Читать книгу Best Man for the Bridesmaid - Jennifer Faye - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

THE SILENCE STRETCHED OUT.

The longer it took Stefano to answer her, the more concerned Jules became. With her sister’s happiness at stake, Jules couldn’t let the subject drop. Not without some answers.

She turned in her seat in order to gauge Stefano’s expression. “Why do you want them to delay the wedding?”

He sighed. “I just think they are rushing into this without thinking it through.”

“It sounds to me like you’re opposed to the wedding.” Jules sank back against the leather seat. Surely she had to be jet-lagged and reading too much into his reserved demeanor and hesitant words. Perhaps she needed to be more direct. “Will you try and stop the wedding?”

Jules studied his handsome face with its aristocratic features for some indication of his thoughts. Because there was no way she’d let anyone come between Lizzie and her happiness. Over the years, when they’d fantasized about the future, Lizzie had always dreamed of meeting Mr. Right. But neither of them had ever invested much hope in those dreams. Until now. This was Lizzie’s chance to live out her dream.

Though that meant breaking up their small family and the thought saddened Jules, she refused to dwell on it. Lizzie’s happiness had to be the priority. And on a positive note, this meant Jules would at last gain her freedom to make all her own choices. They’d been making decisions together since they were kids, but now it was time they each stood on their own. And for Jules that meant making her own career choice—one Lizzie wouldn’t approve of.

And if Jules was ready to see her foster sister—her only family—move an ocean away so that she would be happy, what possible reason could Stefano find to object to the wedding? Or was she reading him wrong? It was so hard to tell—his tanned face wasn’t giving her any clues about his thoughts.

“I’m waiting for an explanation.” She crossed her arms. No way was she going to drop the subject until they sorted it out.

“Fine. I’ll admit it. I’m not a fan of marriage.”

“This particular marriage? Or just marriage in general?” She could have sworn that Lizzie had mentioned he was married. Maybe that was it. Maybe he and his wife had hit a rough patch. “Aren’t you married?”

“I was.” His knuckles on the steering wheel gleamed white. “She died.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Great job, Jules. Talk about opening your mouth and inserting your size-six boot.

“And for the record, it’s not my place to say whether the wedding should go on or not. My brother has a mind of his own.”

“Good.” She settled back against the smoky-gray leather seat. “I don’t want anything ruining this wedding for them.” She gave him a pointed look, but Stefano didn’t give her the satisfaction of looking her way. “We have a lot to plan between now and next spring or summer. Have they mentioned to you if they’ve picked a date?”

“No. But it sounded to me like it is going to be sooner than next year.”

“They can’t move up the wedding. That would be a nightmare. There’s just too much to arrange. Besides, if they were doing something like that, they’d have told us. After all, you’re the best man.”

Stefano sighed. “I suppose I am. But that just means they’ll tell me when and where to show up.”

“You really think you’ll get off that easily?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Men don’t care about all of that stuff. Weddings are for women.”

“We’ll see about that.” Did he really believe that? Was he that jaded? Or was it grief over losing his wife?

“I guess we will.”

She pressed her lips firmly together. She’d been in Rome less than an hour. It wouldn’t do to wage war with Lizzie’s future brother-in-law.

Jules inhaled a deep, calming breath and noticed the very fine automobile had a wonderful new car scent. Her gaze strayed to the dash, where Stefano’s long, lean fingers were adjusting the controls on a large touch screen. Soon the velvet sounds of an Italian baritone replaced the oppressive silence.

She leaned her head back and turned to the window. She took in the golden glow of the sun over the city. People were out and about—neighbors filling each other in on the events of the day. Children were running around laughing and playing. Jules smiled, liking what she’d seen so far.

She couldn’t believe that she was truly in Italy. Her friends back at the New York City coffee shop where she worked were never going to believe this. She’d definitely have to get lots of photos before catching her flight in a week.

When the car pulled to a stop, Stefano turned to her. “We’re here.”

So this was Ristorante Massimo.

Jules stared out the window at the line of patio tables with red umbrellas. And the double red doors with large brass handles that led to the dining area. This was where her sister had lost her heart—this was where Lizzie intended to spend the rest of her life.

The breath caught in Jules’s throat. She might at last be gaining her freedom, but at what cost? She blinked repeatedly. She’d told herself the whole flight here that she wouldn’t melt into a sobbing mess.

A hand pressed against her shoulder. “Julianne...um, Jules, are you okay?”

She nodded and blinked, tucking her emotions into that trusty box she’d been using since the days of being shuttled in and out of foster homes. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, hoping that when she spoke her voice wouldn’t waver. “I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you go inside? I’m sure Lizzie is anxious to see you. I’ll grab your luggage and meet you in there.”

She agreed and made her way inside. The restaurant was quite large, and a wall of photos was the first thing to grab her attention. There were framed photos of various sizes and all manner of frames starting at the ceiling and trailing down to the floor. As she passed by, she noticed some famous faces. Wow! This place must be really upscale.

“Jules, is that you?” Lizzie came rushing toward her.

In no time, they were wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt so good to be with her sister again. They both started to talk at once. It wasn’t until they glanced around and saw Dante and Stefano observing them with amusement dancing in their eyes that both women realized their lack of manners.

Lizzie stepped in the middle of everyone. “Jules, I’d like you to meet Dante, my future husband. Dante, this is my sister, Julianne, but everyone calls her Jules.”

“Hello, Jules.”

“Hi.” When she went to hold her hand out to him to shake, he pulled her forward and gave her a big hug.

She hesitated at first. This wasn’t the sort of greeting she was accustomed to. It certainly wasn’t the sort of greeting she’d received from Stefano. When Dante let her go, she gazed up at him. He was almost as tall as Stefano. But he wasn’t nearly as disarmingly handsome as his older brother.

“Don’t frown at me,” Dante said lightly. “We’re family and you’ll soon find that the DeFiores are huggers.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

From what Lizzie had told her most of the family lived outside the city on a vineyard. Too bad there wouldn’t be time to visit, but Jules didn’t want to overstay her welcome or crowd the lovebirds. Her mission was to check out the groom, catch up with Lizzie and get wedding details—lots of details. It was never too soon to plan the perfect wedding, and Lizzie deserved no less.

“Let’s go upstairs and get you settled.” Lizzie started for the front door of the restaurant.

“Where exactly are we going?” Jules asked, looking around and trying to get her bearings.

Dante spoke up. “There are apartments above the restaurant. And the entrance is outside.”

“Sounds good. We can get started right away on the wedding plans. We don’t have time to waste.” Jules grabbed for her purse. Before she could reach for her carry-on, Stefano had it in hand. She turned back and followed Lizzie out the door. “Do you have a date picked out? Say, next spring? Or summer?”

“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.” There was hesitation in Lizzie’s voice.

Jules’s hand gripped the strap of her purse tighter. She sensed trouble. Were they calling the wedding off? They didn’t seem to be fighting or anything. So what was the matter?

“Lizzie, at least let your sister get settled in before you get into it.” Dante maneuvered her suitcase in through a side door and over to a waiting elevator.

“You’re right. My head is just spinning at the moment.” Lizzie turned to Jules. “Wait until you see the penthouse. It’s amazing. I think our entire apartment would fit in the guest room alone.”

Jules watched as Lizzie leaned over and placed a kiss on Dante’s lips. A look came over her sister’s face—a look of utter happiness and love. Suddenly the impact of what was about to happen struck Jules. The thought made her stomach plummet. How had she missed this before?

First, there’d been the eviction notice. Their New York apartment building was converting to expensive condos. That shock had been closely followed by the panicked search for affordable housing combined with trying to find a way to tell Lizzie that she’d had a change of heart about her future. All in all, she’d been pretty caught up in the drama that was her life.

But even with all of that, she couldn’t hide from this piece of reality forever. The backs of her eyes stung, and she blinked repeatedly. The life she’d always known—Lizzie and Jules joined at the hip—was over.

She was now alone in this great big world.

* * *

The smiles.

The I-love-you looks.

The kisses.

Stefano couldn’t wait to bolt for the door. His younger brother certainly had it bad for Lizzie. Whatever was going on with the wedding, they certainly weren’t about to call it off. Maybe they’d already eloped. Stefano ground his teeth together. The thought of his brother doing something so impulsive—so reckless—had Stefano’s whole body tensing up.

He knew what it was to love and lose. He knew the pain...and the guilt that ate at him. He didn’t want Dante to end up like him or their widowed father. DeFiore men inevitably ended up alone—one way or the other. Dante knew all of this; he just chose to ignore it. Avoidance, it was a DeFiore trait. So was stubbornness. And he couldn’t forget to toss in a driving need for independence.

“What has you so quiet this evening, big brother?” Dante clapped him on the back.

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Really? Do tell?” Dante moved through the open floor plan from the ultramodern black-and-white living room to the stainless steel galley kitchen.

“Nothing you’d be interested in hearing.”

“Aka it’s vineyard business.” Dante pulled open the fridge and perused the contents. “Want something to drink? Looks like Lizzie stocked up on everything for her sister’s arrival.”

“I’m good.”

Dante withdrew a bottle of water and unscrewed the top. “Okay, what’s eating you?”

Before Stefano could think up something to tell his brother besides the truth, the women returned. Thank goodness. He could now escape before the lovey-dovey stuff started again.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Lizzie smiled. When her eyes landed on Dante, she glowed with happiness.

“It really is amazing.” Jules twisted her hands together, looking a bit uncomfortable as the lovebirds radiated toward each other as if by magnetic force. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense—what did you have to tell us about the wedding?”

Stefano’s gaze moved from Jules, with her now sad eyes and her drawn face, to the happy couple who looked as though they belonged on the front of a Valentine’s Day greeting card. With their arms draped around each other’s waist, they looked lovingly into each other’s eyes. Stefano glanced away. He truly wanted it to last for them, but the DeFiore statistics were against them.

“Shall we tell them everything now?” Lizzie stared adoringly up at his brother.

Stefano’s gut rolled nauseously. There was only so much sugary sweetness he could stomach before he became ill. Had he and Gianna ever looked that ridiculously in love? If they had, he couldn’t recall.

“Tell them,” Dante prodded. “It isn’t like it’s a secret. And to pull this off, we’re going to need their help.”

The smile faded from Lizzie’s face. “I guess you’re right—”

“Guys, what is it?” Stefano hadn’t meant to lose his patience, but he really did want to get out of there. He needed to head back to the vineyard, where he could lose himself in work and forget the lovey-dovey stuff as well as Jules’s little purple butterfly that still tempted and teased.

He felt Jules’s narrowed gaze on him. He ignored her as he crossed his arms, willing this to be over. Soon.

“Well, the thing is,” Lizzie began, reaching for Dante’s hand, “the reason we couldn’t pick you up at the airport is that the studio contacted us for a teleconference.”

Jules implored her sister with her big emerald eyes. “Would you just tell us what they said?”

“They want to spotlight our wedding on the show—our very own cooking show.”

“That’s wonderful!” Jules rushed over and hugged her sister.

Stefano held his place. His gut grew uneasy. There was more to follow. He was certain of it.

When the girls pulled apart, Lizzie continued, “The thing is we have to have the wedding in the next two months—”

“What?” Jules’s eyes grew round. “That’s not possible. Do they know what it takes to plan a wedding?”

“They were really excited about the idea. They said it could really boost ratings.” Lizzie clutched Dante’s hand. “I...I told them we could do it.”

“You did what?” Jules’s face filled with color as she pressed her lips together.

Stefano didn’t know if Jules was going to yell or cry. And Lizzie looked upset, too. Honestly, he didn’t know what the big deal was. The only thing you needed was the bride and groom, and the rest was a bunch of froufrou.

“Jules, you don’t understand. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

His gaze ping-ponged between the two women. Tempers were rising. If someone didn’t do something, this happy reunion was going to end up in a fight. And he didn’t want to see that happen—especially when the disagreement would be over something so stupid.

“Ladies, I’m sure it can be worked out. After all, it’s only a wedding. How hard can it be?”

Suddenly everyone’s attention was on him. The two women looked as though they would send poisonous arrows his way if they could. Dante smiled and shook his head, but he didn’t say a word. So much for receiving any support from his own flesh and blood.

Jules marched over to him. She planted her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “Exactly how many weddings have you planned?”

He wasn’t about to get into that debate, but when he opened his mouth there was a distinct disconnect between his brain and his vocal cords. “It can’t be that hard. After all, the venue is all taken care of.”

“The venue is only one part of a wedding.”

“So you pick out some pretty dresses and order a cake. Nothing to stress out about.”

Jules glared at him and turned away. “Said like a man who has never planned a wedding.”

Lizzie nodded as though in total agreement. “I know this is short notice. But Dante and I were talking, and we really don’t want to wait a whole year, anyway.”

Jules’s brows lifted. “Is there some other news we should know?”

Color rose in Lizzie’s cheeks. “No. Nothing like that. We’re just anxious to get on with the rest of our lives.”

“But I’m leaving in a week.” Jules worried her bottom lip.

“I know. But if Dante and I buy you an airline ticket for a later date, to make up for the one you’ll be forfeiting, would you consider staying until after the wedding? Please.”

Stefano’s focus zeroed in on Jules. Part of him wanted her to stick with her original plans and leave soon. But a much stronger part of him wanted a chance to check out the butterfly tattoo a little closer—

No! What was he thinking? He didn’t want anything to do with her. Butterfly or no butterfly. He had no intention of getting too close—of feeling too much. The price was too steep. And on top of it all, he didn’t deserve a second chance at happiness.

“Yes, I’ll stay.” Jules crossed her arms and gave Lizzie a firm look. “You know that this is the craziest thing we’ve ever done. Whoever heard of putting together a wedding in two months?”

“We can do it.” Lizzie looked over at Dante. “Didn’t I tell you she’s amazing?”

“Yes, you did.”

Dante swept Lizzie into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Stefano averted his gaze and ended up staring at Jules. She looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. No one should be as much in love as them. Thankfully he was leaving.

At the DeFiore Vineyard there were no couples in love—no uncomfortable moments. Only memories of mistakes that couldn’t be undone.