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Spencer stood on the balcony, staring out at the clear, pristine waters of the Caribbean. So vast beyond his little slice of tropical paradise. So seemingly endless.
But the ocean did end. It did have its limits.
He sipped his Glengassaugh, relishing the smooth burn of the thirty year old, single malt scotch as he pondered the finity of the universe. Everything had an expiration date. People. Relationships. Marriages.
And yet, just like the boundaries of the water before him, Spencer couldn’t see the end of this thing he had with Kayla. Their relationship was like a beautiful, complex puzzle, and each day, another tiny piece snapped into place. Unlike the jigsaws that came in a box, however, Spencer had no reference for what the finished product would look like. It was constantly changing. The good news was that after more than a year together, the parts he could see just kept getting better.
“Nervous, Mr. Dumas?”
Spencer turned to his general manager and best man with a small smile. “I’ve negotiated billion dollar deals and have been responsible for thousands of employees world-wide, Dominic. I think I can handle marriage vows.”
“Yes, but this is more important, don’t you think, sir?”
It was more important, Spencer realized, because he had a personal stake in the outcome. This wasn’t something he would allow to be scrubbed down and sanitized into two-dimensional spreadsheets or represented in red and black bottom lines. If, for some reason, his marriage to Kayla didn’t work out, he’d feel the effects in a lot more than just his bank accounts.
His father would say – and often had said – that emotion had no place in important life decisions. Spencer disagreed. It was exactly because he was personally invested in Sate that the resort was doing so well, and he believed the same would be true for his marriage. He and Kayla understood each other. They were kindred spirits. Two of a kind, really.
His father couldn’t comprehend that. Tristan Dumas believed that marriage was nothing more than a means to an end: improving financial status, acquiring assets, gaining political or social power. Spencer was gaining none of those things by marrying Kayla, therefore, according to his father, marriage didn’t make sense.
That was one of the reasons his father would not be receiving an invitation. Another was that his father had gone behind his back and tried to remove Kayla from the picture by offering a multimillion dollar bribe and the promise of her own business.
The plan had backfired, however. Not only did his father’s interference eventually bring him and Kayla closer together, it had cemented Spencer’s decision to walk away from the family business once and for all. It was a decision he hadn’t regretted once, and probably wouldn’t anytime soon (if ever).
The sun was well on its descent to the horizon. Down below, staff were scurrying about, putting the finishing touches on the decorations, ensuring everything was perfect. Guests were beginning to filter toward the seats that had been set up in front of the pavilion where he and Kayla would soon be taking their wedding vows.
It was somewhat staggering to believe that in less than an hour, he would be a married man.
Spencer waited for the sense of impending doom or the last minute tingle of uncertainty, but like every other time he’d pondered his wedding, he remained calm and confident. The only tingling he experienced was a building anticipation for what Kayla had devised for them later with that wicked, wonderfully deviant mind of hers.
And the wicked little minx was up to something. He guessed it had something to do with their private overwater bungalow, because each time he suggested they escape there for a bit of pre-wedding stress relief this past week, Kayla had deferred.
Kayla loved that place and never willingly gave up an opportunity to visit the bungalow.
A covert trip out that way had confirmed his suspicions. A small crew had been out there, doing something behind draped tarps. Exactly what, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ruin the surprise. Knowing Kayla, it would be a good one.
“It’s almost time, sir.” Dominic held out his jacket, and Spencer slipped his arms in. “How do I look?”
“Like the luckiest man on the planet, sir.”
“Good answer.” Accurate, too, because that was exactly how he felt.
The phone rang just as they were about to leave. Dominic spoke quietly into the device, but Spencer had no difficulty hearing his end of the conversation. “When? ... I see ... Yes, I’ll tell him.”
Judging by Dominic’s completely blank expression, it was bad news. Worst case scenarios began popping up amidst his happy thoughts and for the first time that day, unease slithered up Spencer’s spine. “What is it?”
“A private jet landed at the airstrip earlier, sir.”
Spencer inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. His first thoughts, naturally, had been centered on Kayla. However, he knew for a fact that no incoming flights were scheduled. “Security has been notified?”
Dominic shifted his feet slightly. “Yes, sir. The new arrivals have been picked up and are being detained so as not to interrupt the proceedings.”
“Good.” They hadn’t exactly advertised their wedding, choosing to invite only a very select group of guests to share their day with them in lieu of the traditional family and friends. As Kayla had so aptly put it, they wanted to actually enjoy their wedding, not spend the day defending themselves.
“Late arriving guests or party crashers?”
Dominic looked even more uncomfortable. “They... well, they’re not invited guests.”
“Oh? Exactly who are they, Dominic?”
“Your father and your mother-in-law to be, sir.”
The only things surprising about that statement were that one, it sounded like they had arrived together, although that was probably just coincidence – and two, that it had taken them so long. “Where are they now?”
“Contained in the dungeon, sir.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow. “The dungeon?”
“Ingrid thought it would be best since it’s soundproofed, sir. They’re mad as hell.”
Spencer’s lips curled a little. The thought of his overbearing father and Kayla’s gold-digging mother locked in one of the darker play rooms together was an amusing one. It seemed a satisfying karmic payback for their attempt to crash the wedding.
Certainly, they would have much different reasons for doing so. Dumas Senior would feel compelled to put a halt to the ceremony, thinking Kayla O’Connell unworthy to carry the family name. Despite the fact that Spencer had walked away from his father and Dumas Industries over a year earlier, Tristan Dumas still seemed to think he held some sway over his son.
Kayla’s mother, Patricia Coxton Jennings O’Connell Davidson, was on the other end of the unwelcome interference spectrum. Spencer had no doubt the woman wasn’t here to stop the wedding, but to insert herself back into her about-to-be-filthy-rich daughter’s good graces with her hand out and her Michael Kors purse wide open.
“Do you wish to speak to them?”
“Later, perhaps.” Spencer’s smile was cold when he said, “Since they went to so much trouble to be here for our special day, let’s ensure they don’t miss a moment. Override the in-room screen controls and stream the ceremony in for them.” He smoothed his cummerbund and tugged lightly on his sleeves.
“Oh – and Kayla is to hear nothing of this, understand?”
“Perfectly, sir.”
“Excellent. Then let’s go. I don’t want to tempt fate any longer than necessary.”