The Perfect Wedding. Arlene James

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The Perfect Wedding - Arlene  James


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beneath the arch that led out into the front showroom, keeping as much distance as possible between the two of them and the Stapletons. “I would imagine Dedrah didn’t want him to feel pressured,” she said. “They had broken up. He’d gone off to war. It wasn’t as if he could do anything about it from Saudi Arabia.”

      “No, it wasn’t,” Rod agreed, “especially as he didn’t know. But like I said, I think he cared about her all along, because when he got stationed over at Ft. Sill, he didn’t waste any time looking her up, and apparently as soon as he laid eyes on Heather he knew she was his.”

      “And naturally he claimed her.”

      “Not yet,” Rod said uneasily. “I mean, not legally. The wedding will pretty much take care of that, but we haven’t figured out exactly how to handle the rest of it. The wedding’s the important thing, though. If we do that right, that’s half the battle. It took him some time to convince Dedrah that he really wanted to marry her.” Rod went on. “He was back in this area a couple of weeks before I even found out any of this.”

      “And when you did, you offered them the wedding of their dreams,” Layne supplied helpfully.

      Rod grinned. “Something like that. The point is, Sam’s a good kid who’s made a mistake, and now I’m trying to help him overcome it, not that any of us consider Heather a mistake, mind you. It’s just that they did kind of get the cart before the horse, and now they’ve got to…well, hold their heads up and fix it. They’re doing the right thing by getting married, but I personally think how they do it is important, too. I mean, if they slink off and do it in some shabby little office somewhere, that’s the same as saying they’re ashamed, don’t you think?”

      Layne shrugged uncomfortably; this really wasn’t any of her business. But he had asked. “I don’t know. I suppose some people might think so.”

      “Right, and I just don’t see why those kids ought to have to deal with that. Besides, they have every right to a fancy wedding. You understand what I’m saying?”

      “I think I do,” Layne said. “You don’t want them to miss out on anything.”

      “Them or that little girl,” he said, then a pained expression flitted across his face. “I know this wedding’s liable to cause some gossip,” he went on, “and goodness knows Dedrah’s had plenty of that already. If people only knew, when they started whispering tales, how much hurt they were causing, there wouldn’t be any such thing as gossip. But nobody seems to consider that, and I’ve no reason to think they will now. But I think it’ll all turn out for the best if we just keep our heads up and go on as we would have if they hadn’t made that one mistake.”

      Layne smiled and was bold enough to reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “I think they’re very blessed to have you,” she told him.

      His head bowed, and he started working his way around the brim of his hat with both hands. She took her hand away, and he said softly, “I think we’re all blessed for having found you to help us,” he said.

      Layne put her head back and laughed. “Mr. Corley,” she said, “you could hardly have missed me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the only game in town.”

      “And most any other woman in that position would be a real snooty sort,” he said, “but you’re not like that at all.”

      She actually felt herself blush. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

      “Kindness deserves kindness,” he said softly, and for just a moment Layne had the crazy notion that they were somehow set apart from the others in the building. She could see and hear the others around them, and yet the spot where they stood had the most amazingly intimate aura about it. Then everything snapped back into perspective, and she saw clearly that they enjoyed no privacy whatsoever.

      She lifted her chin, swallowed and wrapped her arms about herself as casually as she could manage. “You know, you really don’t owe me any explanations,” she pointed out. “I’m hired help, and because my services aren’t free, it pays to be on my best behavior with all my clients. If some are easier to be kind to than others, well, that’s a blessing.”

      “I just thought it’d help if you understood the circumstances fully,” he said, and she nodded.

      “It does. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome. Now would you do me a favor?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

      Anything, she thought, but wisely she said only, “If I can.”

      He lifted his hat and fitted it carefully onto his head, saying, “Now don’t agree too fast. This is a biggie.”

      Somehow she doubted it. The gleam in his smoky blue eyes seemed to say that he was teasing. “What?” she urged, her face perfectly blank.

      He tugged his hat brim down over his eyebrows and leaned forward, whispering, “Call me Rod.”

      The corners of her mouth quirked upward. “My name is Layne, in case you’ve forgotten,” she said, and those blue-gray eyes twinkled brightly.

      “I haven’t forgotten.”

      She nodded, feeling terribly conspicuous, where moments before she’d felt set apart, and said, “See you Friday, Rod.”

      He shot her a smile like white lightning. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Layne.”

      He tipped his hat and left her. Her heart was beating a slow, steady, but very pronounced staccato. Not the groom at all, she thought. Thank you, God. She smiled to herself. Only four months, but this was going to be a wedding to really make Rod Corley proud. It was going to take lots of her personal attention, she decided, more so than any wedding she’d ever handled. But something told her it was going to be worth it. Something told her she had just met the man intended for her, the man of her dreams, the answer to her prayers. Cherishing that secret, she turned back to Mrs. Stapleton and Leslie, and this time her smile was the real thing. Never mind that it wasn’t for them.

       Chapter Three

      Layne had plenty of time to think and pray before Friday, and yet, by the time that last appointment of the day drew near, she was painfully conscious of a fluttering in her stomach. It was not unlike the moment when all her efforts seemed to culminate: the church was filled, the music ceased, the mother of the bride and both of the groom’s parents were seated, the wedding party in all its finery poised on the brink of movement, and then began the processional. Step, pause, step. Step, pause, step. Maids in beautiful dresses, their faces composed with serenity and joy, moved down the aisle on the arms of tuxedoed young men, grave and solicitous. Then came “Here Comes the Bride,” those first familiar notes ringing out with the authority of trumpet blows, and the crowd rose expectantly to its feet. Poised in the doorway was the bride in all her elegant finery, clutching the arm of a nervous father. She was always extraordinarily beautiful, and it never failed to thrill Layne that all the old pundits were right. The groom took one look and his chest swelled with pride, his eyes sparkled, and a smile touched his lips.

      This was love, sacred and ordained, the very height of it, when commitment was made and reveled in. Everything after that moment was anticlimactic to Layne, though she knew it was not so for the couple involved. For them, the pageant had only begun, while her part in it was all but finished. Sometimes she wondered if she didn’t stay in this business just for the satisfaction of that one moment when she recognized love reflected in the eyes of the groom as he saw his bride as the most beautiful creature on earth. Just once she wanted a groom’s eyes on her.

      It was the foolish thought of a natural-born romantic, and she thrust it away as soon as it formed, but it came flooding back to her when she heard chimes and turned to find Rod Corley staring at her, an appreciative gleam in the dusky blue depths of his eyes. Immediately, the butterflies in her stomach


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