Four Weddings and a Fling (Weddings in Westchester) Page 4

  This time the skin on her cheeks turned scarlet, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a very long time. “I’m flattered, really, I am,” she said, “but under the circumstances, I think it’s best if we just focus on our own priorities. I just panicked when Erin asked me to plan their wedding. You don’t need to be here anymore.”

  He blew out a hot breath. “So now you’re saying you can’t work with me?”

  She rubbed her hand up and down her neck. “Yes, I guess that’s what I mean.” She cleared her throat and held his gaze. “I’m sorry, Ari.” She held out her hand as if to shake his, but he ignored it. They were waaaay past the hand-shaking stage.

  He paused, trying to find the words to bring back the sparkling, open Grace he’d seen in the past. “If that’s the way you feel.”

  She nodded. “I think it’s for the best.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I’ve hired my office space in town now, and I may as well stay around until Nick and Erin’s wedding. I just want you to promise me one thing.”

  She blinked. “Which is?”

  “If you do need me, you’ll put aside your feelings and give me a call.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary,” she said. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll be getting an Uber back to the Palace.”

  Chapter Three

  On Monday afternoon, Grace fell into her office chair, breathed deeply, and stared at the planner on her desk. If she could get someone to pick up the imitation swans from the accessory store before three, then she could get to the cake shop by four and then be back here by half past, in time to send an email with the last of the table decoration proposals off to Erin, ready for a decision by the morning. Maybe then she’d have time to do the rosters for tomorrow.

  It hadn’t been easy, but she’d been pretty pleased with the way she was managing by herself since the talk with Ari. It was kind of like going on a diet, really. If the big old chocolate cake with fudge frosting and fresh cream in the middle wasn’t staring at you from the refrigerator, it was much easier to put the thought of indulging in it completely out of mind.

  Except when you are forever dreaming of licking the frosting.

  The ride on his motorcycle that day had only confirmed she couldn’t control her thoughts when she was around him, so the only way to fix that was to stop seeing him completely. And although she might’ve dreamed about him once or twice, and maybe even noticed her ears straining when one of his family members mentioned him, she was just focusing on finishing here so she could run her own business.

  No more temptation.

  The landline rang, and she considered not answering. If it was something else to squeeze into her day she didn’t quite know how she would manage it. Her OCD tendencies overpowered her, though, and she picked up the handset.

  “The Aegean Palace, Grace Bennett speaking.”

  “Ari Katsalos, please.” The male voice on the other end was sharp and brusque. But the fact she could hear his name without her pulse spiking might mean progress.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Katsalos isn’t working at the Palace any longer. Perhaps I can help?”

  The man sighed heavily. “And you are?”

  “Grace Bennett, wedding planner.”

  “Right, you’ll do,” the voice said with barely hidden irritation. “It’s Congressman Williams here. I’m sure you’ll have heard about my daughter’s wedding—the magazine stories and all that.”

  “Absolutely,” Grace said, puzzled as to why he’d be calling here when Erin had won the wager against Nick, which meant Amy Williams’s wedding was to be held at O’Malley’s next year. There’d been a lot in the papers recently about some kind of scandal with the congressman, but she hadn’t really followed it properly. “We were pleased to be able to compete to hold Amy’s wedding, but we’re sure everything will go well at O’Malley’s.”

  “That’s the thing,” Congressman Williams said. “My daughter’s wedding is going to be sooner than expected, and O’Malley’s can’t accommodate us anymore. They don’t seem to appreciate the significance of their decision, but believe me, they’ll regret it.”

  “I’d understood it was planned for next July?” Grace had already flicked to the Palace’s online booking calendar and was madly scrolling to July.

  “Yes, well, now we need it to be held next Saturday, the nineteenth.”

  Next week! Reality dawned. O’Malley’s wouldn’t be able to hold the Williams wedding there because it was Erin and Nick’s date. “You mean you’d like us to host it here?”

  “I wouldn’t want any corners cut. There’s an exclusive deal with a national publication for photos, and there will be dignitaries coming from overseas. My daughter always said she preferred your food, but I’m not going to pay for some second-rate offering in terms of venue or service. If we hold it at your place then I expect the very best of everything.”

  Grace’s heart pounded. Not only would she get to plan Erin and Nick’s wedding, she would be responsible for this one, too. Could she do it? All sorts of implications rushed through her mind. That this could finally be the saving grace for Pia and Mano. That being responsible for two of the most high-profile weddings of this year could be an incredible springboard for her own business. That there was no way on God’s good Earth she could do all of this on her own…

  “I need an answer now,” the congressman said. “You’re either in or your out.”

  Grace flicked open the planner and her eyes raced over the pages for next week. She couldn’t ask Meg and Lettie to help—they were in L.A. at an enormous bridal expo and wouldn’t be back until Monday the twenty-first.

  There was a vow renewal set for Friday afternoon, but she was pretty sure she could move it outside or maybe even earlier, in which case the reception hall would be free, but she had rehearsals to run at O’Malley’s, not to mention the entire Katsalos family returning from Greece… But then she remembered the cancelled wedding so there was an opening. Maybe this could be the fortune her horoscope had mentioned! “We’ll do it,” she said in a rush. “I’ll send through the contracts to your office this evening—”

  “My daughter will be in touch,” the congressman said across her. “And if any media contact you in the meantime, you’re to say it’s been brought forward due to my daughter’s schedule. No other reason. Understood?”

  Before she had time to answer, the congressman hung up, and she was left staring at the phone, her hands shaking and her mind sprinting. She couldn’t physically be in two places at once. And each of these weddings was going to have to be planned down to the last piece of confetti. She put her elbows on the desk and speared her fingers through her hair.

  There was really only one person who knew how important these two weddings were to the Palace. Only one person who could help her manage the return of the Katsalos family in the next few days and have a cool enough head to help her to run things smoothly. Now that Amy Williams’s wedding was to be held here, it could mean a complete turnaround in fortune for Mano and Pia Katsalos. And for their children, too. She shouldn’t try and shoulder this alone when Ari had said he’d be there to help if she needed him…

  Before she let the little devil on her shoulder change her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Damn. On impulse, she’d deleted Ari’s number the day she’d told him she wouldn’t be needing him here anymore. Remembering he’d given her a card the first day he was here, she flicked through the papers on her desk until she found it, perched precariously on the edge.

  She dialed the number, and when it went to voicemail, she left a message. “Ari, something major has come up, and I’m going to need your help.”

  After getting out of the Uber, Grace stood on the pavement outside Ari’s office and let her hand hover above the doorbell. If he was any decent sort of a human being, he’d have replied to the three messages she’d left on his phone this morning. But he hadn’t. And yet, he’d said he’d be there when sh
e needed him.

  Where the hell is he?

  She pressed the buzzer—hard. He might be the black sheep of the family, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have some manners. Maybe he’d gone back to the city? She’d made it clear she was happier working far away from him, so it’d make sense if he’d left Beauville all together.

  “Yeah.” His voice was sharp and hard.

  “Ari, it’s me, Grace.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, I was expecting someone else.”

  “I need to talk to you urgently,” she said, wishing she could keep her voice steady.

  There was silence for a moment. “Now’s not a great time,” he said. “Can I call you?”

  She’d come across town to speak to him, and he was going to blow her off? “I’ve come all the way over here, so I’d really like to speak to you now. It’s important.”

  “Okay, come up.”

  When it buzzed, she pushed the door open and made her way along a dimly lit corridor. When she was nearly at the end, a door opened, and Ari was standing there.

  He wore shorts and a black T-shirt, half tucked in, half hanging loose. His hair, never styled much, stood at all sorts of angles as if he’d been sleeping on it for hours.

  “Why haven’t you been returning my calls?” She didn’t mean to sound so abrupt, but maybe she’d interrupted him with a woman. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, that’s why he hadn’t been calling her. She’d practically told him she didn’t want to have anything more to do with him, and he’d moved on. She instinctively took a step back.

  Why am I hoping that’s not true?

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I pulled an all-nighter and must’ve fallen asleep at my desk.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, and she noticed he had bare feet. “You want coffee?”

  “An all-nighter?” Did he mean he was with a woman all night? That he’d been partying?

  “Yeah, but I finally got the information I need on this guy I’ve been following, so it was worth it.”

  He stood aside and gestured for her to come in.

  She let out a private sigh of relief that she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself.

  “Do you have your bike?” he asked, looking past her.

  “No, I caught an Uber. Ari, things have gone a bit crazy at the Palace.”

  “Really? If you want, you can have a coffee while I take a shower, then I’ll drive you back. Maybe you can tell me what’s happening on the way.”

  She should be ashamed of herself. Here was a guy, not only trying to help his parents out but trying to maintain his own business at the same time, and she’d thought the worst of him. “Okay, thanks,” she said as she moved into the room.

  “Sorry, things are a bit temporary here,” he said as he closed the door behind her.

  She stepped into a brightly lit warehouse, which was just an enormous room with a kitchen and bed side by side. Well, she assumed it was a bed. It was in the shape of one but was hidden beneath a pile of clothes and various boxes with paper hanging out of them.

  “So, you’re living here as well as using it as an office?”

  He moved past her and around behind the counter.

  He nodded. “I figured between keeping an eye on the Palace and running my PI work from here, I wouldn’t be at home much, so this is the best of both worlds. Luckily there’s a bathroom, but nowhere to wash clothes, so I need to make a trip to the laundromat.”

  She surveyed the room. A laundromat or a front-end loader. Even what he was using as a kitchen counter had packets stacked up and at least half a dozen cups spread across it. Her fingers itched to pick up the newspaper that was strewn across the floor, but she folded her arms instead.

  “As you can see, I wasn’t expecting company,” he said, but he made no attempt to pick anything up. “Just dump that pile of clothes off the stool there and have a seat.”

  She stayed where she was, determined to get out of here as quickly as she could. The thought of picking up a whole pile of clothes with his scent was too much. “I’m fine, thanks.” While Ari moved into the kitchen, he had his back to her and something caught her eye. Bits of paper, like those ripped from a school exercise book, were pinned on the walls. Were they receipts? Interview questions?

  She moved forward to take a better look, but he spoke again, and she turned back to him.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been picking up calls,” he said over his shoulder, “but there’s this guy I’ve been tailing for three weeks, and yesterday I finally found something that could close the case. Sometimes you’ve just got to strike when you can.”

  “What sort of a guy?” She imagined a big shot executive who was cheating on his wife.

  Ari pulled two coffee cups from a cupboard as he continued. “This woman who travels a lot for her job has suspected her husband has been having an affair. She’d even built it up to imagining he had a whole new family in another state, so I’ve been running an investigation for the past couple of months.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “That she was right. He is having an affair, and although he doesn’t have a whole new family, he’s setting things up to move out when the time’s right. I haven’t told her what I’ve found yet, but none of it’ll be a surprise for her. All I really need to seal the deal is some photographic evidence, and when my guy Rick can track him down to a particular location, I’ll get it done.”

  “Maybe they grew apart,” Grace said as Ari turned to the refrigerator. She took her chance to look more closely at one of the pieces on paper on the wall. Was it a poem?

  The piece was typed, but there were certain words underlined. Did he write poems? Somehow the image of the tattooed biker didn’t fit with someone who wrote poetry in his spare time. She decided to check it out properly when he was in the shower.

  He shrugged. “Could be any number of reasons. I don’t really focus on that. My aim is just to catch them.”

  “What made you choose this sort of work?” She moved toward the counter again. “It must be pretty depressing,” she said. How in the hell could someone make disheveled look so sexy?

  He shrugged a massive shoulder. “The guaranteed nature of the business,” he said. “People are always going to cheat. It’s in most people’s DNA. I figure running a business where the work is never going to dry up is smart.”

  She chuckled. “It’s kind of ironic, you doing that sort of work and your parents owning a wedding hall.”

  He turned and poured coffee into two cups. Raising his eyebrows, he said, “I guess you’ve already figured, or at least my mom would’ve told you, I’m the black sheep of the family. I’ve never really followed the Katsalos rules.”

  Her cheeks heated as she tried to pretend she hadn’t talked to Pia about her son. “You obviously care a lot about your family, and I’m sure they support you in what you do,” she said, wanting him to open up about himself but not wanting to seem too nosy.

  “We never really talk about it,” he said. “I think now that my parents are having their own marriages issues, their belief in the wedding and marriage fantasy has taken a bit of a hit.”

  “But theirs is only a hiccup, surely.” Grace couldn’t bear the thought of Mano and Pia splitting up. Sure, their relationship was fiery at times, but there was no doubt they loved each other deeply. It was the strain of the business that had caused Pia to leave for Greece. “And now with your sister and brother getting married…”

  He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, looking like a magazine model for expensive cologne. “Now I’ll be even more of the odd one out.”

  Sparkles burned under her skin. “But you must see that both Yasmin and Nick are really happy, that they’ll have great marriages.”

  He pushed one of the cups toward her. “I certainly think everyone who gets married believes it in the beginning. What about you?” he asked, clearly changing the subject. “Any brothers and sisters?”

  “One brother, Luke,” she said.

 
“Married?”

  She rolled her lip between her teeth. Saying the word out loud always gave her a sense of failure, but there was no point pretending. His mother had probably told him what a basket case she’d been when she split from Mark. “Divorced, like me. My parents have been married forty years, so it’s kind of a disappointment to them that neither of our marriages worked.”

  He held her gaze, and for a terrible moment she thought he was going to ask about her marriage. For some crazy reason, she didn’t want her divorce to be a confirmation of his cynicism. Instead, she had a powerful urge to tell him he was wrong, that there was true love and commitment in the world, that not all husbands or all wives cheated, and that love could be strong and everlasting. And she would’ve told him, if she weren’t standing in his kitchen in front of his rumpled perfection, his sleepy grin making her stomach flip-flop.

  And if she was 100 percent sure of it all herself.

  Now was not the time to be talking about the differences between them. “The reason I wanted to get hold of you so urgently,” she said, “is that I’m going to need your help. And a lot of it.”

  He took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed, and she was mesmerized by the way his throat moved. “Oh, yeah?”

  The tension in the room shifted. “I had a call from Congressman Williams, and he wants his daughter’s wedding held at the Palace the weekend after next.” How she said the words without her head exploding was a mystery.

  Ari dug around on a shelf and brought out a bag of sugar. “But wasn’t that what the wager was about? O’Malley’s won the right to hold the event, and that was the end of it? Sugar?” he offered. “Sorry it’s not in a bowl or anything.”

  “No, thanks. That’s what was supposed to happen, but apparently, things have changed.”

  Ari dug a spoon into the bag and proceeded to stir two spoonsful into his coffee. “I bet it has something to do with the sexual harassment scandal going on in the congressman’s office. A perfect way to deflect from that would be to have photos of him—the doting father—giving away his daughter at her wedding.”