You’re Still The One by Erika Kelly

Chapter Twenty

Standingto the side of the stage, Stella panned Wild Billy’s with her camera phone. “That’s the bar. You can see we’ve transformed it into a formal dining room.” She zoomed in on the linen-draped tables, votive candles, charming bouquets of stargazer lilies, and stunning crystal chandeliers. She was so proud of how it had turned out. It looked sophisticated and elegant. “And don’t worry. The wait staff’s been trained to serve royalty.”

“Can they see the mechanical bull from that perspective?” Diane asked.

Stella turned the phone around. Her heart twisted for her boss, looking tired and pale. Her mother’s stroke had taken a real toll. “Yes, but Rosie thinks they’ll get a kick out of watching everyone dance and ride and have a good time.” As long as they don’t have to participate.

“I hope she’s right. Fully half the guests are from St. Christophe. I can’t imagine what they’ll think when they see people riding a bull at a royal wedding.”

Stella felt sick. “It’s a risk, I know, but the bottom line is that this is the reception Rosie wants.”

Diane looked skeptical.

Still, Stella’s gut told her she’d done the right thing. “At least the other half will love it.”

“They’re not the half I’m worried about. But…I trust you.”

Stella nearly dropped the phone. “You do?” She hadn’t expected those words.

“Of course. If I didn’t trust you, do you think I’d still be in New Jersey? Everything I’ve worked so hard to build with this business hinges on this event.”

“Excuse me while I throw up real quick.”

Diane smiled. “It’ll be fine. You’ve shown me every detail along the way, and I’m confident you’ve created the wedding of Rosie’s dreams. Her family’s reaction is not within our realm of control. Rosie’s the bride, and she’s paying for it, so it’s her show.”

“Hey, so, how’re things going with your mom?” When will you be back?

“We’re not seeing the kind of progress we should after five weeks. We’ll give it until the first of the year, and if she’s still in this condition, we’ll have to make arrangements.”

“You’ll put her in a home?”

“My mother devoted her entire life to her family. There’s not a chance she’ll spend her last days on earth in the care of strangers. No, she’ll be moving in with me.”

“Oh. So, she’s coming to Calamity?”

“No, I can’t do that.” Exhaustion seemed to overcome the older woman. “All of her friends and everything she owns is in this town.” She gave a resigned smile. “I’ll have to move back here. But it’s for the best. I want my mother to be comfortable and surrounded by everyone she loves.”

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“All right.” Diane flapped a hand. “Enough of this talk. You go on. Orchestrate the magic.”

“I will. You take care and keep your phone nearby. I’ll show you how it’s going in real-time.” She disconnected and climbed down the stairs to the dance floor.

The kitchen door punched open, and two of the wait staff helped Coco wheel out her Decadent Chocolate Cake. The queen had ordered a traditional white cake with flowers but, given that it was pretty much a duplicate of the one at the royal wedding in St. Christophe, Stella had decided to surprise the bride with a second cake, since Rosie lived for Coco’s chocolates.

“Where do you want it?” her sister asked.

“Let’s do it here, near the stage.”

“Hey, girls.” Her mom came in, looking sophisticated and gorgeous. “Here’s your fix-it bag.” She handed over the heavy tote Stella brought with her to weddings. It held everything a wedding planner could ever need, from safety pins and hair spray to pain relievers, mints, and clear nail polish.

“Thank you so much.” She’d left it in the bridal room at the chapel.

“And here.” Her mom handed her a plastic bag. “You’ve got your choice of cake cutters.”

“You’re the best.” Gratitude rushed over her. “You guys, I’m so glad I’m home.” To think she’d missed out on all this support and love for so many years…God. She had to blink back tears. She could not get emotional right now.

Her mom pulled her into a fierce hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to have our family whole again.”

Another set of arms wrapped around them. “Can I get in on this?”

“Get over here,” Stella said. “You smell like chocolate.”

“Curse of my profession,” Coco said.

“Thank you guys for being here for me and just…accepting me.”

“We love you,” her sister said.

Her mom rubbed her back. A phone vibrated, and they pulled back. Her mom read the screen. “The shuttles are arriving. It’s go-time.”

The doors opened, and in walked the guests. First came the Bowie brothers and their gorgeous wives, followed by Griffin and Austin.

Hands thrust into the pocket of his dress slacks, cuffs rolled to his elbows, Griffin stood out in the room full of rugged mountain men. His inked forearms were on full display, all-powerful muscles and bold designs. He must’ve felt her watching because he glanced over, and a thrill shot through her at the intensity of his look.

She flashed him a private smile, and his eyes flared.

“Look at you two.” Her mom came up beside her. “Hard to believe it isn’t real.”

“I think it is real, Mom.”

“What’re you saying? Are you actually engaged?”

“No, but he had a dream the other night. About the accident.”

“With Booker?”

She nodded. “I think he’s got PTSD from it. Is that possible?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know all the details, but from what I understand, the boys were right there when Booker crashed. They were the ones who rushed him to the hospital. I don’t know who drove, but I know the others were in the back of the truck with Booker, scared out of their minds. It was a traumatic experience. They thought…well, you can imagine what they thought.”

“Yeah, so, I think my impulsiveness, my…recklessness reminds him of how he used to be…and the consequences of it.”

“I never thought of it like that. You’ve made some mistakes—who hasn’t?—but I don’t connect them with what happened to Booker.”

“On an emotional level, though. But I think he gets it now, Mom. Which means…”

Her mom nodded. “We can only change what we’re aware of.” She rubbed Stella’s arm. “It won’t be overnight. You realize that, right? What he experienced left a deep imprint. It’s going to take time.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that for myself. You should’ve seen how hard I tried to come up with some stupid scheme to get Austin to sing a different song for the Musicale. I thought I was saving him from a world of hurt. But then I remembered that I didn’t save Lulu from hurt. I just gave her a more brutal hit by betraying her.”

Her mom broke into a sad smile, but before she could speak, someone said, “You did.”

Both of them turned to find Lulu right behind them. Her mom patted her arm. “I’ll let you two talk.” She took off to help organize the wave of guests that had just come in from the second shuttle.

“That’s all I’ve ever needed to hear you say,” Lulu said.

“I don’t think I could’ve said it until now.”

“I’ve imagined seeing you a million times over the years, and I thought I was ready. I thought I was all mature and confident, but…I guess I’m still that little girl who thinks her sister is dazzling. I mean, look at you, Stella. You’re gorgeous.” She made a sweeping motion around the venue. “You did this wedding by yourself. And from what I understand, you’ve only been in Events for three months. You’re just an amazing person, and I guess I don’t know how to be the woman I’ve become when I’m around you.”

Stella had no words. “That’s…yes. You nailed it. That’s exactly what it’s been like for me since I got home. I don’t know how to be the woman I’ve become when everyone in Calamity’s seeing me as the girl I was when I left.”

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing for us to do, and that’s get to know each other as the women we’ve become.”

“But do you want to? Get to know me again?” Her heart beat so loudly in her ears it drowned out the buzz of conversation in the room.

“Of course, I do. You were my best friend. And no one has ever replaced you in my heart. No one ever could.”

“I feel the same way.”

They reached for each other at the same time, and all the affection and love she’d missed over these long years poured in, filling her, healing her. “I want you to know I’ve learned my lesson.” They pulled apart. “I don’t know if you know the story, but Austin’s grandparents are super controlling. And I get so angry when they do what they think is best for him…until I realized I was doing the same thing. The Musicale I was talking about? It helped me see that I want to love him, not overpower him. I want to give him a voice, not take it away.”

She could’ve sworn she saw appreciation in her sister’s eyes, but her phone vibrated with a text message, and she had to look away.

Mom: Royal family just pulled up.

“Okay, it’s show-time.” She didn’t want to leave her sister, not when they’d finally started talking. But she had to get to work, so she blurted out, “Will you cater Gigi’s wedding?”

“Cater it?” Lulu asked. “Do you mean Harley and Lu’s?”

“No, I mean you personally. I want to spend time with you, and if we can work together…both of us doing the things we love best? I mean, how fun would that be?”

“I’d love that.” For the first time since seeing her sister, Lulu smiled, and it was warm, sweet, and full of affection. “We have so much to catch up on. Can we get started on your teenage marriage?”

As the band found their places on the stage and picked up their instruments, Stella laughed. “We’ll need wine for that one. Lots of wine.” And then, standing there facing the enormous room, her heart was so full she wanted to shout, I just made peace with my sister! We’re good, you guys! Everything’s good!

Her phone chimed again.

Mom: The limo just pulled up.

Stella turned to the band. “You guys ready?”

“You bet,” the lead singer said.

The drummer held up his sticks, the keyboard player set his fingers on the keys, and the bass player fiddled with the amp.

And then Princess Rosalina, wearing a jean mini skirt and red cowboy boots, entered the bar holding hands with Brodie, who wore jeans and a black T-shirt. Both grinned widely as they raised their clasped hands over their heads.

Stella reached for the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the bride and groom!”

The band launched into a song, and Stella’s dad closed the door behind the newlyweds.

Before she got too busy, Stella called Diane on FaceTime and showed her the lively scene.

When she glanced at the screen, she found her boss looking pleased and relieved. “And the royal family?”

Stella panned the crowd to the dining area. The king and queen stood watching their daughter surrounded by her friends, laughing…positively glowing. They smiled, eyes glassy, and that’s when Stella knew she’d done all right. She turned the phone back to face Diane. “I think they’re happy.”

“I’d say so. Congratulations, Stella. The job is yours if you want it.”

* * *

Standing with his friends, Griffin had his eye on Stella as she handled yet another situation. He didn’t know what this particular problem was, but the reception had given him a first-hand view of how stressful her job was. No surprise, but she handled everything like a pro. The coolest thing was that she spoke to everyone like they were all in this together—not like they worked for her.

At that moment, she tipped her head back and blew out a breath, and it was the first break in her calm demeanor. He excused himself and headed over. Pressing a hand to her lower back, he kissed her cheek. “Best reception ever. You killed it.”

“Thank you.” She stepped into his arms and slumped against him. “I think we pulled it off.”

“Not surprising.” Her stroked her hair. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I love that you ask. You have no idea what an important question that is to someone who’s in the thick of things. But no, at the moment, I’m good.”

They swayed together, even though the song was Sara Evans’ Suds in a Bucket. “Diane happy?”

“She said the job’s mine.”

“Yeah?”

She peered up at him with a humble, almost surprised grin. “Yeah.”

“Proud of you.” He pulled her in for a hug—only meaning to congratulate her, but these crazy feelings rose up and crested over him. He wanted her so damn much, all the time. He breathed in the scent that drove him wild.

Her cell buzzed, and she pulled away as she read the screen. “Oh, my God.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Here’s one I didn’t anticipate.” Laughing, she shook her head. “Come on. We’ve got to get to the mechanical bull. The king’s about to ride.”

“The king?” He hurried alongside her, making their way through the crowd. He noted the formal dining area, once crowded, now only had a handful of people. Everyone else was either on the dance floor two-stepping or waiting their turn to ride the bull.

“Can you excuse me, please?” Stella, always graceful and elegant, pushed through to climb the steps to the operator’s box. She reached the woman behind the control panel. “Hi, I’m Stella Cavanaugh.”

“Of course. Nice to put a face to a voice.”

“That man who’s getting on the ride? That’s the king of a small principality in Europe.”

The woman, in her pearl button shirt and pink bandana, stared at her, mouth hanging open. “Seriously?”

“For real. He’s also sixty-one years old, so if you could go easy on him, I’d be forever grateful.”

“You got it. And thanks for the tip, but for the record, I adjust according to age and athleticism.”

“Oh, good. Okay, thank you.” Instead of joining the others, they stood off to the side on the platform and watched the king remove his suitcoat and vest. His wife, the queen, took it from him, clearly unhappy with his life’s choices. But Rosie’s father didn’t notice. He was giddy with anticipation.

“You think I should stop him?” Stella asked. “Maybe interrupt everything for toasts?”

“Now, why would you do that? Look at that smile.”

She turned toward him. “This, coming from Mr. Cautious?”

Griffin smiled, pointing to the side of the pen. “His daughter’s right there, and she’s laughing, so I think it’s all good.”

And then the elegant, scholarly gentleman tried to hoist a leg onto the horse but failed. Chuckling, he tried again.

“Be right back.” Gripping the banister, Griffin leaped over, landing on the padding in the enclosed area. He knelt beside the king and laced his fingers together.

With a regal nod of gratitude, the older man held onto the pommel, stepped into the cradle of Griffin’s hands, and hefted himself onto the saddle.

“Let your center of gravity work for you,” Griffin said. “You’re going to want to lean forward but stay centered.” Since he held onto the handle with his right hand, Griffin said, “Keep your left hand in the air, and your knees bowed inward—you’re using your thighs to stay on. Most of all, have fun.”

“Thank you,” the king said. “That was very kind of you.”

Stepping out of the ring, Griffin motioned to the ride operator. Slowly, the machine started rocking, and the king burst out laughing.

“Go, Papa,” Rosie shouted.

“Woo hoo,” Vivi, the princess’s sister—who looked nothing like the refined, elegant Rosalina, called.

Stella came up beside him and reached for his hand. “That was nice of you.”

He leaned down. “Soon as we get home, I’m not going to be nice at all.”

She shivered and gave him that wicked smile that set his blood on fire. “I can’t wait.”

They didn’t get home till after two in the morning. Stella had gone straight for the shower, while he’d gotten Austin to bed.

The house quiet, Griffin boiled water for her tea—her nightly ritual—and made a plate with some crackers and cheese. Maybe he’d slice an apple, too. He knew she hadn’t stopped to eat tonight, so yeah, he’d add that.

He couldn’t believe how well the reception had gone. His heart filled with affection for Stella. She’d risked her career to give Rosie the reception she wanted. Diane hadn’t done that—she’d gone along with the queen’s wishes. Because it was the right choice for the business.

But Stella always went with her gut. She was strong, fierce, and loving.

And if he didn’t fuck her right now, he was going to lose his shit.

Carrying the mug and plate up the stairs, he realized he’d stopped listening to his instincts the night of the accident. But for eighteen years, they had worked for him. He’d never gotten hurt or injured, and he’d done some damn risky things.

When he compared the first half of his life—the wild, crazy adventures he’d had as a kid, the whole-hearted way he’d loved Stella, to today, when he lived in an apartment over the shop and kept his business running and little else…well, it became pretty clear he had a problem.

And there was no one better to fix it than Stella. His uninhibited, free-spirited, gorgeous woman.

And all he wanted to do was show her how much he appreciated her.

He pushed open the bedroom door, the air humid from the shower. The lights were on, the bathroom door open…and Stella was passed out, face-down on the pillow.

He set the food on the tall dresser and went to her side. Brushing the hair away, he kissed her cheek. “Let’s make it real.” The words tumbled out, and his heart pounded. Even though she was asleep, panic teased the edges of his mind, stirring shit up.

But he meant it. He did.

“Let’s get married.”

No, he couldn’t control his world with her in it.

But then the world isn’t made for us to control it.

He’d failed her once before.

He wouldn’t do it again.