Flawless (66 page)

Taking the hint, Jake pulled away, still clasping both Scarlett’s hands in his.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Perry told me,” said Scarlett. “I went straight to the store and he said Diana was in labor and you’d taken off. The flowers were for Diana,” she added lamely.

“Good.” Jake grinned. “White roses don’t really float my boat. I’ve always been more of a blowjob man.”

“Jake!” Scarlett blushed and giggled.

“Oh, Scarlett,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’ve been such a dick. I know we’ve got a lot to talk about, and we can’t just pick up where we left off. You’re probably thinking I’m the same old Jake Meyer and it’ll never work out, not in the long run. But I’ve changed, I really have. Since Danny became a father—”

Now it was Scarlett’s turn to grin. “And when was that, exactly?”

“About forty minutes ago,” said Jake. “Look, I know it’s complicated. We need to take things slowly. But I love you; I fucking love you so much, and—”

“Jake?”

Ruth, looking small and bewildered in her white lab coat, suddenly appeared in the flower shop doorway. Diana had been too exhausted for a long visit, so she’d decided to come and find him and suggest they came back in the morning.

But one look at the two figures in front of her told her that wasn’t going to happen.

“You must be Scarlett.”

“That’s right.”

Smiling bravely, Ruth marched over and shook her rival’s hand. Deep in her heart, she had always known there was a piece missing in Jake’s love for her. And now here she was, shaking the missing piece’s hand.

Watching her, Jake had never felt smaller. Ruth was twice the man he’d ever be.

“Scarlett just arrived,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I wasn’t expecting her. I mean, I didn’t know—”

Ruth held up her hand. She was already using every ounce of her pride and strength to hold it together. If Jake started apologizing, she knew the tears would flow.

“Please, don’t. I understand.” She was looking at Scarlett, unwilling or unable to meet Jake’s eye. “I wish you both the best.”

“Ruth!” Jake called after her. But she had already bolted out the door and was half walking, half running down the street.

“I’m so sorry,” said Scarlett sincerely. “It was selfish of me. I should never have come. Your life’s moved on, and here I come like the ghost of Christmas past, hurting everybody and—”

He stopped her with a kiss. The cashier started coughing again. The poor girl sounded like she had advanced TB.

“My life started the day I met you,” said Jake, “and it stopped the day you left. Promise you’ll never leave me again. Never.”

Scarlett nodded fervently.

He was right; they had a lot to talk about.

But she knew she would never, ever leave him again.

T
OPANGA WAS THE
perfect setting for a Christmas wedding.

Thanks to good old Aunt Agnes—or Saint Agnes, as the Meyer brothers had rechristened her—and her timely investment in Solomon Stones, Danny had bought the 1920s farmhouse he had fallen in love with over the summer and spent the past few months refurbishing it. Diana broke down in tears the day that she and Zack moved in—Danny had insisted that they finish the work first so as not to expose the baby to any dust, and he wanted their first family home to be perfect before his darling girl saw it. And in Diana’s eyes, it truly was.

“Oh my God. It’s a fairy tale,” she sobbed, gazing in wonder at the freshly planted cottage gardens and the gleaming new whitewash on the facade. “I feel like Snow White.”

Inside it was even more charming, with not so much as a hint of Danny’s bachelor taste in evidence. The old pine floors were simply stripped, the walls painted in strong, bright colors offset by clean, white Shaker furniture, and all the original features, like the wood-burning stove in the kitchen, had been salvaged and lovingly restored. Best of all was Zack’s nursery, a charming, quaint room in the attic, where Scarlett had covered the walls with a mural of an enchanted forest.

“It’s an early wedding present,” she told the delighted Diana. “It’s been ages since I did any painting, so I really had fun with it. You don’t think Zack’ll be frightened, do you? It is a bit spooky in parts.”

“It’s magical,” enthused Diana. “He’ll love it. It’s like a dream. The whole house is.”

The guests who filed down the garden path into the huge tent at the bottom of the hillside thought so too.

“It’s a little piece of England, isn’t it?” Nancy was saying to Isobel, one of Scarlett’s model girlfriends from Notting Hill. “Don’t you feel like you’re back home?”

“Well, yes, apart from the fact it’s eighty degrees and blue skies in the middle of December,” laughed Isobel. “And the whole double wedding thing is frightfully Hollywood. I don’t think Scarlett’s mother is a bit amused.”

“No.” Nancy frowned. “Probably not. Then again, when is she ever?”

Caroline, clinging onto Hugo’s arm for dear life as he led her to her seat at the front of the tent, radiated icy disapproval in a vintage Hardy Amies suit and hat. Half of the guests seemed to have dressed for a barbeque, in cheap sundresses and flip-flops. Two of them, she noted with horror, were actually barefoot! The whole ghastly, hippie setup was a far cry from the church wedding at Drumfernly that she’d always dreamed of for her daughter. But then again Scarlett had always been willful, always
insisted
on going her own way. If only cursed Agnes hadn’t encouraged her, they wouldn’t be here, sharing their daughter’s wedding day with a gaggle of North London Jews and eccentric Californians. They’d be safely at home, ensconced in the sanity of Drumfernly.

Then again, as Hugo had gently reminded her, if it hadn’t been for Agnes, they wouldn’t have Drumfernly to go home to.

In an upstairs guest bedroom, Scarlett and Diana were alone together, helping one another with the last-minute adjustments to their veils.

“This is exquisite,” sighed Scarlett, pinning Diana’s 1930s pearl tiara firmly in place. “Is it your something old?”

“Old and borrowed. It’s my mother’s,” said Diana. So soon after Zack’s birth she’d lost every ounce of her baby weight and then some, and looked tiny and childlike in her fitted Monique Lhuillier gown. “Brogan very sweetly sent me a silver cross of
his
mother’s to be my something old, but Danny wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I should think not,” said Scarlett.

“He said Brogan was something old and should mind his own business,” giggled Diana. “I guess I see his point.”

Brogan had written her a long letter when her engagement was announced, congratulating her on that and on Zack’s birth. Danny had been dismissive and distrustful, understandably, but Diana could tell from his tone that this time Brogan had genuinely changed. Aidan Leach’s conviction for the murder of the journalist, Scarlett’s friend, had shaken him deeply, and he finally seemed to be taking a long, hard look at his own life. For Diana, knowing that she had Brogan’s blessing closed the circle of her happiness. And even Danny had softened toward him slightly when, a week after the baby was born, he finally agreed to make Diana a fair, even generous settlement.

“What about you?” Diana smiled at Scarlett, smoothing down her antique veil. “Did you do the whole borrowed and blue thing too?”

“Of course,” said Scarlett. “Just about everything’s old—the veil, the dress. Only my shoes are new.” She poked a bejeweled Jimmy Choo sandal out from under the hem of her grandmother’s lace wedding gown and wiggled her pedicured toes happily. “My engagement ring’s blue.”

“I
love
that sapphire,” enthused Diana.

“And I borrowed this from Nancy.” Hitching up her skirts, she revealed a sexy lace garter belt with appliquéd skulls and crossbones all over it. “She felt the outfit needed a touch of rock ’n’ roll.”

In the corner of the room, Zack gurgled happily on his sheepskin play mat.

“You and Jake’ll be next,” said Diana, catching Scarlett’s adoring glance in her son’s direction.

“One thing at a time,” laughed Scarlett. “Jake’s only just grown up himself, remember.”

Downstairs in the study, Danny did his best to calm his brother’s nerves.

“What if she backs out?” Pacing the tiny, wood-paneled room like a caged leopard, Jake looked as green as the newly irrigated farmhouse lawn. “What if she takes one look at me in there and comes to her senses?”

“She’s had ages to come to her senses,” said Danny, handing him a lit cigarette. “If she was going to do it, it would have happened by now.”

“Her family hate me,” said Jake, inhaling deeply.

Danny shrugged. “Diana’s family hate me. So what? You’re not marrying the parents.”

“But what if her dad gives her a last-minute pep talk?”

“He won’t.”

“Or one of her Lord Snooty ex-boyfriends stands up when they say ‘If anyone knows of any reason why these two may not be joined in holy matrimony,’ and she listens to him, and—”

“Jake.” Danny put a firm hand on his twin brother’s shoulder. “This isn’t a church service, remember? We don’t have that bit.”

Jake looked faintly mollified.

“Thank God for that. How long until kickoff?”

Danny consulted his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

Jake groaned. So long?

“I think I need a brandy. Make it a double.”

Most of the guests had filed into the tent by now and were milling around talking and laughing and enjoying the canapés and champagne before taking their seats.

Nancy had secured herself a good corner vantage point from which to observe the throng and was thoroughly enjoying a good bitch session with Perry.

“Look at Julia Brookstein’s skirt!” she whispered, knocking back another big slug of bubbly. “It’s so short you can see her lipo scars from here.”

“Mmm,” Perry agreed. “Greta Saltzman’s aging so much better. Although the caramel highlights were a mistake. What do you think they’re talking about?”

“The size of Jake’s cock, I expect, and how much they’re going to miss it,” said Nancy.

“D’you think they
will
miss it?” Perry asked archly. “Do you think our boy has fidelity in him?”

Nancy scowled. “He’s not my boy. And he’d damned well better have. If he plays around on Scarlett, I’ll personally sever the infamous Meyer meat with a rusty hacksaw, and that’s a promise.”

“Ouch!” Perry winced. “Must you be so graphic, sweetie? Ooo, who’s that?” His sharp eyes zeroed in on an impossibly chiseled man in a formal tuxedo jacket who was making his way to the front row.

“Some wannabe from Santa Monica Boulevard,” said Nancy. “Apparently Scarlett’s brother picked him up in a gay bar last night and brought him along.”

“Nooo!” Perry looked suitably shocked. “I thought the brother was out to lunch? And still stuck halfway in the closet?”

Nancy shrugged. “Me too. I guess LA is helping him find himself.”

On the other side of the tent, Minty Meyer adjusted her canary-yellow coatdress and matching hat and smiled through gritted teeth at Caroline Drummond Murray, who was staring resolutely in front of her, doing a good impression of someone waiting for root canal surgery.