chapter Eleven
Liam stood at the entrance to the terrace where the ceremony would take place. As instructed, he was wearing a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and white silk tie and vest. A few minutes earlier, Ariella had pinned a white gardenia to his lapel. He looked every bit the proper groom, even if he didn’t feel quite like one.
Beyond the doors was possibly the greatest wedding ever assembled on such short notice. Rows of white chairs lined an aisle strewn with swirls of white and pink rose petals. Clusters of flowers and light pink tulle draping connected the rows. A small platform was constructed at the front to allow everyone a better view of the ceremony. A large archway of white roses and hydrangeas served as a backdrop and were the only thing blocking the view of the city and the sunset that would be lighting the sky precisely as they said their vows.
About an hour ago, Ariella had given him a sneak peek of the ballroom where the reception would be. It seemed as if an army of people was working in there, getting everything set up. The walls were draped in white fabric with up-lighting that changed the colors of the room from white, to pink, to gray. Tables were covered with white and delicate pink linens with embroidered overlays. Centerpieces alternated between tall, silver candelabras dripping with flowers and strings of crystals and low, tightly packed clusters of flowers and thick, white candles in hurricane vases. In the corner was a six-tiered wedding cake. Each round tier was wrapped at the base with a band of Swarovski crystals. The cake was topped with a white and pink crystal-studded C.
It was beautiful. Elegant. And completely wasted on their wedding, he thought with a pang of guilt.
Nervous, and without a herd of groomsmen to buy him shots in the hotel bar, he’d opted to greet guests as they came through the door. The wedding party itself was small with no attendants, but there were nearly a hundred guests. It had been a lightning-quick turnaround with electronic RSVPs, but nearly everyone invited had said yes, even if just out of morbid curiosity. So far, no one had asked any tacky questions at the door, like when the baby was due, but he was certain talk was swirling around the crowd inside.
“Ten minutes,” Scarlet reminded him as she brushed by him in her headset, a clipboard clutched to her chest.
Ten minutes. Liam swallowed hard and pasted the wedding-day smile back on his face. In less than a half hour, he would be legally bonded to Francesca with all his friends and family as witnesses. A month ago, he’d been celebrating his purchase of ANS and looking forward to the excitement of fulfilling his dream of running a major network. Now he was about to marry a virtual stranger to keep the dream from crumbling into a nightmare.
“Liam,” a proper female voice called to him.
He looked up to see Aunt Beatrice rolling toward him in a wheelchair pushed by Henry. He knew she was sick, but seeing her in a wheelchair was startling. Surely she could still walk? He thought back to every time he’d seen her in the past month. She had already been seated whenever he arrived. On their last few visits, she hadn’t so much as stood up or walked over to get something from her bag. Now he realized it was because she couldn’t. She’d done well hiding it until now.
“Aunt Beatrice,” he said with a smile, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek. “And Henry,” he added, shaking the butler’s hand. He had a new appreciation for the quiet, older man who had served and loved his aunt all these years. “Seats have been reserved for you both in the first row on the right.”
Aunt Beatrice nodded, and Henry rolled them into the room. There wasn’t a “congratulations” or a “last chance to back out” from her. She hadn’t even bothered to question him about his and Francesca’s relationship any longer. He supposed that even if they were faking it, as long as it was legally binding, she was getting her way. She probably figured that within a year, they’d fall for each other for real. Or she’d be dead and wouldn’t care any longer.
“Liam,” Ariella said, approaching him quietly from the side. “We have a problem.”
He wasn’t surprised. As quickly as this had come together, things were bound to go awry. “What is it?”
“Security has spotted an uninvited guest in the lobby heading this way.”
Liam frowned. “Who? A reporter?”
“Sort of. Angelica Pierce. How would you like us to handle this?”
Oh. That was certainly cause for a bit of excitement, especially where Ariella was concerned because Angelica had been suspended for her possible involvement in the hacking scandal that had revealed Ariella as the president’s secret daughter. “Don’t do anything. She’s liable to make a scene if we have her escorted out. Better just to let her come and act like it’s not a big deal.”
Ariella nodded. “Agreed.” She turned away and muttered into her headset. “Five minutes,” she added, before disappearing toward the room serving as a bridal suite.
Liam busied himself greeting other guests and tried not to worry about Angelica. He’d only met the woman in person once, and he got the distinct impression that she was a suck-up who would do anything to keep her job. Right now, she was suspended pending the results of Hayden Black’s investigation, so he wasn’t surprised she’d shown up today. She was here to make an appearance and kiss up to her boss and his new bride.
He hoped that was all she was up to. He knew for a fact that Hayden and his fiancée, Lucy Royall, were already inside. Lucy was Graham Boyle’s stepdaughter and there was some bad blood between her and Angelica. With any luck, they would sit far apart and not cross paths the whole evening. But he wasn’t feeling very lucky today.
That’s when he saw her. “Angelica,” he said with a smile, accepting the hug she offered. “So good to see you.” He wanted to keep this evening together, so he wasn’t about to let on that she was an unwelcome party crasher.
Angelica seemed very pleased by the warm welcome. She’d certainly dressed up for the occasion, looking radiant even, if not a touch heavier than she had been a few weeks ago. Her face was rounder and her purple dress was a bit snug. The stress of Hayden’s investigation must have been catching up with her.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I just love weddings. And my boss’s wedding is an especially important event. I wish you both great happiness together.”
Liam smiled and thanked her, turning to the next guests approaching. It was his rival network’s former star, Max Gray and his new bride, Cara. They’d been married in March and had just come back from their extended honeymoon in Australia. The two of them were practically beaming with love for each other, and Cara’s dress showed the gentle swell of her pregnancy. She had started doing public relations for D.C. Affairs since leaving the White House, but he could tell that motherhood was her true calling. She was just glowing.
As they approached the door, they both stopped to watch Angelica go inside. Max’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening. His field research had helped uncover the hacking scandal back in January. “What is she doing here?” he asked.
Liam shrugged. “Trying to make friends, I suppose. Did you two have a nice trip?”
“Amazing,” Cara said. “We slept in late, ate great food, did some sightseeing. It was wonderful. Where are you and Francesca going on your honeymoon?”
That was a good question. “We don’t have anything planned yet. Things moved so fast and work has been so busy, we haven’t had a chance. We’re hoping things will slow down soon and we’ll have the opportunity to get away. Sounds like a trip to Australia is a great choice. I’ll have to talk to you two about it more later.”
Max and Cara went to their seats and the last few arriving guests followed them. Liam straightened his tie and took a deep breath as he saw Scarlet and another man in a suit heading toward him with determination and purpose.
“Okay, showtime. This is your officiant, Reverend Templeton. He will go down the aisle first, then you. We’ll seat the parents, and then the bride will come down the aisle with her father. Are you ready, Liam?”
That was another good question. He was ready as he was ever going to be for a corporate, shotgun marriage of convenience. The only thing that made him feel better was that he’d get to spend the next year with a sexy spitfire who made his blood boil with passion and excitement.
“I am.”
*
Francesca sat still as stone at her dressing table, letting her mother pin the large, white gardenia in her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was the perfect image of a beautiful bride on her big day. Her shiny, black hair was twisted up into an intricate updo, the gardenia pinned just to the side. Her makeup was airbrushed and flawless. She’d found the perfect gown in her size without much trouble. Even with such a time crunch, everything had worked out just as it should. It was as though this wedding was meant to be.
Only it wasn’t.
Her persistent stomachache had kept her from eating too much at breakfast or lunch. She had a plate of fruit and crackers beside her that she would pick at from time to time, but it just made the feeling worse.
Not even a saltine cracker could cure the ache of impending doom. This wedding was a mistake. She knew it. But the part of her that loved Liam and cared for ANS and its employees was overpowering her common sense.
She took one last look at herself in the mirror and inhaled a deep breath to pull herself together. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not while her parents’ concerned eyes were watching her.
Since her father had come in, he’d been sitting in the corner, scowling in his tuxedo. Honestly, he’d had the same look on his face since she had met them at the hotel the day before. There had been a moment when he first saw her in her gown that his expression had softened and tears came to his eyes, but it hadn’t lasted long.
Francesca was pretty sure her own wary appearance hadn’t helped. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had to save her smiles and energy for the wedding and reception.
“Are you okay, bella?” her mother asked. She was a tinier version of Francesca, with the same dark eyes and warm brown skin. Her thick, brown hair was pulled back into a bun, with elegant streaks of gray running through it like professionally added highlights. She was wearing a shimmering gray dress with a jacket. Ariella had pinned a pink and white rose corsage to her lapel earlier. Her father had one very similar on his tuxedo.
Francesca nodded and stood, straightening her gown. She’d hoped for and found a white, strapless gown; there had been many to choose from because that style was in fashion. This one had a lace overlay that went to the floor and was delicately embroidered in a pattern with silver beads, crystals and pearls down to the chapel train. What she liked best about it was the silver sash around her waist with a crystal embellishment in the center. It accented her hourglass figure and gave the dress a little something special.
“Why do you ask?” Francesca asked innocently.
“You just don’t look as happy as I was expecting. Where is my beautiful, blushing bride?” Her mother reached up to gently caress her face.
She stopped fidgeting with the dress and smiled, gripping her mother’s hand reassuringly. “Yes, Mama, I am fine. I’m just a little nervous.”
“You should be, marrying a man you hardly know,” her father snarled from the corner.
“Victor!” her mother scolded over her shoulder. “We discussed this. We did the same thing, didn’t we? And aren’t you happy thirty years later?”
He shrugged and slumped into his chair. This was one argument he would lose, and he knew it. But he didn’t have to like it. Francesca could easily see where she got her own stubborn streak and fiery temper.
“Mama, could you give me that small hand mirror so I can see the back?”
Donatella handed her the silver mirror and Francesca held it so she could make sure everything looked okay. Satisfied, she laid it on the edge of the dresser, but it tipped with the heavy weight of the handle and fell to the floor with a crash.
“Oh, no,” Francesca lamented, crouching down to pick up the shattered hand mirror. There were only a few slivers of the reflective surface left, the rest scattered on the floor. Slumping into her chair, she looked at the broken glass and shook her head. “Seven years bad luck,” she said. “As though I needed another sign.”
“Nonsense,” her mother chided. “Your nonna filled your head with silliness when you were a child. This means nothing aside from having to sweep up and buy a new mirror. Your marriage will be whatever you make it. And if you believe in your heart that it is doomed before it starts, you’ll be right. You must fill your heart and soul with joy, not fear, as you walk down that aisle, bella.”
Francesca hoped her mother was right. She should ignore the signs and try to make the most of her year with Liam. It was all she was going to get so she shouldn’t spend the precious time she had moping about losing him.
A gentle rap sounded at the door and Ariella stuck her head in. “Mrs. Orr, it’s time for you to be seated. I’ll be back for the bride and her father in just a moment.” She gave Francesca a quick wink of encouragement as they slipped out of the room.
Now was the moment Francesca was dreading the most. Five minutes alone with her father without her mother to be the buffer. Hopefully she could distract him with idle conversation until Ariella returned.
“How do I look, Daddy?”
The large Irishman crossed his arms over his chest and admired her for a moment before he spoke. “Like the saddest, most beautiful bride I have ever seen.”
Francesca frowned at him. How could he see into her so well? “I’m smiling. Why do you think I’m sad?”
“There’s something in your eyes. Something isn’t quite right about all this—I can tell.”
“Don’t be silly, Daddy.”
Victor stood up and walked over to her. He helped Francesca up from her seat and held her hand tightly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you love him.”
Francesca fixed her gaze on her father. If she really wanted to back out of this wedding, this was her chance. All she had to do was say the word and he would have her on a plane to California before Aunt Beatrice knew what hit her. But she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t.
She had to answer him honestly, or he would know. He sensed a problem, but he was barking up the wrong tree. If he wanted the truth of the matter, he should be asking Liam these questions. Without blinking, she spoke sincere words to him. “Yes, I love Liam. Very much.”
“And you want to marry him?”
She did. It was fast, but she had fallen hard for her fiancé. Her trepidation was in knowing that no matter how she felt about him, their marriage would be over this time next year. How could she walk down the aisle knowing their wedding was a pointless exercise? Yes, it would save ANS and make a dying woman happy, but Francesca herself would be crushed in the process.
“Yes, Daddy. I want to marry Liam.”
His gaze moved over her face, looking for a thread to pull at to unravel the truth, but there was nothing to find.
Another knock at the door came and Ariella stepped in holding Francesca’s bouquet.
“It’s beautiful,” Francesca said as she took the flowers and admired them. There were pink and white roses, white hydrangeas and tiny white stephanotis. She’d given Ariella very little direction on this wedding, but with the bouquet, at least, she’d hit the nail on the head. Everything else would likely be just as perfect.
“Did you expect anything less?” she said with a smile. “It’s time.”
Francesca’s father took her by the arm and led them down the hallway to the terrace. When she got the cue, Ariella opened the doors. They stepped onto the balcony to the sound of music from a string quartet. A hundred people stood up from their seats and turned to look Francesca’s way as they kicked through rose petals down the aisle.
She was almost halfway down the aisle when she finally got the nerve to look at Liam.
Francesca had avoided it because she didn’t want to see the truth in his eyes. He would likely look nervous. Maybe even fearful for what he’d gotten himself into. There would be no tears of love and joy. He would not be beaming with pride after seeing the woman he adored looking more beautiful than ever before. She knew she would be disappointed. But she looked anyway.
When her gaze met his, she felt her stomach do a flip. He looked so incredibly handsome. She’d seen him in a tuxedo before, but there was something different about the way he looked tonight. It was the expression on his face. There wasn’t love there, but she did see admiration. Unmasked attraction. Deep respect. He knew how big a sacrifice she was making for him and he appreciated it. He just didn’t love her for it. Not the way she loved him.
Francesca had to remind herself to smile and not get lost in her thoughts as they took the last few steps to the ceremony platform.
The minister began the ceremony, and her father leaned in to kiss her before handing her over to Liam for good. She couldn’t meet his eyes then. If he saw the panic and fear there, he’d drag her down the aisle while everyone watched in horror. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned in to his kiss.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too.”
At that, he put her hand in Liam’s and they stepped up together to be married.
Francesca thought she would be okay until she had to take that first step and her knees turned soft. It was only Liam’s firm, reassuring grasp that kept her upright. He guided her to the minister, her hand clasped tightly in his.
“I won’t let you fall. We can do this,” he whispered with a smile and a wink.
She nodded and squeezed his hand.
The ceremony began, but it was a blur to her. The minister spoke, she repeated her vows, they exchanged rings and the next thing she knew, she was kissing her husband in front of a hundred people.
The roar of applause and the cheers were like a slap in the face, snapping her back into reality. The minister presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Liam Crowe as they turned to the audience. She clung to Liam’s arm as they walked back down the aisle together as husband and wife.
When they rounded the corner to exit the terrace, Ariella was waiting for them. She escorted them back to the bridal room to wait for pictures while the guests made their way to the ballroom for cocktails.
Francesca rested her bouquet on the dressing table beside the broken mirror and slumped into her chair.
It was done. They were married.
They still had to sign the official paperwork for the license, but that would arrive any second now.
She almost couldn’t believe it. She felt numb, like she was walking through a dream wedding instead of one in real life. It had been a beautiful ceremony, but it wasn’t how she imagined her wedding day would be. No matter how many different ways she had pictured her big day, there was always a common element.
She looked over at Liam. He eyed the champagne glasses for a moment before crossing the room to pick them up. He handed one to her and held out his own for a toast.
“One day of marriage done. Three hundred and sixty-four to go.”
With a sigh, she took a deep draw from her champagne flute and closed her eyes before the tears threatened to spill over.
One critical thing was missing from her fantasy wedding: a man who loved and adored her more than anything else on earth. And that was the one thing Scarlet and Ariella hadn’t been able to provide.