Every Little Thing
Page 79
“If you can change how the people of this town see you, you can change Bailey Hartwell’s mind,” Cat assured him.
God, he hoped so. “I guess we’ll see.” He looked at Cooper. “Do you have everything you need?”
The nervous groom sucked in a huge breath and exhaled. “Yeah, think so.”
“No nerves, Lawson. No reason for them. She loves you.”
“Yeah, I know, I just want to get married quickly before she comes to her senses and changes her mind.”
“Not going to happen. So you’re set?”
“Crosby might need some new fingernails,” Cat joked. The man hadn’t said a word since Vaughn had entered the room.
Crosby scowled at Cat and dropped his hand from his mouth.
“I’m just going to check everything is as it should be for the reception.” Vaughn strode to the door. “Ceremony is in thirty minutes, so I advise you to make your way down to the bandstand.”
Ten minutes later Vaughn was assured that his staff had everything under way for the reception that afternoon. He wandered back through his hotel, politely greeting his guests, as he made to leave for the ceremony.
In that moment he took a surprising amount of joy in the idea of Cooper and Jessica finding a happy life together, and he had hope that he could turn things around with Bailey.
That hope smashed into smithereens when he walked into the foyer of his hotel and saw who was standing at reception.
“Oliver?”
Dread filled him as Oliver Spence grinned at him and spread his arms wide. He was wearing a tux. “Heard there was a wedding.”
Fuck.
“Oliver, what are you doing here?” He noted the two women standing behind his old friend, and that dread worsened.
“I’m bored.” Oliver strode over to him and slid an arm around his shoulders. “I was out last night at some boring society charity event and I bumped into your father. He said that your friends were getting married at your hotel here and I got curious. So I thought I’d come crash the party, and bring you a present, too.” He gestured behind him to the two women and they strode over in their six-inch heels, their hips swaying in beautiful exaggeration.
“Vaughn, this is Karen.” Oliver slid his arm around the gorgeous brunette’s slim waist. “And that is Petra.” He nodded to the striking blonde. “Karen and Petra are getting ready for New York Fashion Week.”
Models. Vaughn wasn’t surprised. They were both taller than him and Oliver in their six-inch heels, which put their non-heel-wearing height at about five ten, five eleven.
“We need to talk. Alone.”
Frowning, Oliver followed him across the foyer. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you.”
“I don’t need this right now, Spence. I don’t need a Petra right now. I have a wedding to get to.”
“Give me a break, Vaughn,” Oliver groaned. “I need time away from New York, okay? I’m going out of my mind there. And I haven’t seen this place in a while. I’m not trying to get in your way.”
“You can’t come to the ceremony.”
“Of course not. I don’t know these people. We’re just here for the evening reception. You don’t have a date for the reception, do you?”
“No but—”
“Great.” Oliver smacked Vaughn on the back. “Petra is a sweetheart. She’s Karen’s best friend. Oh, and did I tell you Karen’s surname is De Havilland? Not only is she a successful model but she’s the granddaughter of Frederick De Havilland.”
“The shipping magnate?”
“The very one. Blue blood through and through. My mother loves her, which should be a deterrent, but I’m crazy about this girl. She might be the next Mrs. Spence. For real this time.”
“Happy for you, Oliver. But I’m going to be late.”
“Go, go.” He shooed him away. “We’ll be here, waiting for the fun to start.”
Knowing how stubborn his friend could be, and that he wasn’t going to get rid of him anytime soon, Vaughn sighed and walked over to the concierge, gesturing to Oliver to follow him. “Alonso, this is a good friend of mine, Mr. Spence. Would you see to it that Mr. Spence and his friends are provided with a table in the bar? Add whatever they order to my tab.”
“Of course, sir.”
Oliver smacked him on the back. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?”
“Once.” Vaughn nodded, shrugging his tux back into place. “When you were high, and you thought I was a Korean girl called Nari that you left behind on your travels in Seoul.”
“Really?” His friend sounded fascinated. “I can’t remember that. I can’t remember the girl, either. Then again I hardly remember Seoul. God, you’ve got a good memory.”
“You felt me up. Hard to forget.”
His friend threw his head back in laughter and Vaughn couldn’t help but join him. The dread he was feeling eased a little. Oliver was just here to relieve his boredom, but he’d never done anything truly embarrassing in public. He’d left those moments to private times. He’d behave himself. Vaughn was sure of it.
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
By the time Vaughn got to the bandstand the place was packed. All of the chairs that had been lined up in front of the bandstand on Main Street were full. He knew from listening to Jessica, and seeing the chosen decoration for the ballroom, that she was a minimalist. The chair covers were white with silver sashes but that was the extent of the decoration.
God, he hoped so. “I guess we’ll see.” He looked at Cooper. “Do you have everything you need?”
The nervous groom sucked in a huge breath and exhaled. “Yeah, think so.”
“No nerves, Lawson. No reason for them. She loves you.”
“Yeah, I know, I just want to get married quickly before she comes to her senses and changes her mind.”
“Not going to happen. So you’re set?”
“Crosby might need some new fingernails,” Cat joked. The man hadn’t said a word since Vaughn had entered the room.
Crosby scowled at Cat and dropped his hand from his mouth.
“I’m just going to check everything is as it should be for the reception.” Vaughn strode to the door. “Ceremony is in thirty minutes, so I advise you to make your way down to the bandstand.”
Ten minutes later Vaughn was assured that his staff had everything under way for the reception that afternoon. He wandered back through his hotel, politely greeting his guests, as he made to leave for the ceremony.
In that moment he took a surprising amount of joy in the idea of Cooper and Jessica finding a happy life together, and he had hope that he could turn things around with Bailey.
That hope smashed into smithereens when he walked into the foyer of his hotel and saw who was standing at reception.
“Oliver?”
Dread filled him as Oliver Spence grinned at him and spread his arms wide. He was wearing a tux. “Heard there was a wedding.”
Fuck.
“Oliver, what are you doing here?” He noted the two women standing behind his old friend, and that dread worsened.
“I’m bored.” Oliver strode over to him and slid an arm around his shoulders. “I was out last night at some boring society charity event and I bumped into your father. He said that your friends were getting married at your hotel here and I got curious. So I thought I’d come crash the party, and bring you a present, too.” He gestured behind him to the two women and they strode over in their six-inch heels, their hips swaying in beautiful exaggeration.
“Vaughn, this is Karen.” Oliver slid his arm around the gorgeous brunette’s slim waist. “And that is Petra.” He nodded to the striking blonde. “Karen and Petra are getting ready for New York Fashion Week.”
Models. Vaughn wasn’t surprised. They were both taller than him and Oliver in their six-inch heels, which put their non-heel-wearing height at about five ten, five eleven.
“We need to talk. Alone.”
Frowning, Oliver followed him across the foyer. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you.”
“I don’t need this right now, Spence. I don’t need a Petra right now. I have a wedding to get to.”
“Give me a break, Vaughn,” Oliver groaned. “I need time away from New York, okay? I’m going out of my mind there. And I haven’t seen this place in a while. I’m not trying to get in your way.”
“You can’t come to the ceremony.”
“Of course not. I don’t know these people. We’re just here for the evening reception. You don’t have a date for the reception, do you?”
“No but—”
“Great.” Oliver smacked Vaughn on the back. “Petra is a sweetheart. She’s Karen’s best friend. Oh, and did I tell you Karen’s surname is De Havilland? Not only is she a successful model but she’s the granddaughter of Frederick De Havilland.”
“The shipping magnate?”
“The very one. Blue blood through and through. My mother loves her, which should be a deterrent, but I’m crazy about this girl. She might be the next Mrs. Spence. For real this time.”
“Happy for you, Oliver. But I’m going to be late.”
“Go, go.” He shooed him away. “We’ll be here, waiting for the fun to start.”
Knowing how stubborn his friend could be, and that he wasn’t going to get rid of him anytime soon, Vaughn sighed and walked over to the concierge, gesturing to Oliver to follow him. “Alonso, this is a good friend of mine, Mr. Spence. Would you see to it that Mr. Spence and his friends are provided with a table in the bar? Add whatever they order to my tab.”
“Of course, sir.”
Oliver smacked him on the back. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?”
“Once.” Vaughn nodded, shrugging his tux back into place. “When you were high, and you thought I was a Korean girl called Nari that you left behind on your travels in Seoul.”
“Really?” His friend sounded fascinated. “I can’t remember that. I can’t remember the girl, either. Then again I hardly remember Seoul. God, you’ve got a good memory.”
“You felt me up. Hard to forget.”
His friend threw his head back in laughter and Vaughn couldn’t help but join him. The dread he was feeling eased a little. Oliver was just here to relieve his boredom, but he’d never done anything truly embarrassing in public. He’d left those moments to private times. He’d behave himself. Vaughn was sure of it.
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
By the time Vaughn got to the bandstand the place was packed. All of the chairs that had been lined up in front of the bandstand on Main Street were full. He knew from listening to Jessica, and seeing the chosen decoration for the ballroom, that she was a minimalist. The chair covers were white with silver sashes but that was the extent of the decoration.
