The wedding ceremony conducted a few days later was a small, quiet affair at the Burning Cove courthouse. The surprise reception held at the Paradise Club that evening, however, was neither small nor quiet.
Matthias, with Amalie on his arm, took one step through the front door of the club, saw the big grin on the face of the normally somber maître d’, and knew that the plans he and Amalie had made for the night had gone up in smoke.
“Sorry about this,” he said.
“What in the world?” Amalie whispered.
“Looks like we are the targets of a conspiracy.”
“Define this conspiracy.”
“Brace yourself. You’re about to meet my family sooner than we planned.”
Before he could explain, the maître d’ stepped in to take charge.
“Congratulations to both of you,” he said. “If you will follow me, please.”
There was a drumroll from the orchestra. A spotlight found Matthias and Amalie at the top of the red carpet aisle.
Amalie finally understood. “So much for the celebratory drink with Luther and Raina in the private booth.”
“Don’t blame Luther. My mother must have telephoned him and given him his marching orders. I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister got involved as well.”
“Wow. Your mother and your sister had no hesitation about giving orders to a nightclub owner who has mob connections?”
“Nope. You’ll see why when you meet them.”
Amalie smiled. “They sound like interesting women.”
The drumroll ceased abruptly. Luther, dressed in a tux, walked up to the microphone. He had a glass of champagne in his hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “we are here to celebrate the wedding of Matthias Jones and Amalie Vaughn. Please join me in a toast to the new Mr. and Mrs. Jones. I am happy to tell you that they have decided to make Burning Cove their home.”
Champagne glasses sparkled in the light of the glitter ball. When the toast was finished, a thunderous round of applause swept across the room. The orchestra launched into a romantic waltz. Matthias and Amalie followed the maître d’ down the aisle. The spotlight illuminated them every step of the way.
When they reached the dance floor, Matthias took Amalie into his arms.
“I thought you told me that you came from a long line of psychics,” Amalie said.
“According to Jones family lore,” Matthias said. “Why?”
“It strikes me that a real psychic would have foreseen a major surprise like this.”
Matthias smiled. “Maybe I was distracted.”
“By a killer robot and a rogue spy?”
“No, by finding out that the woman I fell in love with the first time I saw her isn’t afraid of my talent.”
“I used to fly for a living. Without a net. It takes a lot to scare me.”
“I know. You’re going to fit right in to the Jones family.”