I’VE NEVER BEEN a fan of summer, preferring to follow more temperate climes as I travel the globe.
But this steaming hot summer’s day in Sydney, in the bar jutting out over the rocky outcrop overlooking the sparkling harbour, watching our darling Aubrey marry her man Sean, well, it might well have been one of the best of my life.
And that’s saying something. I am a zillionaire after all.
Yes, I have stepped back from running Ascot Industries, leaving my very able second in charge, the right woman to take the business fully into the next century. But I am still loaded. I could buy this famous little restaurant right now if I pleased.
Except, for the first time in my life, I have no urge to conquer.
“Vivian.” I turn at the sound of the deep voice calling my name.
“Enzo, my dear, I was hoping you were near. Would you mind nabbing me a drink?”
Enzo takes me by the hand, turns it over and kisses my wrist, right upon my pulse. Such a charmer.
A wallflower now, content to watch the world rather than run it, I spy Jessica and Jamie, snuggled close together on the dance floor, her hand clutched in his, his lips resting on her knuckles.
I wonder if they know she is pregnant. It’s so clear to me, my gift twanging like a bell.
There’s Daisy, up on stage with her man Jay. The two of them sharing a microphone, his hand wrapped around hers. Their eyes on only each other.
Just quietly, the music isn’t to my taste. A little too rock and roll, when I’ve always had a little thing for Barry Manilow. But the crowd don’t share my sentiment. The joy in the room is palpable. No wonder they’ve done so well for themselves.
“Ladies and gents,” calls Jay, and the crowd cheers so loud my new hearing aid buzzes. “The bride and groom!”
Aubrey—dear girl—bursts through the doors in her whisper of a dress; arms spread out, fingers beckoning the cheers to continue. Such a riot, that girl. If she’d come sliding in on her knees I’d not have been surprised.
Then through the doorway, cool as you please, comes her man. All brooding bone structure and broad shoulders, that one.
Aubrey turns to him with a smile. No, a grin. Then laughter lights her face up till she’s pure sunshine. While he looks at her as if she is the moon and stars, all wrapped up in one pocket-sized package.
A woman who must be Sean’s mother—same dark hair and intense blue eyes—comes in behind them, Aubrey and Sean’s darling little girl in her arms. A button of a child with her mother’s auburn curls and father’s bright blue eyes. She’ll be trouble when she grows up, no doubt. But the good kind. The kind that fosters joie de vivre.
The little one holds out a hand and Aubrey takes her to her hip, leaving the hand for her daddy to hold. And together they move to the dance floor. A threesome, swaying and laughing and hugging, while Daisy and Jay croon a song that puts a tear even in my tough old eye.
This, all this, is more than I ever could have hoped when I gave each of my girls the nudge to go after what they needed most—the opportunity to put their fears behind them and come into their own.
The crowd parts in that moment, and there he is. My Enzo. Drink in hand.
“Bless you, dear man,” I say as I take a sip of the most excellent champagne I’ve had shipped over for the occasion. Apparently, the groom’s family are old money, but one must never leave such things to chance!
Enzo draws me close. The look in his eye makes me feel twenty-one again. The world at my feet.
“Dance with me,” he croons.
“I shall,” I promise. “Till I can dance no more.”
And so the night goes on. A night of laughter and song and love and hope and friendship and family. Of more happily-ever-afters than even I could have imagined.
It seems fairy tales do come true.
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