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IT WAS A perfect day for a wedding. A bold June sun poured out of a dreamy blue sky over trees crowned with the greenness of summer. A warm breeze carried the scents of the blooming gardens. Blue jays and starlings flitted through the air in song.
The gazebo where Francesca and James were to exchange their vows burst with white roses. Chairs were wrapped in ivory taffeta. The cobbled path leading to the gazebo was covered in rose petals and flanked with lanterns that would bloom with light the moment Francesca made her way to James. Inside the tent, which would accommodate five hundred guests—handpicked by James and Peter—dozens of wait staff set up to James’ specifications.
It was starting to look as James envisioned his wedding day.
Peter stepped onto the terrace, handed James the bottle of beer. “Everything looks great, James. I hope you’re pleased.”
James tapped his bottleneck to Peter’s. “I am, and I know Frankie will love it the moment she sees it. She’s still upstairs getting ready. Has been for the past hour.”
“It’s not like her to be so girly. You’ve been good for her, son.” Peter drained part of his beer.
James followed Peter to the wicker chairs, sat when he did. “Thank you, sir.”
“Peter. We’re family now and should be on a first-name basis.”
“All right, Peter. Thank you for letting us have the wedding on the estate. It’s a stunning property. It’s why I chose to get married in June. I thought an outdoor wedding would be perfect amid your stunning gardens.”
Peter waved a hand. “There’s no need for thanks. Consider the Thompson estate your home now. You and Frankie can move in tomorrow if you like.” Peter drained his beer as he watched ice sculptures being set up at the multiple bars. James certainly spared no expense.
“Thank you. I’ll give that some thought, but Frankie insists on working at the firm after we marry, and my downtown home is minutes from your office and mine. Maybe I can talk Frankie into spending weekends here.” Squinting against the sun, James scanned the property and made mental notes of the changes to be made to accommodate his taste.
“Well, you won’t have to do much to talk Frankie into spending time here. She loves this place.” Peter heard the beating of drums, the twang of guitars, and the sound of brass when the band launched into rehearsal. “After your honeymoon, I want you and me to sit down for a talk.”
“About what?” James made a mental note to tell the wedding planners to switch the ice sculptures set up on the north and south bars. He’d been precise in his instructions, but good help was hard to find.
“Business. It’s no secret I’ve thought you’d be a great addition to the Thompson and Associates team. Why you chose to go into public practice is still a mystery to me. With your talent, you could have made so much more money in private practice.” Peter watched the beads of sweat trickle down the side of his beer bottle down to the armrest forming a circle around its base.
“I felt it was time for a Templeton to give back to the world in more ways than philanthropy. Handing money over to charity is a simplistic way of relieving your guilt for enjoying the comfortable lifestyle the generations of Templeton’s have made possible. I felt a moral obligation to give back, and offering my legal services pro bono is my way.”
“Very noble, but you’re an excellent attorney who should aspire to more than public defense.”
James stretched out his legs, crossed his feet at the ankles, and let the sun pour over his face. “What do you have in mind, Peter?”
“Here, you both are.” Both men turned to meet Tiffani’s overly painted face appreciating the sensual swing of her gait. Her flowing hair was golden under the afternoon sun, and the rubies at her ears and neck twinkled under its light.
“You look stunning, baby,” Peter said, salivating over the ripe breasts spilling over the edge of the cream, silk dress she’d purposely chosen to outshine the bride.
“Thank you, darling.” Tiffani gave him her right cheek, and he planted a kiss.
“I want you to get upstairs right now to make yourself pretty for me. I laid out your tuxedo on the bed. No. No more talking,” Tiffani said to Peter when he started to speak. “Scoot now. Guests are due to arrive in under an hour,”
“All right, I’m going.” Peter gave her butt a suggestive squeeze. “Talk James into doing the same,” he said over his shoulder.
“He’s right. You need to get yourself upstairs too. Francesca looks beautiful, and the groom needs to as well. You don’t want her upstaging you, do you?” Tiffani linked her arm through James’ and walked him into the house.
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ALL EYES TURNED TO FRANCESCA. FLASHES from cameras came from every angle. In the white, lace gown and cathedral veil James handpicked for her, Francesca looked like a fairy Princess.
With a giant smile on his face, looking tall and handsome in a white-tail tuxedo, James watched Francesca make her way to him. His heart beat thick as each step brought Francesca closer to becoming Mrs. James Templeton III.
Vows exchanged, James passionately kissed his wife. “I love you so much, Mrs. Templeton, and I can’t wait to start our new life.”
“Me too, James,” Francesca said, letting him lead her to the translucent dance floor James had installed atop the blue waters of the pool for their first dance as husband and wife.
Camera flashes winked as Francesca and James circled the dance floor to the sound of The Anniversary Song. As they spun, cheek to cheek, arms chained around one another, James kissed his wife and vowed his love to her. Francesca reiterated the sentiment, although deep down she wished she was saying the words to Tommy. Closing her eyes, Francesca conjured his image. She saw the flowing dark hair, the smiling blue eyes full of love for her.
“May I cut in?” Peter took Francesca’s hand when James stepped back and turned Tiffani over to his son-in-law.
“You look beautiful, honey. Your mother would think so too, and she’d be as proud as I am of you today.” Peter fell into long, smooth steps with his daughter as the band segued into Moonlight Serenade.
Francesca felt her lungs choke up. “Thank you for saying so, Daddy.”
“I know she’d like James.” Peter saw right through the contrived smile, shadowed in sadness. “I know I haven’t been the perfect father, and I’m sorry about that, but your mother’s death was difficult on me.”
“Don’t, Daddy.”
“I need to say this, Frankie. I know you’ll forever blame me for keeping you and Tommy Scott apart, but I was doing what I thought was best for you. You know it’s not easy to be both mother and father.” Peter glided his daughter past James and Tiffani, who was stepping off the dance floor heading for the bar. “I know you don’t love James, but he loves you and will take care of you. Will you at least give him a chance to do so?”
“Don’t worry, Daddy. He’s my husband now, and I’ll play the role of the loyal, devoted wife. You can go ahead and make him the offer to join your board of directors.” Francesca’s glossed lips curved into a cynical smile when the shock flew into Peter’s eyes. “You think Thompson and Associate’s is immune to the rumor mill?” Francesca waved a hand in Peter’s face to silence him. “Please don’t say anything else that will insult my intelligence.”
“Honey.”
“The honeys and sweethearts won’t work anymore, Dad. If you’ll excuse me, I need a stiff drink.” Francesca gathered her dress in her arm. “Mom would have loved Tommy,” she said before walking off the dance floor.
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AT THE SOUND OF THE MAN and woman’s laughter coming from the hallway bathroom, Missy ducked behind the pillar. Her brows lifted when she watched Tiffani peek her head out to make the coast was clear.
Stepping out, Tiffani leaned in for one last kiss. “That was fun, darling. It always is with you. You’re very talented.” She skimmed a finger down his cheek. “I better get back to my husband.”
Missy watched Tiffani adjust the mussed hair, and smooth the front of her dress before she made her way down the stairs. She’d always known the woman was a cheap skank.
Remaining in the shadows, Missy waited for the man to step out. When he finally came out of the bathroom, wide-eyed, Missy watched him finger-comb his disheveled hair and adjust his belt buckle before heading downstairs to rejoin the party.
