and up the granite stairs to the portico of the theater building. Red velvet ropes held back the throng of onlookers, some passersby, others who looked like they’d been waiting for hours to view the arriving guests. Banners, displaying Grandma’s image and block letters announcing the event, waved in the warm evening breeze. Above the double doors, a gorgeous floral arch, bedecked in film reels, negative tape, and gardenias paired with white roses—a noble entrance to this regal affair.