at her uncharacteristically flippant response. “You can do what you want. But I’d think that someone of your intelligence would understand when a situation is untenable. As I stated before, given who I met in the parking lot, coming in to meet you in the restaurant would have been a problem.”
“You think you’re the only one who’s had a problem with the opposite sex? You don’t get to corner the market on bad situations, and I don’t have to engage you in friendly conversation.” The words hit their mark; evidenced by the frozen expression on Marissa’s face and the hurt look in her eyes. “Look, Marissa, I’m sorry to snap at you. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“And you obviously need a lot of room to think about all of what’s on there. I’ll leave you to it.” The click-clack of her heels sounded as she made quick work of the distance between the veranda’s edge and the door. Going after her was not an option. Not only would that capture every Drakes’ attention within a one-mile radius but he wouldn’t have a clue of what to say about his brutish behavior. Obviously, he’d said too much already.
Chapter 4
The female guests had been asked to wear designs in predominate shades of purple or blue, meant to complement the brilliant cobalt sky of a picture-perfect summer day. The men had been told to dress in casual suits, shades of tan, beige or ivory preferred. Wanting her wedding to be visually coordinated in these hues, the color black had been highly discouraged. Okay, banned. All two hundred guests had complied, causing the people bouquet to match the appropriately tinted flowers: tie-dyed dendrobium orchids, irises, anemones, hydrangea, roses and million star baby’s breath. The bridesmaids wore various shades of blue or tan while the maid of honor’s dress was a rich, deep navy, which matched the best man’s suit. The groomsmen carried on the tan/beige/ivory theme, a nod to the mounds surrounding the golf course and the stone pathways that could be seen from the hill. Kathleen Fitzpatrick’s granddaughter was the flower girl, a redheaded bundle of fluffy baby-blue organza. The maid of honor’s ivory-suited son bore the rings. Both Diamond and Jackson wore dazzling white, and they looked not only amazing, but ridiculously in love. The tearjerker had been when three generations of Drakes—Diamond’s father, Donald; her grandfather David, Jr.; and her great-grandfather, David, Sr.—walked her down the aisle. The comic relief had come when Papa Dee nudged Jackson, tilted his head toward Diamond and said, “That’s one feisty filly. Best watch yourself.” No matter that the loudly whispered suggestion was only heard by the first two rows. It became the most repeated statement of the day. Best watch yourself. The temperature had been a forgiving seventy-two degrees; the greenery of the vineyard and surrounding lawns had wrapped all of them in nature’s flawless tranquility.
It was, quite simply, the most beautiful wedding Marissa had ever witnessed. That she’d gotten to see it all from the position of bridesmaid, and given the fact that Diamond’s large wedding entourage had made her role one mostly of administrative support, Marissa should have been almost as happy as the bride. But she wasn’t. Even now, the smile she wore was as pasted on as the tail of the donkey at a six-year-old’s birthday party. The banter she’d kept up for Diamond’s sake as they rode in the pimped-out golf cart (white tulle, Swarovski-encrusted canopied top, spinning hubcaps—yes, on a golf cart) that whisked them from the gazebo-covered hilltop to the dress change awaiting in the main house, was more to stifle her own thoughts than to ensure Diamond’s continued good mood.
Bottom line? Marissa was masking an emotional odor that stank to high heavens. She was, simply stated, in a funk.
Anyone watching would have had to admit she was nothing if not a trouper, prattling on while working to not become engulfed in the endless yards of Diamond’s puffy chiffon, twenty-foot court train. It didn’t matter that Diamond and her brand-new husband, Jackson, were riding in the middle row of the six-seater golf cart, directly in front of her. The train’s presence was everywhere. “Your great-grandfather was so funny, and his more seriously delivered words of wisdom were amazing,” Marissa continued, maneuvering the train and talking as if her voice would disappear if the words stopped. “What he said about the long slow walk beating a fast sprint any day—” she chuckled “—everyone listening knew exactly what that meant! I can’t believe that he’s almost a hundred years old. He doesn’t look a day over eighty, seventy even.” Even in her frazzled state of mind she thought that saying someone looked eighty didn’t sound good, even though she’d just shaved twenty years off someone’s existence. “Well, what I meant to say was—”
“It’s all right, Marissa,” Diamond said, her hand in midair to ward off the oratorical flow. “And I don’t mean to be rude. I just need to gather my thoughts and…” The sentence died on Diamond’s lips as Jackson placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Of course.” Marissa looked between her boss and Diamond and for the first time noticed a strain on her face. Considering how flawless the ceremony had gone, and given the meticulous organization of the upcoming dinner and dance, what was there to be worried about? “I’m sorry, girl, going on and on like that.” Jackson gave an almost imperceptible nod, one that Marissa caught only because he’d been her employer for several years. His expression prompted her to ask the question that must have shown in her eyes. Her voice lowered to a near whisper as she looked at Diamond. “What’s wrong?” She noticed Diamond’s deep breath, and she could have sworn that tears also threatened. “What is it?” Marissa asked again with growing concern.
“We received some troubling news last night. One of our employees had emergency surgery and is in very critical condition.”
Marissa placed a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Diamond. Was it someone who works in the PR department?”
Diamond shook her head. “It’s Donovan’s assistant. Sharon has been with the company for twenty years. She’s like family to us all.”
Donovan’s assistant. Like family. That’s what was wrong last night. The reason he’d been quiet after the rehearsal dinner, and so withdrawn… No wonder he’d lashed out at her. I’m sorry to snap at you. I’ve got a lot on my mind.
By the time she’d rounded the golf cart to help Diamond and the maid of honor with the gargantuan train, four more carts had pulled up behind them. Her personal assistant for the day, a young college intern working in PR for the summer, jumped out of the cart and was at Diamond’s side in an instant. Jackson shooed him away as he turned, lifted Diamond from the cart and deftly placed her on the ground. The rest of the wedding entourage, including Diamond’s stylist, hairdresser and makeup artist, all began walking toward the building where Diamond would change into her second dress. It was a good thing that there were so many people to help, leaving any assistance needed from Marissa to be minimal at best. Because all she could think about was Donovan and how unfairly she’d treated him.
She’d been so quick to lump him into the jerk category with the rest of the men she’d recently encountered when nothing could have been further from the truth. The eldest Drake sibling was just as she’d first believed him to be: considerate and thoughtful, and now she could add caring. He’d been preoccupied with his concern for someone else, someone who wasn’t even a family member but a longtime employee. It’s how Jackson would have reacted, with fierce loyalty and unwavering focus. That’s because her boss, Jackson Wright, was a good man. Now, she was convinced that the same was true of Donovan Drake. And before the end of the day, come hell or high water, she was going to let him know how she felt.
Chapter 5
“That was a beautiful toast, brother,” Jackson said once Donovan had taken his seat and the applause had subsided. They were seated on a raised dais facing the wedding guests seated at round tables of ten.
“Meant every
