The Sparkling One

Page 7

In a surprisingly short period of time, the family had worked through a number of points. At this rate the wedding would be planned by ten that night. If they were going to work fast, he would have to work faster.
Mia drew more hearts on her paper. “I haven’t had time to start looking for dress ideas yet, Grammy M. Maybe we can go out next week.”
Mia’s petite Irish grandmother shook her head. “My hands aren’t steady enough anymore,” she said quietly. “It’s time for someone else to be in charge.” She turned to the granddaughter sitting next to her and clasped Katie’s hands. “Katie will make your dress.”
Make? Zach blinked stupidly. Couldn’t they just buy it…and return it when the wedding was canceled?
There was a second of silence, followed by an explosion of conversation. Mia raced around David to hug and kiss her sister. Colleen wiped away a tear. Katie simply looked stunned.
Apparently not, he thought grimly.
“Are you sure, Grammy?” Katie asked.
“Yes. You were always the most patient and the best seamstress. You’ll make your sister a beautiful dress.”
Mia pulled Katie from her chair and hugged her again. “We can go shopping together and find the absolutely best pattern and then come home and make it. I’m so happy!”
Chairs were pushed back as the family collected for a group hug. Once again all Zach wanted to do was grab his kid and bolt for freedom. Instead a surprisingly wiry Grandma Tessa pulled him to his feet, where he was ushered into the crowd.
David owed him for this, he told himself as Lorenzo grabbed him by both arms and kissed his cheeks. David owed him big time.
4
Z ach and David didn’t escape until well after midnight, although Zach doubted his son viewed their leaving as an escape. David had seemed genuinely sad to go.
Zach congratulated himself on having the foresight to have his assistant, Dora, make reservations at a nearby hotel. After the post-dinner brandies, not to mention an impromptu sing-along with a Barber of Seville CD, he was in no shape to face the long drive back to Los Angeles.
Instead he and David bedded down in adjoining rooms in a small beach-front hotel that had probably been fashionable back in the nineteen-forties.
He’d barely turned out the lights and shifted on a mattress that had seen better days when he heard footsteps rustling on the carpet. He clicked the light back on.
David stood in the doorway between their rooms. Sometimes his son seemed so grown-up. He was capable and competent. But tonight, wearing the hotel’s too-big bathrobe, with his hair mussed and a thousand questions in his eyes, he looked like a little boy. Zach shoved several pillows behind his back so he could sit up, then motioned to the room’s only chair.
“Let’s talk about it,” he said.
David shifted his weight from foot to foot, then slowly headed for the dark blue armchair. He sat down, legs parted, hands hanging between his knees.
“So what’d you think?” he asked, not quite looking at his father.
Zach considered the question. There was no way he was going to tell his son what he really thought about anything. “They’re nice people.”
“Yeah?” David glanced up, his expression hopeful. “I really like them all,” he admitted. “I mean Mia’s great and I love her a lot, so the family’s just a bonus, you know?”
“Sure. Kind of like finding a plastic race car in the cereal box.”
David grinned. “Exactly. I like spending time there.”
He hesitated. Zach waited patiently, knowing that his son would get to whatever he had to say eventually.
“I don’t remember my grandmother very well,” David admitted softly, speaking of Zach’s mother.
“You were what, six, when she died?”
David nodded. “And I never met your dad, or my mom’s parents.”
Zach figured the day had been crappy enough without him having to think about Ainsley, or his ex-in-laws.
“I really like the idea of a big family, Dad,” David continued. “It took me three visits to figure out Mia’s grandparents. Grandpa Lorenzo is always talking about vines and grapes. I don’t get the whole wine thing, but it’s fun to listen. He tells great stories about going back to Europe during the Second World War and smuggling out cuttings from French and Italian vineyards. Mia’s grandparents found these really old architecture plans based on some house for a Spanish nobleman and used them to design the house.”
Zach listened without saying anything. He was just a single father—a lawyer who worked in an office. No way he could compete with Spanish noblemen and war stories.
He wanted to slam his fist against a wall and demand a fair trial. He’d done the best he could. Ainsley had been the least maternal woman known to the human race, and when she’d bailed, he’d been left alone with a child. He and his son had grown up together. Sometimes Zach even allowed himself to think he’d done a damn fine job.
“I was an only child as well,” he said casually. “I know what it’s like to want a big family. But we’ve done okay together.”
David swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m not complaining, Dad.”
“I know you’re not. You’re saying that your attraction to Mia isn’t just because she’s a pretty girl who makes your heart beat faster.”
David nodded.
Zach didn’t want to hear that. It meant breaking them up was going to be more difficult than he’d first thought.
“You were really great tonight,” his son said. “I could tell you were sort of, you know, uncomfortable, but you did good.”
Zach didn’t know if he should be pleased or insulted by the compliment. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, I mean it. You’re trying to keep an open mind about everything.”
Warning bells went off in Zach’s head. “What do you mean?”
David crossed and uncrossed his legs. “Just that you’re not a huge fan of the whole wedding thing. At least not for me.” He grinned. “Dad, you haven’t said anything. But I’m your kid. I know you. I’d have to be a complete moron not to guess that you’re a little nervous about the idea of me getting married. You probably want to ship me off to an island somewhere on the other side of the planet. I appreciate that you’re really listening to me, to what I want.”
He rose and headed for the open door between their rooms. “Some parents would lay down the law, but you’re willing to let me go my own way. I know you think I’m making a mistake, but you’re wrong. Mia is absolutely the one for me. So thanks for being supportive.” He gave a small wave. “Night.”
“Good night.”
Zach could barely speak, what with the way his throat was closing. When David climbed into his bed and turned out the light, Zach clicked off his as well. But he didn’t slide back down in bed. Instead he stared into the darkness and mentally ran through every swear word he’d ever heard.
He hadn’t fooled David for a minute. He supposed it was a testament to his child’s intelligence…or maybe it was just that he hadn’t done a good job of concealing his feelings. Either way, he was going to have to be more careful than ever. If David was alerted, he would be on guard. Zach was still determined to stop the wedding at any cost. The trick would be getting David to think it was his own idea.
“My client had an excellent grade-point average while she was in college,” Zach said.
Wayne Johnson, the attorney for the opposition, sighed in mock disgust. “She was studying sculpture. Are you trying to tell us that she plans to get a master’s in sculpturing? I wasn’t aware there were that many openings for professional sculptors. Or is it sculptress?”
Zach ignored the question. He knew Wayne. They’d been on opposite sides of the negotiating table many times. The thing Zach liked most about Wayne was that the man didn’t learn. He had yet to figure out that Zach always won.
Zach glanced at his client, a small, quiet woman in her forties. Her husband, a successful accountant with a practice specializing in movie stars and doctors, had left her for a much younger woman. He wanted to dump the old and used, and marry the trophy wife. Obviously it didn’t bother him that the future Mrs. Allen Franklin was two years older than his oldest child.
Zach turned away from Wayne and spoke to the judge overseeing their mediation session.
“Mrs. Franklin was a promising young artist when she met Mr. Franklin. She’d just received her B.A. and was expecting to start on her master’s in the fall. She’d had two showings, had sold several pieces, and had been given a grant. When Mr. Franklin proposed, he requested that they start a family right away and asked my client to give up her art.”
“She could have said no,” Wayne pointed out.
“She could have. Or Mr. Franklin could have respected her talent. Your honor, my client’s request that her husband support her while she returns to college to get an advanced degree isn’t unreasonable. She plans to get a master’s in elementary education, thereby allowing herself to find a job and be a contributing member of society.”
Zach knew that the request was a little unusual, but it was what his client wanted.
Wayne slapped several folders onto the conference table. “Your Honor, Mr. Stryker and his client have passed from reasonable to greedy. It’s one thing to talk about helping Mrs. Franklin get back on her feet, but between the request for alimony and the ridiculous property split, Mr. Franklin is the one who is going to need assistance.”
The judge looked at Zach.
Zach shrugged. “I’m sorry Mr. Franklin feels he doesn’t have the resources necessary to aid his wife.”
“He does not.”
Zach shifted a file from the bottom of the stack in front of him to the top. “Perhaps if Mr. Franklin were to liquidate some of the assets he purchased for his new lifestyle, he wouldn’t feel the financial pinch quite so much.” Zach casually pushed the folder toward the judge. “Assets he purchased with community property, Your Honor. Actually, under California law, they’re technically half Mrs. Franklin’s.”
Zach gave Wayne a slight smile. Both the lawyer and his client paled suddenly. Mr. Franklin had a heated conversation with his attorney that wasn’t as quiet as it should have been. Zach caught a couple of choice phrases along the lines of “You told me no one would find out about the beach house” and “You mean I have to pay her for half the jewelry I bought Sara?”
“Mr. Franklin was not as forthcoming as he could have been on his financial statements,” Zach said unnecessarily.
The judge was not amused.
An hour later they reached a settlement that would ensure that Mrs. Franklin would have ample funds to support her while she studied for her advanced degree. If she didn’t spend her days on Rodeo Drive, she wouldn’t need to work again at all.
After Wayne and a very angry Mr. Franklin stormed past them, Zach turned to his client.
She shook her head. “I didn’t think you could get it all.”
“You gave me your wish list. I did my best to achieve it. Your husband was stupid. Hiding money in a community property state is guaranteed to make the courts angry. Once I found out what he’d done, I knew we’d win.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Do me a favor,” he said.
She smiled. “Let me guess. Pay your bill on time?”
“I’ll be going after your ex-husband for that. Don’t forget the judge slapped him with the fees. Actually, the favor is—before you get married again, give me a call. I’ll write up a prenup that will protect you so you don’t have to fight so hard next time.”
“I’m not getting married again.”
“Right. Just give me a call.”