“I have a toast I want to do tomorrow,” she replied, “but I’d like to check with you to see if what I’ve got planned is okay. Do you have a minute?”
He glanced around the table at all the faces watching him and managed to conjure up what he hoped was a passable smile. “Of course.” He dipped his head toward the rest of them. “Excuse us.”
“Don’t you want me to come?” Noelle asked. “I should probably know about it, if it’s for the wedding.”
“Um…” As Gail’s eyes shifted to his fiancée, Kyle was willing to bet only he knew how much Gail disliked her.
“It’s actually a surprise,” Gail said. “For you! So…it would be better if you stayed here, okay?”
Obviously flattered, Noelle preened for Brandon as if this somehow proved her importance. Then Brandon turned to Kyle, and he might as well have said, “You’re a fool if you go through with this,” because it was written all over his face.
“What about your dinner?” Noelle’s mother piped up. “Can’t you talk about the toast after you finish? You’ve hardly eaten a thing!”
Kyle put his napkin to the side of his plate. “I’m too excited to eat,” he said, even though excitement played no role.
Eager to escape, he followed his friend out of the room and then out of the restaurant to a patio that was empty except for a few lingering diners who congregated around a table at one end.
“What’s going on?” he murmured.
“That’s what I’m wondering,” she said, turning to confront him. “I’ve never seen you drink so much at someone else’s rehearsal dinner—and this is your own!”
“I’m fine. I—”
She squeezed his arm. “Kyle, please. If the rest of the gang could’ve gotten out of that room without making it look too odd, they’d be here with me, trying to talk some sense into you.”
He knew where this was going. “She’s having my baby, Gail.”
She pressed two fingers to each temple. “I know! I understand you feel responsible for that. And I admire how determined you are to do the right thing. But…I can’t bear to see you unhappy. We all feel like we’re attending your funeral instead of your wedding!”
The others must have shared the details of the past few weeks with her because he hadn’t had the chance to say much since she hit town. She lived in L.A., was the only member of their group to have moved away and had been gone since starting her public relations firm over a decade ago.
Normally he loved it when she came home. She had the best stories about the movie stars she represented. At last count, she was working with several box office hits, including Hollywood heavyweight Simon O’Neal. But they hadn’t had a chance to catch up on any of that this time around.
“It’s just extra hard,” he said. “With Olivia here.”
“I’ve let my work take over my life, so I’m no expert on relationships,” she said. “But…if you won’t cancel this, you should at least put it off until you’re more confident in your decision.”
He laughed. “Are you kidding me? The wedding’s tomorrow, Gail. There’s no way I can change anything.” If he backed out, he feared Noelle would make it impossible for him to ever see his child. As long as she got her way, she was tractable. But if he embarrassed or upset her, she’d fight him on everything.
“Kyle—”
“There you are.”
They both turned to see Eve, who managed The Gold Nugget, the bed and breakfast owned by her family.
“Did you tell him what we think?” she asked Gail.
Gail shot Kyle a meaningful glance. “I told him.”
Eve gave him a stern look. “So are you going to call it off?”
Once again, he searched for a better way to handle the situation but couldn’t find one. “No. I’m going to be a father. Nothing can take precedence over that.”
*
They were almost out of the room, almost free, when Kyle’s father caught up with Brandon and pulled him off to one side. “So what are you doing to keep busy now that the cast is off?” he asked.
Olivia gritted her teeth at being detained. She couldn’t wait to leave, to put the rehearsal dinner behind them and return to the peace of Brandon’s secluded cabin. She needed to regroup, but she couldn’t allow her eagerness to show. Everyone was watching her too closely, wondering if she’d been late in some passive-aggressive attempt to make her unhappiness known.
“Just working out every day, trying to get in shape for the season.”
Brandon answered Bob’s questions politely, but Olivia could tell he was purposely playing up the ski bum image. He’d already told her that spring and summer were almost as busy as fall and winter. When she’d acted surprised, he’d explained that he had to meet with his sponsors, be available to film commercials and participate in photo shoots, most of which required travel to New York or Los Angeles. He also had to appear at various events, including children’s camps and autographings, and increase his presence on social networking sites. Professional skiing was a business as much as a sport, and the stacks of paperwork on his desk—mostly contracts of one kind or another—seemed to prove it. So did the poster samples he’d been sent. One showed him dropping, seemingly without effort, down the face of an alarmingly steep mountain wearing an expensive brand of ski gear. Another captured his smiling face in a pair of Oakley goggles with ice crystals caught in the beard growth along his jaw.
He could’ve told his stepfather about these things. He could also have mentioned that he was making a tremendous amount of money. Although they hadn’t spoken about that aspect, Olivia could tell it was true. But Brandon refused to vie for Bob’s approval, and Olivia couldn’t help but respect that.
“Can the leg take another season?” This question was spoken with apparent concern, but Olivia heard the subtext. Bob thought Brandon should hang up his skis and get serious about life.
She guessed Brandon interpreted his tone the same way and that made her sad. Brandon was one of the best skiers in the world, yet Bob treated him as if he hadn’t accomplished anything. He seemed to think Brandon should be a horse breeder like him, or something else more “legitimate,” like Kyle.
“Leg’s getting stronger all the time,” Brandon assured him. “It’ll be fine.”