InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (39 page)

            “It’s going to
be a secret,” Tia answered, her smile lighting up her face, “to keep the
paparazzi away. No one’s going to know where they’re going until they’re on the
way there. We’re arranging all the transportation for the guests so the media
can’t figure it out. But I’ll tell you this, because I know you can keep the
secret. It’s going to be the whole weekend, so don’t make any plans!”

            “A
weekend-long celebration? Holy shit, this is going to be the event of the year!
And you really think you can pull it together that quickly?” Lexi asked.

            Dylan smiled
and Tia answered. “We’ve got Jessa on it,” she said. “You know she can do
anything.”

            “Do you really
need to do it so soon?” Ryan interjected; instantly sorry he’d said it. All six
eyes squinted at him, and he could almost feel the daggers shooting from
Lexi’s. Dylan regained his composure quickly, and pressed his lips together.

            “Pretty much,”
Dylan answered, either not noticing or not acknowledging his condescending
tone. “I only have a couple months between the studio and rehearsals for the
tour, and we need to squeeze a honeymoon in there, too. If it were up to me,
I’d do it today, but you know women, they want these big weddings…” he smiled
at Tia, who pouted out her lower lip. 

            “Is it going
to be huge? Will it be a star-studded affair? Oh, I can hardly wait to go dress
shopping!”

            Dylan laughed.
“There’ll be a few celebrities there, but we’re going to keep it fairly small,
actually. Close friends and family, mostly.” 

            “A whole
weekend at a secret location,” she said dreamily, “I don’t know if I can wait!”

            “Me either,”
Tia said. “We haven’t hammered out all the details yet, but I’ll give you all
the ones I can once I know them.”

            “Oohh, I’ll
have to start putting extra money in my vacation fund right away.”

            “You don’t
need to—the best part is that it isn’t going to cost anyone a dime.”

            “Are you
serious?” Lexi asked, stunned. “How…”

            “You’ll find
out eventually, but for now, it’s all part of the surprise.”

            “Oh my God,
this is unbelievable. Are you busy Saturday afternoon? Want to go dress
shopping?”

            “Actually,
I’ve got a few people sending over some sketches…for all three of us.  I’m
hoping to get some in the next week or so. Would you be available to go for an
initial fitting next weekend if I see one I really like?”

            “Oh, I see,”
Lexi teased. “So you’ve got people now? Like actual designers? The ones who
make dresses for the stars?”

            “The very
ones,” Tia smiled shyly. Dylan had been right—top name designers were calling
Jessa every day begging to make her wedding dress, knowing that pictures of it
would be all over the news and the magazines. Tia imagined people asking, ‘Who
are you wearing?’ She never in a million years thought that would be a question
she’d ever be asked. It was actually a little much, in her opinion—she knew it
was going to cost a small fortune and her mind hadn’t yet come to terms with
the fact that she was now a wealthy woman. She would have been fine with a
regular dress from a normal bridal shop, but she also knew that if she went
that route, she’d have to deal with a lot of unwanted attention and the chance
that someone would snap a photo of her in her dress and sell it to the media
before the wedding. In the end, it was just easier and less stressful to put it
in the hands of a professional. Plus, it was exciting to know that she’d be
wearing a dress that was one of a kind and made just for her.

            “I can
definitely do that. Just let me know what time.”

            “Then maybe
after that we can shop for invitations—I need to get those real quick. Or at
least, “Save the Date” cards.”

            “Sounds great,”
Lexi said. “I still haven’t found the ones I want yet, and I need to get those
rolling too.”

            Ryan just
wanted to sink into his seat and disappear. The longer he sat and listened, the
more insignificant he felt in the company of his own fiancé and her former
school teacher best friend. Here he was, sitting down to a hundred-dollar-meal
and drinking champagne that cost more than that, and no one else was even
batting an eye. He made a good living; and it would get even better when he
finally made partner, but he’d never be able to give Lexi carte blanche to hire
designers to make her dresses or wedding planners to handle all the details.
They were paying for the wedding themselves—he was expecting the guests to give
him
money, not providing
them
with an entire weekend of
festivities on his dime. A sick feeling sloshed around in his stomach and his
forty-five dollar steak suddenly felt like a rock.

            Less than a
year ago, Tia was scraping and saving just to be able to afford a long weekend
in Punta freaking Cana. Lexi often picked up her tab when they went out
somewhere on the fancier side, as she knew that Tia was also paying the
mortgage on her tiny little house and didn’t have a lot left over for extras.
Now the tables had completely turned, and he wondered how Lexi would take it
when the realization sunk in that he was never going to be able to give her
what Tia had. No matter how hard he worked, he was never going to be a multi
-millionaire. He felt really out of his league here, but Lexi was looking
pretty damn comfortable. He glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer
this evening was going to drag on, or if anyone would notice if he just left.

Ryan
barely slept a wink all night. When his alarm went off at five, he could hardly
peel his tongue off the roof of his mouth and it felt like someone was using a
jackhammer inside his skull. He knew at the time that it was a stupid move to
down two more glasses of champagne in the limo on the ride home, but he just
couldn’t stand listening to Lexi going on about wearing a gown—that’s what she
called it, a goddamn
gown--
made by an actual famous designer when he
knew damn well she’d gotten her own wedding dress off the rack.

He
downed three aspirin and drank about a gallon of coffee, but he just couldn’t
get himself moving, and was five minutes late for his seven thirty meeting.  It
was impossible to miss the cold stares from the partners when he rushed in, out
of breath.  It was all he could do to keep his eyes open much less focus on the
discussion, and Wes had to kick him more than once under the table when his
eyelids simply refused to stay open and he dozed off. When the meeting finally
ended, he rushed to his own office, hoping to lock the door and catch a quick
nap so he could make it through the rest of the day.

“Victoria
Damon here to see you, Mr. Stallworth,” Shannon, the secretary, yelled at his
fleeting figure.

Shit,
he thought. Since he wasn’t allowed to handle any of her legal affairs, he
could only venture a guess that she was here in regard to their meeting the
night before; and that was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment.
His head was still pounding, and the coffee had gone right through him—he
really needed to take a piss. “Tell her I’m in a…” he opened the door to his
office and saw her seated there, a shiny designer bag that matched her outfit
centered perfectly in her lap. He turned and glared at Shannon over his
shoulder, giving her a look that indicated they’d be speaking about this later.
She just shrugged at him, raising her palms in the air to indicate she’d been
left little choice in the matter.

He
sucked in a breath and pasted on his best smile, willing his bladder to hold
out for he hoped would be a very brief encounter. “Ms. Damon,” he said as brightly
as he could muster. “How nice to see you again.” He shook her limp hand and
moved behind his desk, taking a seat.

“And
you as well,” she answered. “I trust you enjoyed your dinner last night?” Ryan
noticed that she didn’t invite him to be on a first name basis as she had so
quickly with Dylan.

Enjoyed
wasn’t exactly the word he would use, but he held the
smile and nodded. “I did, very much, thank you.”

“And
your company,” she added. “I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Dylan
Miller.”

Ryan
couldn’t resist the opportunity to one-up her snobby assumption that he
wouldn’t have friends in high places. He tented his fingers under his chin and
smiled wider. “Yes, well, my fiancé is going to be the maid of honor at their
wedding. They just got back into town, so we were celebrating their
engagement.”
Pull that out of your high society ass and choke on it,
he
thought as he remembered how she’d turned her back on him and refused to
acknowledge his presence once he’d made the introduction to Miller.

“Yes,
I recognized your fiancé from
After Dark,
” she replied. “Tia and Dylan
are such a lovely couple. She’s a lucky young lady.”

Ryan’s
bladder was uncomfortably full, and he was in no mood for small talk. “I’m
afraid I’m not familiar with your file, Ms. Damon, but if you’d like to give me
an idea of what you need, I can be up to speed in a day or two and set up
another meeting with you then.”

“I’m
not here to discuss my file, Mr. Stallworth,” she said shortly. “I’m here on
more of a personal matter, actually.”

Ryan
squinted, gritting his teeth. Before last night, there wasn’t anything personal
in the world that ‘The Demon’ could possibly want to discuss with the lowly
lawyer who wasn’t even allowed to peek at her company’s files. But suddenly,
after seeing him hanging out with Mister Hot Shot Rock Star, she was in the
mood for a friendly chat. There was only one possible ‘personal’ reason that
she’d be calling on him, and he was immediately offended. His first thought was
that she was going to invite him to the charity auction in the hopes he might
convince Dylan to go along with him. He wanted to tell her that they had no
personal relationship and that she could feel free to hustle her narcissistic
ass out of his office as fast as she was able to move, but she was one of the
firms top clients, so instead, he pressed his lips together and said, “I’m
afraid I don’t understand.” 

“I’ll
cut to the chase,” she said. Ryan expected nothing less, based on her
reputation. She wasn’t exactly known for small talk.

“Please
do,” he said, fighting the urge to squirm in his seat.

“First
off, I did a bit of research last night and discovered that Dylan has his own
charity dedicated to helping children. I’d like to set up a meeting with him
personally to discuss how we could be of assistance to each other and further
both causes.”

Ryan
frowned. “Wouldn’t you need to speak to the people who run the actual charity?”
he asked. “Obviously he has people taking care of the details.”

“I
would think you’d know that’s not how I work, Mr. Stallworth. I only deal with
the people at the top; not the help. I did have some of my assistants look into
that this morning, but it didn’t seem at all that they’d be able to set up a
direct meeting. Since you’re such good friends and you can easily vouch for my
reputation, you can eliminate the middle man and set something up for me. I can
work around his schedule, of course, and would be willing to go to him if he’s
unable to come to me.”

He
was hardly good friends with Miller—he barely knew the dude, really. But he
wasn’t about to let The Demon know that. “I appreciate your faith in me, Ms.
Damon,” he answered, “but unfortunately, Dylan’s got an incredibly busy
schedule and isn’t looking to put anything more on his plate at this time. He’s
only going to be in Chicago for a short while before he’s due out west to start
work on the next InHap album, he’s getting married, and then he’s got a tour
this summer. Plus, the drummer for his band was in a nasty accident and he’s
been spending a lot of his free time with him, helping him along with his
recovery.” Ryan didn’t know if that was true, but it sounded good, anyway. “I
wish I could help you,” he lied, “but I really don’t see that I can. Dylan’s a
very busy man, especially these days.” As if he’d ever lower himself to the
point of begging Dylan to meet with her. Yeah, right.

“I
see. Yes, I can certainly understand that he ‘has a lot on his plate,’ as you
put it, so perhaps I’ll try again when things settle down for him. There is
another matter you
could
help me with, though,” she said.

Ryan
raised his eyebrows. He could actually feel the walls of his bladder reaching
the breaking point, and really wanted to get her out of his office so he could
make a beeline for the restroom. “What’s that?”

 “Well,
I would very much like to attend the Millers’ wedding,” she said with the same
expressionless face she’d use to discuss a business merger or acquisition.
“Perhaps he’d be more likely to meet with me once we’ve developed a bit of a
social relationship. Surely you could do me that small favor.”

Small
favor? Ryan could almost feel his mouth hanging open. He stared at her for a
moment, wondering if it was actually possible that she’d really just asked him
that question and then said, “Excuse me?”