The Wedding Wish (Summer Grooms Series) (6 page)

“Just think of all the school loans he’ll be repaying,”
Isabel quipped back.

“I guess you’ve got a point.” She accepted her refilled cup
with a nod and turned back to Isabel. “But he won’t be repaying them forever.”

“I’m not after Robert for the money.”

“You’re right. There’s the body too.”

Isabel felt herself blush. “Okay, I’ll admit to a bit of
physical attraction.”

“Only a bit?”

“More than a bit, and you know it.”

“Boy, wouldn’t I like to. Hey, does he have a brother?”

“Sorry. Only a sister. And she’s married.”

“Too bad. I was hoping his genes run in the family.”

“Want to get some wedding cake?” Isabel asked.

“Sure,” Cindy said as they made their way across the room.

As Cindy scarfed down her piece, Isabel neatly wrapped hers in
a napkin.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Saving mine for later.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“No. I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful of what?”

Isabel lowered her voice in a whisper. “Do you know that old
tradition? The one about sleeping with a piece of wedding cake under your
pillow?”

“Sounds more like a superstition to me.”

“You’re supposed to dream of the man you’re going to marry.”

“Get out. Have you done it before?”

“Only about a billion times. But that was before.”

“What do you mean,
before
?”

“Back in the day. When I was a kid. I guess you could say I
was something of a wedding-cake junkie.”

“No kidding.”

Isabel shook her head.

“But you never ate it?”

“Couldn’t. That would have been bad luck.”

“Now you tell me.” Cindy stared down at her empty plate and
frowned before looking back up. “So spill it. Who did you dream of? Movie
stars? Recording artists? The boy next door?”

“Yeah,
him
.”

“
Him
who?”

“Robert,” Isabel said in a whisper. “It was always Robert.”
She held up a hand in a pledge. “I swear. Only him. Even after he’d moved away.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. What did you have? Some sort of obsessive
disorder?”

Isabel swatted her. “Shut up. I was a kid. A kid with a
crush.”

Cindy eyed her astutely. “Something tells me you haven’t outgrown
it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Isabel said with a toss of her head.

Cindy studied her wrapped-up piece of wedding cake with
suspicion. “And what are your plans for that little slice of heaven?”

“I guess I want to see if I still dream of the same angel.”

“And if you don’t?”

Isabel shrugged and took another swig of punch. “It’s just a
superstition.”

Later that night, Isabel awoke with a gasp. Ramming her hand
under her pillow, she found the smashed piece of wedding cake sealed up in a
baggie still there. “Well, I’ll be…” she said with a happy grin, snuggling back
down in bed. The main difference between now and when she was twelve was that
this time she’d not just dreamt of a guy with gorgeous brown eyes meeting her
at the top of the aisle, she’d also envisioned the honeymoon. A very lovely
honeymoon, with lots of vivid detail.
And
that Statue-of-David body? Hmm. Yes. I would know it anywhere. In—or out
of —a tuxedo.

Chapter Six

Kip adjusted his hard hat as he stood outside the Kenilworth
Building on central campus. He and his capital improvements team were in the
midst of erecting a brand-new building to house the growing engineering school,
and boy, was it a winner, with all the bells and whistles the administration
could hope for. The wealthy alumni benefactors who’d funded this project were
bound to be pleased too. They were being given a hard-hat tour of the space
tomorrow, and Kip and his senior foreman, Buddy, were putting the rest of the
crew through the drill. Which areas were open for touring, and which—due
to safety concerns—were still strictly off limits.

Kip said a few words, then turned the floor over to Buddy to
address specific questions from the rest of the men. He glanced around,
thinking they were lucky to have found this premium location, smack dab between
the hospital complex and the high-rise parking garage. The old play house had
been torn down to make way. But that was okay. A bigger and more elegant one
had been constructed across campus by the arboretum, complete with an outdoor
amphitheater. That had come in handy this summer, with the school opening up
student performances of Shakespeare to the townsfolk in general. Kip pulled a
hanky from his pocket to wipe the building sweat on his brow. Eighty-five
degrees in the shade, and it was predicted to get warmer. Apparently, the
student body knew it and had dressed accordingly. He perused a group of passing
students in shorts and flip-flops as Buddy wrapped up his instructions. Things
were a lot less busy here during summer session, but there were still enough
kids around to keep the academic atmosphere at play. Kids and a few medical
professionals, he mused, as a bunch of young people in scrubs rounded the sidewalk
and headed his direction.

Buddy asked him a question, and he turned to address it,
believing he’d spotted a familiar face as he did. “That’s right,” he told his
foreman, “nobody in the interior courtyard this time. Not until the skylights
are all set and the scaffolding removed.”

Not twenty feet behind him, he heard a male voice say, “I
can’t believe it! You actually heard from Susan?”

But what caused him to set his jaw was the voice Kip heard
next. The voice belonging to none other than Isabel’s indomitable new
boyfriend. “I was starting to think she’d never call. You know what I’m saying?
Like maybe I’d dreamed it.”

“I hear ya, man,” the other one said. “But sometimes dreams
can
come true.”

Kip angled his hat and glanced casually over his shoulder.
It was Robert Reed all right. Talking one-on-one with some other guy as they
trailed behind a group of students.

“This one’s been a long time coming, that’s for sure,”
Robert said.

“So when are you going to see her?”

“As soon as she’ll let me, I guess.” Robert gave a happy
chuckle as his voice trailed away, and it was all Kip could do not to wheel
around and tackle him. Kip had played football in high school and hadn’t
forgotten any of those moves. Okay, so maybe he was a little wider in the gut,
but his shoulders were still as broad. And he sure as hell knew how to handle
somebody messing with his daughter. Man to man, that’s how.

“Kip?” Buddy asked, his face questioning. It was only then
that Kip realized he’d missed some sort of question. “What should I tell the
guys?”

“You can tell them…” Kip narrowed his eyes toward the
sidewalk as Robert and his pal strolled away. “Just wait until they have
daughters!” he said with an angry growl.

“Now, Kip,” Trudy said on the porch, “I want you to calm down.”
She’d just poured them a pitcher of lemonade, and at Kip’s insistence had also
retrieved a bottle of vodka. He dumped some in his pink glass and frowned.

“None it sounds good, Trudy, and you know it.”

“Goodness gracious, who knows what you overheard? You could
be mistaken.”

“About Robert being called by a woman named Susan, and him
having a burning itch to see her? A burning itch that…let me guess, here…he
likely wants Susan to scratch?”

“You’re getting carried away again. For heaven’s sakes,
Susan could be his sister!”

Kip set down his glass and stared at her. “The Reeds lived
beside us for years. You know very well Robert’s sister’s name is Teresa.”

She sighed and sat on the porch swing beside him. “Be that
as it may, what you have here is nothing more than idle speculation—over
a conversation you weren’t even supposed to have overheard.”

“Precisely what makes it so damning.”

“Or—on the other hand—totally misunderstood.”

Kip grunted and refilled his glass.

“I need you to promise me something.” Her face was lined
with concern. “Promise you won’t breathe a word of this to Isabel.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, darling,” she said calmly, “you don’t even know
for a fact what’s going on. Honestly? Do you want to get Isabel’s feelings all
stirred up over what could possibly be nothing?”

But if it was nothing, then why did Kip’s gut tell him that
is was
something
? Something not so
good… It was just as he’d suspected all along. Robert Reed wasn’t totally what
he said he was. Something was up with that boy, something that threatened to
upset his daughter. And Kip didn’t like it one bit.

“Isabel will be here any moment. She said she’s coming with
some good news. So let’s be the loving, supportive parents and wait and hear
what she has to say, why don’t we?”

He set his jaw.

“Kip…
Please
promise me, honey. Not a word.”

Just then, Isabel’s sweet voice called from the foyer. “Mom?
Dad? Anybody home?”

“We’re on the porch, dear!” Trudy called. She brought her
finger to her lips in a silencing motion, and Kip harrumphed.

A few seconds later, Isabel pressed through the kitchen’s
screen door. “I have great news,” she said, her face full of sunshine. “My work’s
been accepted at the opening!”

Trudy squealed and stood to hug her. “That’s wonderful, baby!”

Kip stood, offering a congratulatory hug as well. “Is this
the art show you were after? The big one at the Smith Center?”

“The biggest one in town,” Isabel said with a proud grin. “What’s
more, I get to curate the show!”

“What’s that mean?” Kip asked Trudy in a whisper.

“She gets to put it together,” Trudy answered back.

“That sounds very impressive,” Kip said, his chest welling
with pride. “We’re so proud of you, sweetheart. When is the special day?”

“Next Friday,” she said with a smile. “And it’s going to be
a really fancy affair. Cocktail dresses and wine. A caterer and everything.”

Trudy oohed and ahhed, apparently liking the sound of this.

“Of course, you’re both invited.”

“Will Robert be there?” Kip asked.

“Of course he will,” Trudy said, like that was the silliest
question.

Isabel’s dainty face drooped in a frown. “Actually,” she
said, “he won’t.”

“Why not?” Kip pressed.

“Oh, that’s right,” Trudy butted in. “Friday’s his night at
the lab.”

“It’s not that.” She met her parents’ expectant faces. “He’s
going out of town.”

“
Out of town?
” Kip’s
deep tenor rose a decibel, and Trudy laid a hand on his forearm.

“It seems he has some kind of business in New York.”

Kip opened his mouth to speak, and Trudy tightened the grip
of her fingers. Kip winced and zipped his lip. Totally against his better
judgment, but to avoid fireworks with his wife later.

“We’re very sorry about that, dear,” Trudy said. “We know
you must be disappointed.”

“Yeah,” Isabel answered. “I am. But I guess the timing couldn’t
be helped.”

Robert walked Isabel home after they’d shared a late lunch.
It was Thursday afternoon, and he’d be leaving for the airport soon. “I’m
really sorry about missing your opening. If there was any way in the world to
change the timing of my trip, I would.”

“But you can’t.”

“I’ve waited for this day forever. But, in all honesty, I
didn’t get to pick it.”

“I wish you could tell me where you’re going.”

“New York.”

“I meant, why.”

As they approached her building, Robert stopped, taking her
in his arms. “I hope you believe me when I say the
why
has a whole lot to do with you.”

“I want to believe,” she said, looking up at him.

“Then do.” He kissed her softly. “I’ve been through some stuff,
Isabel. But my whole world is about to change, and when it does, I want you in
it.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Because, Izzy.” He reached forward and thumbed her nose. “I
don’t want to jinx it. Don’t want to take any chance of things going wrong. But
when I turn them around, and everything’s right, you’ll be the first one to
know. I can promise you that.”

“When are you coming home?”

“Just as soon as I can,” he said, pulling her close.

Chapter Seven

Isabel was nervous but excited. Her big night had at long
last arrived. She’d managed to orchestrate this show highlighting an array of
graduate students’ work, while speaking to a unified theme about preserving
nature in the environment. The installations here were awe-inspiring and
innovative, and Isabel was pleased she’d played a part in pulling the disparate—yet
interesting—displays together. She hadn’t had much time to survey
students in the department and canvass entries relating to her chosen topic.
But it had all come together for her somehow. And the flash of inspiration had
left her breathless at its outcome.

“Fabulous work,” her favorite instructor told her. “Inspiring.”

Isabel beamed from ear to ear as appreciative arts patrons
flooded the main gallery. “Thanks for giving me this chance.”

“There’s no one who deserves it more than you,” Elizabeth
said. “You have promise, Isabel, and a keen eye. Not just as an artist but as a
curator too.”

Isabel hoped that was true. While she wanted to pursue her
own art, she also understood she’d need to put bread on the table. Curatorial
practices was not a bad field, and one to which she was establishing entrees from
the likes of Elizabeth and several of her contacts, to whom Elizabeth had been
kind enough to introduce her.

“Oh look!” she told her teacher. “There are my parents.”

“Why don’t you go on over and say hello?” Elizabeth urged.