Enchant Me by J. Kenner

6

As the sun dips lower in the sky, fairy lights turn on, illuminating the trees in the distance and the wedding arch itself. Rectangular planters filled with roses have been placed on the outside of the chairs to form aisles, and the whole area looks even more beautiful than I’d hoped. In the distance, the pool lights have been set to a soft pink, and the light now illuminates the back of the house, creating a warm and welcoming glow where the reception will be held.

Judge Kaplan is presiding, a local LA judge who both Damien and Evelyn know from way back. He stands under the wedding arch as the guests take their seats to the soft strains of classical music coming through the hidden speakers. As the parents of the children in the ceremony, Jackson, Sylvia, and I are the last to sit, occupying the first row on the bride’s side, with Bradley standing on the aisle chair next to me so that he has a good view of his sisters.

“I’m so happy for them,” Syl says. She’s wearing her hair short, in the same flattering pixie style as on that long-ago day when I first met her. Then, she was Damien’s assistant. Now, she’s my sister-in-law. Not to mention one of my closest friends.

“Me, too. They’re perfect together.”

“And you look very handsome,” she adds to Bradley, who grins and says, “Thank you, Aunt Syvie.”

She blows him a kiss as Jackson leans over. “Your grandpa’s a good man,” he says, his blue eyes even more vivid than usual in the twinkling lights. As his half-brother, Jackson shares Damien’s dark, photogenic good looks. He shares his strength too. After all, they both survived growing up with Jeremiah Stark.

“And Evelyn is the best there is,” he continues, this time directing the words at me. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re a perfect match.”

I flash him a smile, then shift to sit forward in my chair as Frank moves from the shadows behind the arch to stand in the glow of the soft, twinkling lights.

I meet my father’s eyes, noting how proud and handsome he looks in his new suit, a gift in lieu of a bachelor party from Damien. He winks at me, and I know that his nerves have faded.

After a moment, the music changes, not the wedding march, but something of the same tempo, and beside me, Sylvia turns. I do as well to see Jeffery and Ronnie, my kids’ older cousins, start down the aisle. Jeffery looks dapper in his suit, and Ronnie looks beautiful and almost grown up in her pale pink dress.

“Ronnie!” Bradley calls, and everyone in the audience chuckles. To her credit, Ronnie grins at her cousin but doesn’t break stride.

I bend over. “Hush now. You can talk to them after the ceremony, okay?”

He nods. “Sorry, Mama.”

I kiss his head and assure him it’s fine as Ronnie continues down the aisle in time with the music. Jeffery walks naturally, ignoring the whispers and eye rolls of his big sister. They both carry baskets and are scattering white petals along the aisle. The wedding is small enough that none of the kids really needed a role, but Evelyn and Frank insisted.

As soon as they finish, Ronnie and Jeffery take the seats that have been set aside for them on one side of the arch, and by that time, my girls are on their way down the aisle, too, both dressed in pale-pink dresses that match their cousin. Lara’s dark hair is still miraculously in the bun, a serious feat considering her hair is so thick and shiny that it’s a nightmare getting it to do much more than hang around her pretty face or wrangle it back into a ponytail.

I knew better than to try to tame Anne’s blond waves, as she’ll just shake them free. So instead, she’s wearing a circular headpiece threaded with ribbons and flowers, giving her a fairy-like quality. Her eyes find me, and I put a finger to my lips the moment I realize she’s about to call for me.

I’m a flower girl, she mouths, and I blow her a kiss as Syl giggles beside me. Bradley’s squirming, clearly wanting to call out to his sisters. But to my shock and amazement he not only stays quiet, he turns to me with a finger over his lips and whispers, “Shhh.”

I flash him a thumbs-up, then return my attention to the aisle where both my girls are scattering red rose petals to complement their cousins’ white ones. Lara is pulling them from her basket and releasing them slowly and deliberately while Anne grabs handfuls and drops them in clumps.

“Oh my God,” Syl whispers. “They are so precious. And they’re going to be perfect next week in your ceremony.”

“I know,” I say, but I don’t turn around, because now Damien has stepped into the light at the end of the path, Evelyn standing tall and proud beside him.

The music shifts to the bridal march, and my heart flutters.

Soon, I’ll be doing this. The walk down the aisle, anyway, though Damien and I have decided to walk together, and to music other than the bridal march. We’re already married, after all, and that simple fact gives me so much joy that I only want to add to it, not re-do it.

Damien meets my eyes, and I feel that tug in my chest. The sight of him, so proud and perfect. And Evelyn glowing with happiness. I turn away just long enough to look at our girls in their seats by the arch, and see that they are looking at him with pride as well—their daddy walking their Ebby down the aisle.

“Dada!” Bradley’s cry rings out, and laughter rises again from the small group of invited guests as Damien grins at his son and Evelyn blows Bradley a kiss.

Behind Damien, I see Wyatt Royce standing at the end of the aisle, taking the candid photos that Evelyn insisted she wanted as a record of the day.

It’s because my gaze lingered on Wyatt after Damien passed that I’m still turned in my seat, and that’s how I notice the dark-haired man with a trimmed beard rise from his seat in the last row. He’s dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest under a matching jacket. He hesitates, then lifts his phone as if taking a picture before slipping out past Wyatt to leave the ceremony altogether.

I frown, but there’s nothing I can do now except wonder who he was. I know all the guests, and though the guy seems somewhat familiar, I can’t place him. I’m certain, however, that he wasn’t invited.

Considering the style of his suit, he’s probably part of Alaine’s catering staff, but that means I need to talk to Alaine about reminding his people to not wander the house or the grounds.

I push it out of my mind for now, and the last remnants of worry flutter away as Damien leaves Evelyn’s side to come sit in the seat beside me, lifting Bradley into his lap as he does so.

He takes my hand, and I lean in with a sigh as Evelyn and Frank exchange the familiar vows to love, honor, and cherish. Right then, my heart couldn’t be fuller as I watch these two people who are so important to us. My father, who worked so hard to turn around a relationship that he’d once walked away from. And Evelyn, who has always been more family to both of us than our own blood.

Damien’s thumb casually strokes my hand as they exchange rings. And with timing that is nothing short of perfect, the sun disappears below the horizon as my father very tenderly kisses the bride.

The reception is spread out over the pool deck, and soon most of the guests head that direction, including Sylvia and Jackson who take all the kids with them, but not until after Damien and I have had a chance to hug the four oldest and tell them what a great job they did in the ceremony.

As the five cousins skip away, Bradley holding tight to Lara’s hand, Damien and I linger, watching Wyatt take a few shots in front of the lights and flowers.

“Not too formal, Wyatt,” Evelyn says. “Why the devil would I want a picture of us looking formal?” My dad laughs and slides his arm around her, and right then I don’t think I could be happier.

“It was beautiful,” I tell Evelyn, as she pulls me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you two.”

“I’m quite pleased with us myself,” Evelyn says. She reaches for Frank’s hand. “I think this time, we both got it right.”

“Yes,” he says, and the love in his eyes is so clear my vision turns misty. “Yes, I’m sure we did.”

Half an hour later, the reception is going strong. The kids are playing on the playscape that we installed just off the patio. Bradley is in the sandbox with Anne, and Lara and Jeffery are on the swings with Ronnie taking turns pushing them. They’re all still relatively tidy, but I don’t expect that to last for long. Already, Lara’s hair has slipped out of the bun and the hairpiece is now part of the sandbox project.

But they’re having a blast, and that’s all I care about right now.

For that matter, as I sit on the edge of one of the chaise lounges and glance around, I can’t help but notice that everyone seems to be having a great time, especially Evelyn and my dad. They’re laughing and mingling and holding hands, and my heart swells so much I actually feel breathless.

“Hey,” Damien says, coming to my side with a glass of bourbon for him and one for me.

“You look happy,” I say, taking the drink, then tilting my head back to receive his kiss.

“I am,” he says, then shakes his head as if forestalling my next question. “None of that matters right now. Tonight is about family,” he adds, as he sits beside me. I draw a breath, lost in the pleasure of being close to my husband and surrounded by our family. And not just the people who share our blood. We’ve built something together, and it’s moments like this that such a simple fact overwhelms me. Because in the years before Damien, all I wanted was to escape my mother, the only family I had back then.

True, I had Jamie and Ollie, but pretty much no one else. We three made up a trifecta of tight friendship that had supported and nurtured me. But this…

Well, this life and family we’ve built is more than I ever hoped for or expected, and I’m feeling so sentimental tonight that I’m certain I’ll be a blubbery mess at our own ceremony next week.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Anne comes running up to us, and Damien bends forward so that he can scoop her up. “It’s the other Frank’s song! Dance with me, Daddy. Please, please?”

The song is Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon, and it’s on the playlist that Evelyn and Frank picked out for the reception. “How could I say no?” He shoots me a grin. “Come on, Princess. Lead the way.”

I watch as they head to the dance floor where Lyle Tarpin, an Oscar-winning actor who Evelyn represents, is already swaying with his wife Laine in his arms. Their relationship had started off almost as crazy as ours after they’d found themselves pretending to be engaged after some provocative photos landed on social media. Like Damien and me, they’re now blissfully in love and very happily married.

We’ve known Lyle for years, and when Anne was young he used to play airplane with her, holding one arm and one leg and twirling her around and around. He’s one of her favorite people, and I’m not at all surprised when Damien and Lyle switch partners for the next song, and Lyle holds Anne’s hands as they sway to I Hope You Dance.

“She’s getting so big,” Jamie says, coming over to me with Bradley on her hip. “And I believe this one belongs to you.”

She passes him off to me, and I accept my sleepy hugs and kisses with pleasure. “I don’t know, Jamie,” I tease. “You and BB looked pretty cozy. And Ryan has that awed look.” I grin at her. “Danger, Will Robinson.”

“Don’t even joke about it. He’s been cuddling Mandy for the last twenty minutes, and I swear Wyatt and Kelsey are going to have to hit him over the head with a club to get their daughter back.” Mandy is six months old and she has her parents—and all the other adults in her life—wrapped around her tiny little fingers.

“He’s ready, James,” I say softly, then watch as she sighs.

“I know. He really is. And I love him so much, you know? I mean, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Hell,” she adds sardonically, “there’s nothing I haven’t done for him.”

I force myself not to laugh. I know a bit about Jamie and Ryan’s sex life, and she’s not exaggerating. “Is that the problem? You think things will become too tame?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, then shrugs. “Hell, Nicholas, I don’t know. Maybe? Or maybe it’s my career, you know? I’m finally starting to land decent roles.”

Finally is right. Jamie struggled for years to get on the screen, ending up as an entertainment reporter before finally getting her break into film and television. Now, her career is hopping, so it makes sense that she’s not ready to start a family. Except I know her well—and I know that she’s scared. What I don’t know is why.

“Jamie…”

“Nope. No deep talks today,” she says. “If we can’t talk about that video, then we can’t talk about my neuroses.” I roll my eyes. Jamie and Ryan had been the first to arrive, and I’d pulled her aside to tell her about the threat and the video. Then, after getting that off my chest, I told her that the topic was verboten for the day.

Now, she lifts her glass, her expression firm. “I’m drinking and celebrating and there will be no deep talks or speculation about babies or scary assholes, right?”

“Right,” I agree, amused.

“And you should be mingling anyway.”

I grimace, but agree. “You’ve hostess guilted me. Want to go make the rounds?”

“Only if we can go see Ollie first. I thought he’d bring a date, but he came totally alone.” Ollie’s dated sporadically since he broke up with his longtime girlfriend, Courtney, but he hasn’t gotten serious about anyone since things ended between them.

“I’m worried about him,” I admit.

“Me, too,” Jamie says. “I think he needs to get over you before he can move on.”

We’d been walking toward the taco stand by which Ollie is lingering, but now I stop cold. “He is. He has been for a long time.” For years, Ollie had a huge crush on me, and while I know that he will always love me as a friend, I truly believe that we’ve moved past that.

Jamie just shrugs. “Probably. Maybe. But I don’t know. I think he holds you up as the standard, you know? I mean, you’re perfect. What other woman can match perfect?”

“Hello? Have we met? I’m a hell of a long way from perfect.”

“Well, sure. I know that.” She flashes a mischievous grin. “Come on, Nik, he’s not that far off. You’re smart and you’re strong. And do not mention the cutting. You got past that, and one relapse doesn’t change anything. You know I’m right. You’d have to be strong to match a guy like Damien. And you do match him.”

My heart stutters in my chest, because she’s right. Damien and I match each other perfectly.

“But Ollie?” Jamie continues, “he needs … well, honestly, I don’t know what Ollie needs.”

“Love,” I say. “He had it with Courtney, and he blew it, and I don’t understand why.”

Jamie gives me the look. “Hello? He couldn’t keep it in his pants, remember? And yes,” she adds, holding up her hands. “Guilty. But that was a mistake. I’m reformed now. A blissfully married woman. And,” she adds, “thank God for that.”

“I just worry about him,” I say as we continue toward him. He glances up, sees us, then says something to the server manning the taco station, a cute guy who I assume is an actor wannabe.

Alaine has several established restaurants around town, plus the catering service he’s currently beta-testing for select clients. Which is fortunate for us, as the serving stations smell absolutely delish.

The server at the taco station grins, then passes Ollie a plate. He takes it, then heads our way. “I come bearing food.” He offers us the plate, now topped with six small tacos. The aroma alone makes my stomach growl, and I realize I’ve been so busy today that I’ve barely eaten anything.

“How goes the secret agenting?” I ask him, making him roll his eyes. Ollie left the practice of law not long ago to work for the FBI. He’s hardly James Bond, but he seems to like the work.

“Screw that,” Jamie says. “Why didn’t you bring a date?”

“Too many women in my life,” he retorts. “All of them wouldn’t fit on the patio, and how could I choose just one?”

“Not seeing anyone at the moment, huh?”

Ollie runs his fingers through his wavy hair. He used to wear it long, but it’s short now and makes his cheekbones, the kind that any woman would die for, stand out even more. “The well is completely dry,” he admits. His shoulders rise and fall. “It’s fine, though. I’m swamped at work. I don’t have time for a relationship, and I haven’t met anyone that I’d want to go there with anyway.” His gaze moves between me and Jamie. “You two set a high bar.”

“You should make time,” Jamie says. “Or at least make time to get laid.”

Ollie and I exchange glances, then burst out laughing.

“What?” Jamie asks as Ollie hooks an arm around both our shoulders.

“Nice to know some things never change,” Ollie says. “Right now, you two are the only women in my life. Except actually, no. I see two beautiful girls over there, and I need to go claim a dance.”

“What?” Jamie asks as Ollie kisses her cheek. “Who?”

But he just grins, kisses me, too, then heads off across the patio to my two little girls, now barreling toward him and squealing for their uncle Ollie.

“He’s a sucker for younger women,” Jamie says, and I laugh.

“Honestly, I don’t know who Ollie’s type is anymore.” I glance back at him once more. “But I hope he figures it out soon.”

“Who are we gossiping about?” Sylvia asks, as she slips past Charles and his wife, both of whom are standing a few yards away. They’re chatting with Carson Donnelly and Matthew Holt, two powerhouses in the entertainment industry. Considering Charles’ firm does a significant amount of entertainment law, I have a feeling they’re talking business despite the party atmosphere.

“Ollie,” Jamie and I say in unison.

“What’s up?”

“Just want to see him settled,” I tell her.

She skims the patio until she finds him. “There’s a new woman at Stark Real Estate Development,” she says. “I could probably manage a blind date.”

I shake my head. “Ask him if you want, but I think he’s in a funk. He’ll figure it out,” I add, with more certainty in my voice than I feel. “Ollie’s an amazing guy, and he deserves an amazing relationship. But I don’t think we can matchmake him into that situation.”

“Matchmake who?” Evelyn asks, coming to join us.

“Ollie,” I tell her, then give her a hug. “Feel different now that you’re married?”

“I do and I don’t. I already loved your father, so nothing’s changed there. But it’s nice to put it out there in the world. You three know what I mean, don’t you?”

I exchange glances with Jamie and Sylvia, who are both smiling and nodding. “Yeah,” I answer for all of us. “We definitely do.”

I spend most of the next two hours with Damien at my side as we dance with the kids and mingle with all the guests, praising Evelyn and Frank while catching up on everybody’s news. Which is how I learn that not only is Matthew Holt producing a new musical that will premier next year, but that Kelsey—an incredible dancer—is starring in it.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” I tell her.

“I can’t,” she says, leaning against Wyatt. “But that’s part of the show. In a world where everyone communicates by singing, I’m the oddball who only dances. It’s different, but the book and lyrics are brilliant.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Damien says.

“We’re rehearsing and opening in LA,” she tells us. “I insisted because I don’t want to be away from Mandy.” She crosses her fingers, and adds, “Once we move to Broadway, Wyatt and I will get an apartment there. But that’s still a long way off. Right now, I’m just so grateful to Matthew for taking a chance on the show.”

I glance over at Matthew, a stunning man with broad shoulders, chestnut hair, and the reputation of being an eccentric genius with a dangerous edge. Like Damien, Matthew exudes power and control even when he’s doing nothing more than standing there.

He’s also the owner of Masque, a private sex club that Damien and I have visited, and where I know Jamie and Ryan have a membership.

Now I can’t help but wonder how much Kelsey knows about the show’s benefactor. Or, for that matter, if she and Wyatt are members of the club. I think about Wyatt’s photography show filled with erotic images for which Kelsey posed not long before they got married, and I have to admit the possibility wouldn’t surprise me at all.

“We need to go back,” Damien whispers.

His finger traces up my spine, setting my whole body on fire as I tilt my head to look at him. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just kisses my nose and whispers, “Soon.” And from the heat in his eyes, I know he means it.

After more mingling, eating, and drinking, Alaine finally rolls out the wedding cake. As Evelyn and Frank wanted, it has only two tiers. The bottom is a yellow cake with white frosting and the top is chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Nothing ornate but, as Evelyn said, “Our cake, our day. And I’ve never been a fan of fancy sweet things. Give me Betty Crocker, and I’m fine.”

This is definitely several steps up from a box cake, but it has a practical simplicity that I think fits both Evelyn and Frank. Soon the cake has been diminished to almost nothing, the kids are covered in chocolate, and we’re all raising our champagne glasses to toast the bride and groom before seeing them off to the bungalow.

Everyone gathers for hugs and congratulations, and happy tears prick my eyes as I wrap my arms around each of them in turn. Then we wave them away as they walk hand-in-hand down the lit path to the bungalow. I watch until they round a bend and disappear out of sight.

I’m leaning back against Damien, and his arms go around me, his chin on top of my head. “May their love be as strong as ours,” he whispers, and the tears finally escape to trickle down my cheeks.

“That’s beautiful,” I say.

“It’s the most I can hope for anyone. The most and the best.”

I turn in his arms, then kiss him, my whole body alive with happiness.

“All right, you two,” Jackson says, striding up with Ryan at his side. “Aren’t you supposed to slide into work mode now?”

Damien chuckles. “If you mean asking for everyone’s opinions on the catering, we are indeed.”

Alaine joins us, along with all of the servers who were manning the various stations. They look like an army of men and women in white shirts and black vests, but I don’t see the man I saw slip out of the back row.

I’m about to mention him to Damien, but am sidetracked when Alaine asks the lineup to describe the dish they were serving and then invites our friends to comment on which ones they liked the best. We end up spending the next forty-five minutes discussing the dishes, and even sampling a few all over again. Just to be sure, of course.

Alaine takes notes, then promises to call me and Damien early in the week so we can further discuss and finalize our menu.

“This has been amazing,” I tell him a few moments later after Damien and I have said goodbye to several of the guests. “Thank you so much. Do you want to join us for a drink? A few of us are going to go inside for a coffee or nightcap.” Jamie and Ryan are staying, along with Sylvia and Jackson, who have no reason to get home early since their kids are staying overnight in the playroom with ours.

Ollie, unfortunately, declines, as does Alaine, who notes that some of his staff are still being trained, and he wants to keep an eye on them as they close the kitchen.

“So it’s just us six,” I say, as we start to head inside. I lock the first floor’s sliding patio door so none of the little ones can escape back outside. Not that I’m worried; the house has all kinds of security, after all.

Jamie and I fall in step together as we head up the stairs, the others lingering behind since Jackson, Sylvia, and Damien are talking about a new Stark-Steele real estate project in which Ryan has invested.

“Do they not understand that now is the time for wine and chill?” Jamie asks.

“It’s their way,” I say, and we both start to laugh.

The sound dies in my throat, though, as we reach the top of the stairs and my portrait—the nude for which Damien paid me a million dollars—comes into view.

But it’s not the familiar painting that draws my attention. It’s the note taped to the frame, written in red crayon on gray construction paper.

Do you really love her, or is she just one more woman you treat like a whore?