The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque) (20 page)

The Wedding

Chapter 27

T
he morning of November twelfth, Ophelia woke up in her suite at Château Élan to a soft rap at the door. She had a sneaky suspicion who was on the other side, and she was hesitant to open it. “Go away,” she sang.

Jonas laughed. “C’mon. Open up. I just want to wish you a happy wedding day.”

She peeled back the soft sheets and stood up from her bed. “I can’t do that.” She walked over to the door. “You know it’s considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“I won’t tell anybody,” he coerced softly.

Smiling, Ophelia cracked opened the door and peeked out. On the other side stood her fiancé, holding a single long-stemmed rose.

He winked and flashed her a smile. “I brought this for you.”

Her heart melted at the kind gesture, and she opened the door farther to accept the thoughtful gift. When her hand reached out, he grasped it and brushed a feather-like kiss against her knuckles. “I’m looking forward to making you Mrs. Jonas Hinton.”

“And I can’t wait to become—”

“Hey, hey. What are you two doing?” Kailua’s voice thundered from down the hall. “Get away from that door.”

Before the engaged couple could react, Jonas was swept away by a group of Ophelia’s closest friends.

“Bye, honey,” Jonas called out. “I’ll see you at the altar.”

“It’s a date,” she shouted back.

The women switched gears and poured into Ophelia’s suite to give her a verbal thrashing.

“I know. I know. I told him it was bad luck, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for roses.” She shrugged and took a good whiff of her gift. Today was her day, and she was going to relish every moment of it.

The serving staff arrived and set up a breakfast buffet in her room for the women to nibble on while professional hair and makeup people gave everyone the glamour treatment.

The other single women all seemed to be smitten by the groom’s handsome and rich brothers. However, Kailua made it clear she had set her sights on Sterling Hinton, and promised to do physical harm to any woman she found within ten feet of the guy.

Of course, that declaration was met with a hearty round of laughter.

Ophelia happily donned a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt with the words
Mrs. Hinton
written across the top. The girls cheered and broke out into a chorus of “Going to the Chapel.”

All in all, it was a wonderful morning, filled with fun and laughter. Ophelia tried to forget that only one thing, or rather one person, would be missing on her special day. But there was nothing she could do about it, and she was just going to have to accept it.

* * *

Jonas glanced at his watch. It was three hours to showtime, and he was a nervous wreck. Of course, his brothers weren’t helping.

“Hey, I drove the Porsche,” Quentin informed him, finally reaching for his suit. “We can still make a clean getaway.”

“Will you knock it off?” Sterling said, finishing his breakfast. “Can’t you see he’s about to unravel?”

“Most men are, on that final walk toward the execution chair.”

Sterling shook his head. “Just ignore him. Those who’ve never experienced love are often jealous of those who find it.”

Jonas frowned. “Are you spitting sonnets now?”

“Nah. Mom says it all the time. Probably from some old play of hers.” He sipped his coffee. “My point is, Quentin is jealous. He couldn’t capture the heart of a quality woman if he tried.”

“What?” Quentin thundered. “Are you tossing out a challenge, bro?”

“Don’t be silly. I would challenge you to get a job first.”

“Uncle.” Quentin tossed up his hands. “Boy, you don’t play fair, do you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Jonas cleared his throat. “Hello. Remember me? The nervous wreck?”

“You can’t be a nervous wreck and not have a prenup. You need to be damn sure of this,” Quentin said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re like a broken record?”

“Yeah. You do—all the time.”

“Well, add me to the list,” Sterling said, standing and walking over to his big brother. “I, for one, am proud of you. This whole thing gives me hope that my special one might be out there, too. Though I’m not in a rush to meet her.”

Jonas laughed, and it did a lot to calm him down. He glanced at his watch again. “You know, Ophelia should be downstairs taking pictures with her parents right about now. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. Just name it.”

“Go take a peek and tell me how beautiful my bride looks. See if she looks happy.”

Sterling laughed. “My. You really are nervous.”

“If you can get her alone, tell her I love her.”

“You got it, bro.”

* * *

“Do you think Solomon is going to show up?” Diana whispered to her husband as they watched Ophelia and her mother pose.

“I wouldn’t bank on it,” Marcel said. “His flight to New York leaves shortly after Ophelia is supposed to say ‘I do.’”

Diana nervously reached for his hand. “So, what do you think? Is she about to make a mistake, or is she truly in love with Jonas?”

Drawing a deep breath, Marcel thought about it, but ended up shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know. Up until this summer, I thought I knew my two best friends pretty well, and I would have never thought things would have played out the way they have.”

“Hey, Marcel,” Ophelia called. “You’re my maid of honor. Get your butt over here.”

“That’s best man of honor, thank you.”

Diana rolled her eyes and pushed her husband forward. “Stop clowning around, and get in there.” She crossed her arms when her gaze landed on a taller version of Jonas Hinton. “Hello,” she said, wondering how long he’d been standing there. “I’m Diana.”

“Nice to meet you.” Coolly, he tilted his head and walked off.

* * *

“My money is on Solomon. No doubt he’s going to show up and crash the party,” Kailua gossiped to a group of women. “I mean, c’mon. Everybody knows how he feels about Ophelia, and I think she’s just as crazy about him. She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

“How could she not be in love with Jonas? He’s rich and gorgeous,” another bridesmaid said.

“Have you met or even seen Solomon?” Kailua asked. “Well, I have, and let me tell you, I’ve seen
all
of him. Solomon has my vote any day of the week.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. Ophelia hit the jackpot selecting him to pop her cherry.”

The group of women gasped and gathered closer.

“Solomon was her first?” someone asked.

“Yeah, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Kailua continued. “And have you all noticed how she keeps calling Jonas the wrong name? I’m telling you, something’s there, and if Solomon shows up today, we’re in for an interesting wedding.”

Sterling frowned and moved away from a concrete column behind the bridesmaids. He was more than amazed at what he could find out in a large room full of women. But what the hell was he going to tell his brother?

A woman’s laugh rang out, and Sterling turned to see Ophelia’s mother tossing her arms around her daughter. He took a moment and watched the two women.

Ophelia was indeed breathtaking in her wedding gown. His heart leaped at the sight of her, but as he watched her, he noticed her smile wasn’t as bright as the ones around her, and she seemed to keep glancing around, as if she was looking for someone.

Could it be this Solomon everyone was talking about?

He didn’t know. Suddenly, he had a bad feeling about all of this. At long last, there was a break in activity with the photographer, and he warred with himself on whether he should seize the opportunity to deliver Jonas’s message.

“Sterling.”

Ophelia spotted him before he could make a decision. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, approaching.

“What are you doing down here?” She smiled, walking over to him. “Don’t tell me Jonas sent you down here to spy on me.”

“Sounds like you know him pretty well.”

“I am about to marry him.”

He studied her and nodded. “He wanted me to deliver a message.”

“And what’s that?”

“He wanted me to tell you he loves you.”

Ophelia’s cheeks darkened prettily. “Well, tell Solomon I love him, too.”

Sterling’s smile froze.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. I better head on up. I think we’re supposed to be getting ready to come down here when you guys are done.”

She smiled and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Now, don’t you dare tell him what this dress looks like. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“You got it.” As he watched her walk away, he drew in a deep breath. What the hell was going on? The long walk back to the elevators and his journey up to his brothers’ floor took forever, and still ended too soon. Maybe in this case, silence was golden. After all, he’d only heard a bunch of gossip and a simple name switch. He’s done that before. He knocked on his brothers’ suite door and waited until someone opened it.

A nervous Jonas, completely dressed in his wedding attire, turned from the mirror to beam a smile at him, and Sterling’s heart squeezed. “Hey, Quentin. Could you give me and Jonas a few minutes alone?” he asked.

Quentin’s brows rose while his gaze shifted between the brothers.

Jonas nodded for Quentin to go ahead.

“All right. It’s almost noon. Good enough excuse as any for a drink.”

“One drink,” Jonas warned. “You’re not going to be drunk before the wedding starts.”

Quentin saluted and strolled out the door.

Once they were alone, Jonas returned his attention to Sterling. “So what’s up?”

Sterling stalled for a moment, slid his hands into his pockets, and then met Jonas’s gaze. “What do you know about a guy named Solomon?”

Chapter 28

S
olomon took a final walk through his empty house, certain he was going to miss the old place. He had traveled all around the world, but he had always considered Atlanta home. However, the city held way too many memories, and he would rather deal with them only during the occasional visit than every day.

He glanced at his watch. It was twelve-thirty. Two hours before his flight, but an hour before…

He cursed under his breath and wished he could just stop obsessing over this. Either he was going, or he wasn’t. He slid his hands into his pockets and pulled out the crumpled wedding invitation. In the past twenty-four hours, he’d ripped it up, taped it back together, and balled it up, only to hand iron it back out.

Go. Even if it’s just to say goodbye.

Solomon pushed Selma’s words to the back his mind, but they kept coming back to haunt him, just like the memory of his one intimate encounter with his best friend. He remembered how he’d felt watching her sleep. He’d never felt so at peace before or since that moment.

He missed that feeling.

“Knock, knock.”

Solomon turned and smiled wryly at his Uncle Willy. As usual, his uncle cleaned up well whenever he put on a suit. “Come on in, old man.”

“Hey, I always say there are two things there’s no cure for: old age and ugly—but money does one hell of a masking job for both.”

Solomon shook his head as he approached him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you’ve come to your senses or, if not, I came to wish you bon voyage.”

“Then thanks for coming to see me off. I take it you’re going to the wedding?”

“What can I say? Ophelia personally invited me.”

“And it’s a good place to hit on some new women.”

Willy winked and shot him with an imaginary gun. “You know me so well.”

“Yeah. Lucky me.”

The two men fell silent before Willy asked, “So, whatcha got there?”

Solomon crumpled up the invitation and slid it back into his pocket. “Nothing.”

His uncle nodded, but his expression clearly reflected doubt. “Is there any way I can convince you you’re making a mistake?”

“I can’t watch her marry someone else.” Solomon rubbed at the sudden pain in his chest.

“Then maybe she needs convincing she’s marrying the wrong person.”

Solomon laughed. “You keep surprising me with this hopeless romantic act you have going now.”

“I’m nothing if not a bag of contradictions.” He glanced at his watch. “Last chance. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Solomon shook his head.

“Not even just to say goodbye?”

He stopped and stared at his uncle. It was the second time this was suggested to him. Maybe he should. Would it at least give him a sense of closure?

Willy slid an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “So, what do you say?”

* * *

It was twenty minutes before the ceremony, and Ophelia felt faint. Everyone scrambled around, getting her water and fanning her to cool her down. She kept saying she was fine, but in truth, she was feeling anything but. Who knew she could have so many conflicting thoughts crammed inside her head?

“Are you all right?” Diana asked, smiling.

Again she nodded. “Please tell me this is normal.”

“Do you feel like you want to throw up?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfectly normal,” Diana assured with a wink.

Ophelia smiled, not quite sure if she believed her new friend. Every nerve in her body seemed to be twisted in knots, and the pain in her chest throbbed mercilessly. “You wouldn’t happen to have some Tums with you?”

Diana blinked. “Uh, I can send someone to find some for you, if you like.”

Ophelia lowered her head into the palms of her hands and combated another wave of nausea. “I think I’m going to need it. That, or some Pepto-Bismol.”

“That bad?” Diana inquired.

“Why, is that not normal?” Ophelia asked with rising panic.

“Yes, yes. You’re fine. I’ll see if I can get Marcel to get you some.” Diana sprang into action.

“Thanks, girls.” Ophelia addressed her other bridesmaids. “You can stop fanning me now.”

Everyone put down the numerous magazines and leaflets and glanced nervously at each other.

Ophelia suddenly felt like a freak in her own sideshow and didn’t really know what to say to anyone. It appeared that they didn’t have a clue either.

A quick knock came at the door, and Ophelia’s mother rushed inside. “What’s going on?” Her gaze found her daughter. “Someone said that you were sick. What’s the matter?” She crossed the room and immediately placed her hand across Ophelia’s forehead. “You’re warm.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. You need to get out to your seat. Everything is going to get started soon.”

“But—”

“Really, Mom. Please. It’s all right.”

“Okay.” Isabella brushed a kiss against her cheek and then pulled out a silver box from her purse. “I can’t leave until I give you this.”

Ophelia’s eyes lit up as she reached for the gift. “What—?”

“It’s from your father and me. You need something new.”

“Wait, wait.” Kailua dashed across the room. “You’ll need something old, and something blue.”

Ophelia flashed her ring. “I have the blue covered.” She opened the box and gasped at a pair of diamond teardrop earrings. “Mom.”

Isabella leaned forward and planted another kiss against her cheek. “We love you, baby. And we’ll support whatever choice you make.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Ophelia smiled but wondered at her mother’s meaning while she took out her diamond stud earrings and replaced them with her parents’ gift.

“Well, I took the liberty of getting something old from your jewelry box this morning,” Kailua announced and returned to Ophelia’s side. “Maybe you’ll remember this from years ago.”

Curious, Ophelia opened the box and froze at the sight of her old tennis bracelet—Solomon’s gift on her twenty-first birthday.

“Didn’t you tell me this was a fake?” Kailua asked, withdrawing the bracelet and carefully loping it around Ophelia’s wrist.

“Yeah. Solomon found a copy of the one I really wanted from this jewelry store. It’s a convincing zirconium, don’t you think?”

“A little too convincing—which is why I took it to be appraised. Honey, this little baby is real.”

“What? But how? Solomon was broke in college.”

“Maybe you should ask him.” Kailua connected the prongs and smiled. “That’s if you ever speak to him again.”

Ophelia lowered her hand. The weight of her old bracelet seemed extraordinarily heavy—just like the engagement ring in the opposite hand.

Diana rushed back into the room with the wedding planner close on her heels.

“Believe it or not, we found you some Tums and some chewable Pepto-Bismol. Which ones do you want?”

“Give me two of each,” Ophelia said.

Diana brows rose, but she obligingly unwrapped the tablets and placed them in Ophelia’s hand.

The wedding planner clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “I need you ladies downstairs. The carriages are ready.”

The bridesmaids gathered excitedly and filed out of the room.

“Remember what I said.” Isabella gave her a final kiss and rushed out of the room.

“Are you feeling any better?” Diana inquired.

In truth, the tablets seemed lodged in her throat, but Ophelia responded, “I’m doing much better. Thanks.” She carefully stood up and took a last glance at herself in the mirror. To her, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. The weight of the jewelry on each hand increased, and the pain in her chest refused to ease.

“Are you ready, baby girl?” the Corporal asked from the doorway.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she whispered and turned a bright smile toward her father.

“Then let’s get you married.”

* * *

Framed against a landscape of lush vineyards and rolling hills in the northern reaches of Atlanta, the sixteenth-century style French Château Élan was the backdrop of Jonas and Ophelia’s wedding. The crisp fall afternoon was perfect as six hundred friends and family members took their seats.

Yet despite the kiss of a cool breeze, Jonas felt stuffy and kept fingering his collar. When that didn’t work, he worried about the fast pounding of his heart. Surely he wasn’t about to have a heart attack.

The sound of carriages reached his ears, and in the next second the music changed and the processional music began.

Everyone turned in their seats to watch the first bridesmaid and groomsman walk down the aisle.

Jonas suddenly winced at a pain in his chest, and it was probably the first time his stomach ever twisted into knots. Of course, Quentin strolled down the aisle with his usual self-confident strut while silently flirting with the woman on his arm. Jonas rolled his eyes and waited patiently as the rest of the wedding party took their turn down the aisle.

The best man and man of honor strolled down the aisle without linking arms, but they still made an amusing sight. However, Jonas did his best not to meet Sterling’s questioning gaze. When the men finally took their places, the music dramatically changed to the wedding march, and everyone stood and waited.

But after a few bars, the bride failed to appear, and people started glancing at one another.

Jonas closed his eyes and discreetly rubbed at the increasing pain in his chest. The march ended and after a brief pause, the organ player started again.

This time, Ophelia and her father stepped into view, and a collective sigh of relief rose just above the music.

Ophelia’s beauty surpassed Jonas’s expectations. As she approached, smiling, he was certain he’d forgotten how to breathe. What in the world had he done to deserve this woman? It was hard to believe he was just moments away from officially making her his wife.

When she at last reached his side, the Corporal leaned over and kissed his daughter’s cheek.

All three turned to face the minister.

“Excuse me. Excuse me,” a man’s loud whispering reached Jonas’s ear, and he glanced back to see a large man, toting a cigar, make his way to an empty chair.

Minister Bulmash smiled down at them before addressing the crowd. “We welcome you today to the marriage of Jonas William Hinton and Ophelia Rose Missler. We are met together in the presence of their dearest family and friends to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. This is indeed a joyful time, in which we witness the love of these two people expressed in the joining of their lives together.”

Jonas drew in a deep, steadying breath and glanced over at his bride, but before he was able to pull his gaze away, he noticed her hand fiddling with a bracelet on her arm, and then her ring. While the minister went on, he studied her face and noticed how she was growing paler by the second.

“Ophelia and Jonas, do you both come freely, and without reservation, desiring to commit yourselves to one another in this covenant of marriage?”