Page 68 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

“Yes, and I’d like to speak with you. Can you come to the parking lot?”

“I…um…I’m really busy. With the bride.”

“You mean Rochelle?”

He heard her suck in a breath and sigh it out. “No. I had to put out a fire at my other wedding. Evie and I swapped.”

“You mean to tell me that Miss McAlister is managing the most important wedding of my life? After Ifired her?”

Evie winced at his raised tone.

“Yes,” Mary said, “she is. I needed her skills. She’s come through for us today. Everything is on track.”

“It is not on track if she’s here and Miss Richardson’s wedding coordinator isn’t. I need you here. Now.”

Suddenly, Michael was in his face. “Don’t order my sister around like that.”

Alex glared up at the bigger man. “She is working for me, Michael. I can issue her orders as I would any other employee.”

His face went red. “Any other?—”

“Hand the phone to Michael, please,” Mary said, her voice low.

He did and narrowed his eyes as Michael said a few “okays,” then handed the phone to Evie. Alex stood with his hands on his hips, sweating in his suit. The top of his head was going to blow off any minute. Mary had let him down and was running the Richardson affair like someone’s backyard tent wedding. Even though she knew how important it was to him. It only proved he was wrong to think he could rely on anyone besides himself.

Evie disconnected the call and handed the phone back to him. “She’s on her way. Come on, Michael.” She turned toward the hotel.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alex said, jogging to get between her and his building.

“Until Mary gets here, you need a wedding coordinator. The entertainment is scheduled to start in twelve minutes. Unless you want to delay?”

Fuck his life. She knew he hated anything to run late. He had to wrest back control. “Not him. I can’t have a grease monkey walking into my lobby.”

Evie stuck her nose in the air. “We’re going in through the service entrance. This way, Michael.” She strode off, her heels clicking on the pavement.

Twelve minutes? He had to get going if he wanted to check that Ray Richardson hadn’t noticed his daughter’s wedding going to shit. And talk him down if he had.

At the back of the ballroom they were using for the ceremony, the stage was set up for the fire dancers. Good. And the large video screens he’d added to the setup yesterday stood in front of the red-curtained windows. They extended along both walls to the other end of the room, where the ceremony would take place. No one would miss a moment of this showcase for the La Villa brand.

Black-suited servers passed hors d’oeuvres. That was Mary’s uninspired idea. His addition to the cocktail hour stood out: the walking bar. One of the most attractive athletes in La Villa’s gladiator show had agreed to move through the crowd inside a rolling metal rack shaped like a chariot. Guests could admire his muscles as they plucked a glass of champagne from the rack. In his short tunic and leather spaulders, he seemed popular with the female guests.

Alex breathed out a relieved sigh. After the shit week he’d had, something was finally going to plan. Even if Mary herself wasn’t here.

He scanned the room until he found Ray Richardson talking to Rohaan’s father, Omar. Alex made his way to his favorite bartender’s setup.

“Evening, Mr. Villa,” Elton said, already reaching under the bar.

“Make it two, please, Elton. And whatever the father of the groom is drinking.”

Elton carefully poured out two glasses of Macallan. As he filled another glass with club soda, Alex asked, “How’s the event so far?”

“Folks seem to be having a good time. And I’m looking forward to the”—he lowered his voice as he returned the bottle of scotch to its hiding place—“surprise entertainment. Though I’m glad my bar is way over here.” The bartender chuckled.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Alex said.

“If you say so, boss. I just want to keep fire far away from all these high-proof spirits. Cheers.”

Alex gathered the three glasses and made his way to Ray and Omar.

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