Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (2 page)

Now it was Robert Baron-Wilde’s turn to talk. After wiping away some tears with his pocket-handkerchief, he guided his aging mother to her seat, kissed his adoring wife on the lips, then straightened and addressed their guests.

“Well,” he chuckled. “Following Bryanna Charles in the spotlight is no easy thing! Thanks for that, Mom.” The room laughed along with his jest.

“I had no idea that you and Dad made a bet around my stupidity, but I’m glad you did and more glad than you’ll ever know that Darcy hadn’t slammed the door shut on a future with me.” Smiling down at his wife, he drawled, “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t make me crawl, beg, cry, plead, and whine until she finally agreed to marry my sorry ass. I’m not surprised at all to learn that you may have had a hand in that, Mom.”

Bryanna waved her hand at him and shook her head as if to imply she was innocent—but everyone in the room now knew better.

“I thought that our wedding day was the most important event we’d ever share—but I was wrong when four years after that momentous occasion our family started to grow.” Reaching down to grab hold of his wife’s hand, he bent over and raised it to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss upon her knuckles.

With her hand in his, Robert turned watery eyes on the three young women sniffling and smiling at them from a front table.

“My beautiful wife gave me a love I am thankful for every single day and blessed our marriage with the birth of three wonderful, amazing daughters who have given us more joy than we ever imagined.” A murmur of acknowledgment greeted his words.

“You know, daughters are like snowflakes. They are the same on the outside, beautiful, loving, and kind. But on the inside, each is totally unique and completely different from her sisters.”

Darcy Baron-Wilde blew her children a kiss and mouthed
I love you,
as the girls struggled to keep their composure.

“Our first blessing was Brynn. In every way that counts, she is a Baron-Wilde through and through. Her mother and I are so proud of what she’s doing, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t throw in a shameless plug for the business she started all by herself. I expect everyone in this room to get their asses upstate to visit the Wilde Bakery, and hopefully, by this time next year, the Baron’s Tea Room will have a grand opening. We love you, sweetie.”

Brynn pressed her lips together to stop the torrent of tears threatening to fall while her two sisters on either side hugged her tight.

“Two years after our Brynnie lit up our lives, a real firecracker joined the bunch when Rhiann came along. Always a girly-girl, I never remember her in anything but a dress and always,
always
with a new pair of shoes! Quite the fashionista, even as a schoolgirl, even though her love of footwear only grew worse as she got older.”

Laughter erupted around the room when Rhiann lifted her foot and wiggled it declaring, “Jimmy Choo,” with a silly giggle.

Robert shook his head and crooked a half smile. “Our Rhiann lives in the Big Apple now and has taken an impressive job with a high-fashion magazine where she heads the marketing department. We are so damn proud of you for chasing your dreams, daughter.” Laughing, he added, “I see your mother eyeing those shoes, honey, and I feel a New York City shopping trip coming on.”

“Good time to put my discount to good use,” Rhiann yelled out with a hooting laugh.

Then he turned a warm, loving smile on Charlize. “And then there’s sweet Charlie. Darcy had a hard time with our third and she was something of a surprise, but one we give thanks for every day.” Looking around the room as he tightened his grip on his wife’s fingers, he covered their clasped hands with his other and smiled indulgently. “Did you know that Charlize has just graduated from art school? Quite an accomplishment. Right now, she’s helping Brynn finish the remodeling at Mom and Dad’s old farmhouse, and before too long, she’ll be off to Italy where she’s been accepted into a prestigious art academy. Pottery and glass, right, sweetie?” he asked as Charlie beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Our three snowflakes. The same but distinctly different.”

Darcy rose and stood next to her husband as he handed her a flute of champagne. Holding his glass high, Robert offered a toast saying, “We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for coming out tonight to honor us with this marvelous celebration.”

Tipping his glass toward those gathered, he clinked his glass with his wife, and with arms entwined, the long-married couple drank.

Turning toward their daughters, they raised their glasses again. “To our snowflakes. We love you, Brynn, Rhiann, and Charlize.”

“Hear, hear,” someone called out.

Bryanna Charles Baron-Wilde got the last word in, of course, when she raised her glass to all present and said, “To my son, Robert, his beautiful bride, Darcy, and their three magnificent daughters. Wishing you all love, laughter, and a lifetime of happiness.”

“R
HIANN. THERE’S A PHONE CALL for you on line two. And when you’re finished with the call, Mr. Ashforth would like to see you upstairs in the executive suite.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake,
Rhi groaned. She’d been doing cartwheels to keep from having to face the CEO of Black Phoenix Group. The very idea of having to answer to the man who broke her foolish twenty-year-old heart made her jaw lock up.

Liam Ashforth was back in her life, and she wasn’t happy about it. She’d lucked out when he’d gone off to Europe right after acquiring
Passion,
the high fashion magazine she worked for, even though that meant having to deal with the unctuous Kim Walsh. As chief financial officer for Liam’s global business, she had absolute authority, which she wielded like the vicious bitch she was turning out to be. Having made it abundantly clear that she felt a fashion magazine was beneath the dignity of BPG, she’d been making everyone’s life a living hell. She was a mean-spirited, venomous bitch who Rhiann had disliked on sight.

To make matters worse, she’d been a particular shit toward Rhiann’s department, putting everyone on notice that BPG’s CFO was going to be personally overseeing each and every expenditure and department request. She thought the communications, marketing, and advertising departments were, as she put it, spending money like they printed it.
Bitch.
With every passing day, Rhiann’s supposedly fabulous New York life was slowly crumbling to dust, bit by bit.

Snatching up the phone, she squared her shoulders, ready for another round of business fuckery and pushed the button for line two.

“Rhiann Wilde,” she answered while clicking her impeccably manicured nails on her desk.

An exasperated sounding voice came across the line howling, “I need your help, Rhi.”

Hearing her older sister’s pitiful wail struck straight in her heart. “Oh, my god, what’s wrong, Brynn?”

“I just can’t,” her sister babbled. “It’s too much for my brain to process.”

“Aw, honey. Relax, okay? Take a deep breath and tell me what’s happening. It’s not good for the baby for you to be so ferklempt.”

Brynn barked out a laugh. “Ferklempt? Good heavens, Rhi!”

She chuckled. “Shut up, you. Now tell me what’s got your knickers in a twist.”

She heard Brynn sigh, as well as what sounded like a stack of papers rustling. “You’re going to have to do this, Rhi, I have baby brain or something.”

“Ooookay. Do what exactly?” Sensing that she needed to focus, Rhiann sat forward and put her forehead into the hand whose elbow was resting on the desk.

“Plan the wedding, of course! I printed out a bunch of lists, but it’s all just a blur. Help!”

“Uh, wedding? What wedding? Who’s getting married? Have I missed a memo or something?”

“Oh shit, Rhi! I’m sorry. You’re right—I forgot to call you last night ‘cause, well . . .” Her sister snickered softly. “I guess we kinda lost our way a bit. Jax came back, and he asked me to marry him again. Squee!”

“What? Are you freakin’ serious? Oh crap, Brynnie! I think I’m going to cry.”

The sound of her sister’s voice filled with such glee loosed a thickness in Rhiann’s throat that was hard to swallow away.

“And guess what? He actually did the down on one knee thing. Oh, my god, he was so adorable. Flowers, an amazing ring, a one-hundred-year-old book of poetry, and Justin Timberlake crooning in the background.” Brynn squealed with happiness as Rhiann sat there disbelieving. Just a few days ago, her sister had been a complete mess.

“When’s the big day, sis?”

“Jax says I can have whatever I want, and I’ve decided Christmas. Just family and a couple of close friends. We’ll decorate the tearoom. It’ll be
soooo
romantic, don’t you think? I know that doesn’t leave much time for planning, but we don’t want to wait.”

A thousand ideas flashed through Rhiann’s mind. Tons of winter greenery with red berries and poinsettias. She saw a Pinterest board not long ago with a picture of gorgeous green foliage done in swags tied with beautiful ribbons and twinkle lights. Chairs with white covers and big flowing fabric bows in corresponding bridal colors. Romantic? Hell to the yeah! Would also give her great story ideas for a new book she was developing.

“Oh, and Rhi? You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you? And Charlie can be a bridesmaid. Jax has a brother he wants to stand as his best man. Dad in a tuxedo and Nana! Oh, my. She’ll be a sight, no doubt.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, sis. Settle down and take a breath! Of course, I’ll stand with you, sweetie. And don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of all the details. With Amy’s help, of course. You just focus on that man of yours and finding a dress. Something gorgeous, Brynnie. None of that tailored suit crap. Have you told the folks? Do they know about the baby yet?”

Brynn growled, and Rhiann couldn’t help but laugh. “My hunky man did the old-fashioned thing and asked for Mom and Dad’s blessing before he proposed. We called them together last night to share the news that I’d actually said ‘yes.’ Y’know, I thought maybe Mrs. Merrill suspected when she was here so we pretty much ‘fessed up about the baby, too. His folks are thrilled. Everyone’s so happy, Rhi. It’s like . . . a fairy tale or something.”

Rhiann smiled. “Looks like you get a happy ending, sis.”

She heard Brynn sigh, then murmur, “You’ll get yours, too, Rhi.”

Oh, shit.
She needed to cut this conversation off before it veered into Liam territory. That was the last thing she had needed fresh in her mind before she had to go and see him face-to-face.

“Listen, sweetie. It’s a busy day here so I have to run now, but I’ll video chat with you later, okay? Maybe you can introduce me to your Butt Whacker. Won’t that be fun?”

The sisterly chitchat ran out of steam not too long thereafter, and by the time Rhiann hung up, her head was spinning. A baby on the way and now a wedding. The Baron-Wilde family was changing, and she was happy, truly happy for Brynn. Her sister’s first marriage had been a hiccup and thank goodness it ended before the asshole she’d married did any permanent damage. Now, she seemed genuinely over-the-top, head-over-heels in love with her man.

She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. At least one of the Wilde sisters had hit the romance jackpot. Her? Not so much. And as for Charlie? Well, who in the hell knew what she was up to these days—traipsing around Italy doing Lord knows what.

Rhiann stood up and rolled her shoulders to work out some kinks then slipped into the tiny washroom tucked in the rear of her office. If she was going to survive the command performance her new boss had summoned her to, she sure as hell was going to do it looking like a million bucks. Or as close to a million as she could get.

Okay, let’s see . . . hmm. What have we here?
she thought as she peered into the mirror and took stock. Since it was just another day at the office, she’d worn her favorite sweater dress. It was a warm fawn color with a cowl neck and clung to her body in all the right places. Her understated jewelry was a unique gold chain with an interesting three-stone dangle that hung almost to her waist. A dark brown leather belt rested low on her hips. Beneath the hem that stopped a couple of inches north of her knees, black hosiery was visible above her brown suede Gucci knee-high boots. Rhi liked anything with a heel and her boots delivered, but not in an obnoxious way.

All told, her outfit was simple—classic—understated.

Next came a detailed appraisal of her hair and make-up. As usual, at some point during her busy morning, she’d gathered her hair into a messy topknot and secured it with a pencil from her desk. For a second, she considered releasing the brown mane to tumble around her shoulders but decided against it. Not wanting to give the impression she’d made any special effort whatsoever, Rhi rummaged through her bag of everyday junk until she found a hair stick with an artisan glass bead on the end—figuring the pencil was a step too far along the don’t-give-a-fuck road—and quickly jammed it into the lump of hair.

When you work around some of the top fashionistas in the business, you learn how to play up your best feature. Along with an outrageously lush head of brown hair, she’d inherited her mother’s unusual green eyes, which Rhiann figured were her best asset. A well-known celebrity make-up artist had shown her how to get a smoky look, which she quickly touched up, adding a bit of neutral lip-gloss as an afterthought.