The Wedding Planner's Christmas Wish, page 3
She’d noticed.
“I’m here about the wedding,” Alexandra said.
His mouth dropped open, then quickly snapped shut, tightening marginally, and his eyes narrowed. Any bond that they had just established dealing with his precocious daughter evaporated.
“The wedding?” he said. Was there something faintly dangerous in his tone, and in the spark in his eyes?
“We’ve confirmed a booking for the entire week leading up to December 14.”
His eyes flew to her left hand, looking for an engagement ring. He thought she was getting married!
“I’m a wedding planner,” she said hastily. Why did she care what he thought? She wanted this to be completely professional, that’s why! “Ever After?”
He looked at her darkly, with absolutely no recognition.
“My client is Ivy Jenkins,” she said, a bit desperately, not above throwing some names around. “She’s marrying Sebastian Davis.”
“I’m afraid there’s been some mistake, Miss Harris.”
She didn’t miss the fact he had returned to formalities.
“We don’t do weddings here.”
Apparently he was completely unimpressed with her name dropping.
“Not ever. And we are not going to start now.”
CHAPTER THREE
DREW WATCHED ALEXANDRA’S mouth fall open. Her eyes—dark, soft, lovely as a doe’s—widened in shocked surprise.
To be honest, he was shocked himself. A wedding planner? The unsolicited parenting advice—he hoped she couldn’t tell how welcome it had been—coupled with the outfit and the prim hair had made him reach the apparently erroneous conclusion she might be a suitable nanny. But if not that, the no-frills ensemble suggested a lawyer or an accountant.
A wedding planner? Somehow he would have pictured someone a little more flamboyant. Soft pastels and maybe some ruffles.
But, a voice whispered to him, Emily had not been those things, and her vision for Parker and Parker had been all about romance.
Drew gave himself a mental shake. Emily’s vision, and how painful it was that it had never reached fruition for her, was the reason he would never hold a wedding here. He had to stand firm on that...despite Alexandra Harris’s substantial appeal.
“But...but the invitations are printed,” she stammered.
She really was a beautiful young woman, tall and willowy, delicate of feature. That mouth that had fallen open—but was now pressed firmly closed again—was exquisite, wide, plump, sensual. Her hair—thick, black, luxurious—was pinned up in that very prim bun that had led him down the nanny-for-hire road. For some reason, his fingers practically itched to let loose those pins.
Which made Drew feel as shocked as she looked.
It had been a long time since he had noticed... He shook it off. Losing Genevieve, and then finding her, had rattled him. He was well aware he could not withstand another loss. The beating of his heart was just beginning to return to normal. Those moments before she had been found had been a torment of what-ifs.
This woman had found his daughter. And he was deeply grateful, though not grateful enough to have a wedding hosted here. There had been some misunderstanding, obviously. He would figure out what it was and send her on her way.
The quicker the better, because there was a contradiction about Alexandra Harris that was intriguing. She had announced she was divorced with a certain bravery, as if she was revealing her worst failure to him.
Why? Traditional lives were no longer the norm. Many people were divorced, and for many reasons. It was hardly a failure. But if she felt it was, why had she chosen planning people’s happily-ever-afters as her profession? Did she want to believe, despite her own disappointment? Or because of it?
Drew recognized he had been lucky to find a love that had felt as if it would last, but even so, his and Emily’s relationship had hardly been traditional. They had decided they would get married after Genevieve had been born.
He regretted that now. That Em had died a month before the wedding she had longed for. Here.
It hardened his resolve, even as he tried to soften the blow.
“The invitations are printed but not mailed?” he asked. “That should make a change of venue relatively simple.”
It darted across her face that a lie might be helpful here, and he had to admit he admired her for not giving in to that.
“Not sent,” she said, “but reprinting isn’t really an option. They were designed by Kimura.”
He tilted his head at her to show the name meant nothing to him.
“She’s a famous Japanese artist. Each invitation has a snowflake on it and is ever so slightly personalized. They were extraordinarily expensive, and they are bound to become collector’s items.”
“Items that are a mistake quite often end up even more valuable to collectors,” he said.
Her face got a tight look on it. “You don’t seem to understand. The wedding has to be here.”
“You don’t seem to understand. There will never be a wedding here.”
“But why?” Alexandra asked, her eyes leaving his and looking at the building behind him with unveiled appreciation. “It’s so perfect. It’s as if it was made for weddings.”
It had been made for weddings, actually. And one wedding in particular. Emily’s excitement at the realization of their dream came back to him.
“It’s highly personal,” he said. “I won’t get into it.”
Her eyes came back to him. Something in them flashed. Strangely, it made him want to smile. She seemed as if she would be a worthy sparring partner. On the other hand, if they crossed swords, sparks were going to fly.
“I have a contract,” she said. Her voice was even and firm, completely professional, and yet there was the slightest bit of panic being betrayed by the tremble of those lips.
“A contract?” he said.
What on earth had Gabe been up to?
“Yes, for the whole week preceding the December 14 wedding date.”
“A week?”
“It would be impossible to put together everything for a wedding like this one in one day.”
A wedding like this one.
It spoke volumes. It spoke of that one unforgettable day, a dream-come-true kind of day. He wanted to be cynical: a no-expense-spared kind of day.
But instead, a memory that he had locked away for a long time thrust its way forward.
He could see Emily feverishly planning, a notebook in front of her, her tongue caught between her teeth, her hair tucked behind her ear. As she had glanced up at him, she’d been alive with light and laughter, spinning her dreams into reality.
What had triggered that memory? Ah. Hadn’t she said those very same words? Teasing him when he’d talked about her time commitment to the day?
It would be impossible to put together a wedding like this one in a day.
Drew couldn’t do this. He couldn’t allow someone else to realize Emily’s dream. It felt like it would be the worst kind of betrayal.
“I don’t have the contract with me,” Alexandra said firmly, “but, of course, I can produce it. It is legally binding, but that’s hardly the point. At this late date, I wouldn’t be able to find another suitable venue for such a big event.”
The week preceding December 14. The very time he and Genevieve were supposed to leave for the many amusements of California, his plan for a perfect Christmas this year, since he felt he had failed his daughter so miserably last year. What did he know about giving a four-year-old a happy Christmas?
He squinted at Alexandra. He’d bet, with her passel of unruly nieces and nephews, she would know. For some reason, it made him resent her.
“I have the deposit check right here in my purse.”
“Ah,” Drew said, “you haven’t paid the deposit yet.”
Her face went very white, and he was annoyed to find he felt for her. She had rescued Genevieve, after all, he told himself.
“There’s been a mistake, obviously,” he said reasonably. “I’ll have to speak to Gabe about what happened. I can reimburse you, personally, for having to get the invitations reprinted with a new address on them.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” she said, her voice low and husky in its fury. “It’s too late for that. Ivy has her heart set on this venue.”
With Ivy Jenkins’s kind of money, she could have anything she set her heart on. It would never be too late. Still, he wanted to placate the wedding planner.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got many, many connections,” he assured her. “We’ll be able to find you another venue.”
He was not sure he wanted we to be any part of his dealings with her. No, Gabe had somehow gotten them into this, and Gabe could get them out. But could he? His mother had been so sick for so long. Now it looked as if the end was near. Expecting him to look after this—or even explain it—seemed petty.
“There is no other venue quite like this one,” she said, “and certainly not on such short notice.”
He was right about sparks flying if they crossed swords. There was a light in her eyes that was very passionate.
He did not want to think about Miss Alexandra Harris and passion. At all. Again, his eyes went to her hair. Again, he could picture pins flying.
“It’s not going to work,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I have a contract,” she reminded him again.
“But you haven’t paid a deposit,” he reminded her again.
She sighed, obviously annoyed with going in this circle.
“It’s a point of honor, Mr. Parker—” Somehow, that arrow hit. Being honorable was part of who he was, a value he wanted to instill in his daughter. “Not legal wrangling,” she continued firmly. “Your representative signed a contract with me. I trusted that. I counted on that. Now my reputation is on the line.”
Her vulnerability weakened him further. He wasn’t going to be here, anyway. He’d be thousands of miles away. Did it really make any difference? That’s probably what Gabe had thought. Why make such a big deal of this at her expense?
“They’re coming here,” she said. “Ivy and Sebastian.”
“Today?”
She nodded.
“Call them and cancel. Until we work this out.” He recognized he was already slipping a bit—that this was no longer the out-and-out no of a few minutes ago.
“It’s too late,” she whispered. She looked over his shoulder and closed her eyes, tight.
“They’re early.”
He turned to see whom she was looking at. Of course, he knew who Ivy Jenkins was. The heiress to CEO William Jenkins’s billion-dollar business was walking toward them. Ivy did not look like the powerhouse she was. At only a little over five feet, her tininess, coupled with her black hair being cut so short, gave her the look of a woodland pixie. Drew had met her socially on a number of occasions.
But he hadn’t put two and two together when Alexandra had mentioned Sebastian Davis. He recognized the younger brother of one of his own close acquaintances, Mark Davis.
Sebastian let go of Ivy’s hand and came toward him, hand extended.
“Drew, so good to see you.”
Drew slid a look to Alexandra. Hope was now fighting with the desperation in her lovely features. She hoped, because he knew Sebastian, he would change his mind.
“I can’t thank you enough for allowing Ivy and me to have our wedding here,” Sebastian said softly. “I know it must be painful for you. Mark didn’t think you’d ever have a wedding here.”
Mark—one of the many friends he had lost touch with—had been so right. Out of the corner of his eye, Drew saw Alexandra watching him, her hope for herself being overshadowed by curiosity. And something even more dangerous. Compassion.
Ivy came forward, took both his hands, bussed his cheeks and looked deeply at him. Any question about her prowess in the business world would be laid to rest by the intensity in her eyes.
“Sebastian told me how you and Emily had planned Parker and Parker together and how you thought yours would be the first wedding here. Clearly, I’m beyond honored that you would allow it to be us.”
Despite their gratitude, Drew prepared to tell them it had been a mistake and there were going to be no weddings here after all. He hadn’t woken up this morning expecting to be confronted with his deepest pain.
But, out of the corner of his eye, he could still see Alexandra watching him. Her new understanding was making her eyes even softer.
He did not want any more sympathy in his life in general, and he particularly did not want the sympathy of such a beautiful woman. Really, the look in her eyes made it more imperative to shut this thing down before it gained speed, like a runaway train.
But instead, he found her sympathy for him, despite his insensitivity to her predicament, touched some place in him that had not been touched for a long time.
Her career probably hung in the balance right now.
A mistake had been made that clearly was not her fault. And even though it was not her fault, the embarrassment it would cause her and the damage to her reputation and her business could be catastrophic.
Something whispered in him, What would Em want me to do?
Emily would expect him to be a man of honor.
That whispered inner voice also reminded him that he was a father now, raising a child that he hoped would be good and decent and kind. How could he have those kinds of expectations of Genevieve if he could not overcome his pain to be those things himself?
He pulled in a deep breath.
“Welcome to Parker and Parker,” he heard himself say. “Let’s have a look around, shall we?”
He dared to look at Alexandra. The light brightening her face felt like just about the most dangerous thing he had ever seen.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEXANDRA WASN’T AWARE she had stopped breathing until she started again.
It would appear the wedding was on!
And yet her exhilaration at the bullet dodged was tempered by the pain she had seen in Drew Parker’s face when Sebastian had revealed the real reason he was reluctant to have weddings here.
She saw the great effort it had caused him to overcome that pain. For her. Now he was leading the way into Parker and Parker, guiding a tour of the premises himself.
The building was beyond beautiful. The foyer was huge, with two staircases at the back of it on either side, curving up to the second floor. If she had thought the outside staircase lent itself to photos, this one was even more magnificent.
Ivy, one of the richest women in the world, who had seen everything there was to see, had tears sparkling in her eyes. This was one of the things Alexandra admired most about Ivy. Despite her wealth and all the perks of her upbringing, she was genuine and likable. Ivy consistently used her position of power and wealth to give others—especially small businesses and charities—a helping hand. She probably even would have handled the change of venue with grace.
But given the look on her face, Alexandra was so happy that she didn’t have to.
“I couldn’t even imagine something this beautiful,” Ivy breathed. “I’d love a Christmas tree right here. A huge one. In our colors. Silver and white. What do you think, Sebastian?”
Sebastian obviously thought the sun rose and set by his bride. “I think that would be brilliant,” he said.
This was one of the hardest things about coordinating a wedding for Alexandra. When the couples were a perfect match—which Ivy and Sebastian obviously were—something shimmered in the air between them that filled her with a longing that nearly took her breath away.
That longing was uncomfortably intensified today by Drew Parker standing so close to her.
But when she looked at him, his mouth was twisted into a cynical line. He raised an eyebrow at her, letting her know in a glance that he didn’t like either the idea of the tree or the colors. But again, he saved her from embarrassment by not saying anything.
Alexandra forced herself into professional mode and slipped her notepad out of her purse.
“I’ll take notes as we go. We’re meeting in a few days with Hailey Thomas, so we can coordinate the floral design with other decor considerations then. Mr. Parker, you are welcome to join us, of course, as we’ll be drawing up the initial plans and you might want some input. Our meeting is on October 4.”
“At Hailey’s workshop,” Ivy said. “I can’t wait to see it. She’s so amazing!”
Mr. Parker looked like he would rather have toothpicks driven under his fingernails than join them for the floral consult.
Still, he was the model of a gracious host as they toured the facility together—the sumptuous banquet hall behind the staircase, the huge meeting room that could be converted to a chapel, the lovely suite above it that would be the ideal place for the wedding party to get ready and could provide a sanctuary to retreat to if the day’s festivities proved tiring.
“My office,” Drew said, waving his hand at a door that was marked with a gold plaque that read Private. “And my daughter’s and my living quarters.”
She hadn’t realized he lived here. She thought it would be an absolutely fabulous place to live. Alexandra was a little perplexed by how much she would have liked a peek behind that Private sign. Only because, she told herself sternly, seeing how and where he lived would give her more understanding of Drew Parker.
And what do you need that for? an inner voice reprimanded her.
She forced herself to focus on the tour. The entire building was the most incredible blend of elegance, opulence and glamour. Despite herself, she wondered if his living quarters would reflect the same style.
In every room, Ivy was full of suggestions to go with the Christmas-themed wedding: she even wondered if they could make it snow in the ballroom!
