That’s what really mattered.
In two weeks his sister would be married, his mother would be happy and the intriguing wedding consultant would be out of his life. Two weeks. Only fourteen days. He’d make it. He’d survive as he always did.
Will stared at the pictures covering the walls and on the fireplace mantel. Most were photographs of the Armstrong family. Politicians, lawyers, doctors and corporate elite. Darlings of the paparazzi and one of the closest things to royalty America had. The most recent photo—resembling a family reunion with numerous aunts, uncles and cousins—had been taken in front of the San Montico royal palace. Last summer’s royal wedding had been the social event of the year and broadcast live all over the globe. His mother had gushed over the fairy-tale romance and asked Will to watch the wedding with her. He’d passed. Much to her regret then, and his now.
Losing Sara had made him realize how important his family was, but he still had taken his parents’ and sisters’ love for granted. No longer, which was one reason he was here.
Kelsey reappeared in the doorway. “If you’re bored, there are magazines in the ottoman. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Before he could say anything, she disappeared. Will opened the ottoman that doubled as a coffee table. Inside were stacks of magazines ranging from Bride to Vanity Fair, a few of the latest bestselling novels and a couple of photo albums.
Curious, Will removed one of the albums. Opening the cover, he saw it was more a scrapbook than a photo album. It contained everything from actual wedding pictures to newspaper and magazine clippings about various weddings.
As Will flipped through the pages, he recognized the extent of her clientele. But something else happened, too. A soothing warmth filled him. Kelsey had surprised him yet again. Realist or not, someone who put this much time and effort into preserving the memory of each wedding she coordinated had to be sentimental.
Each two-page spread contained photographs of the bride and groom and the reception and keepsakes from the wedding such as a ribbon or ceremony program. Everything was neatly matted on coordinating paper and she’d written captions under each item.
He continued paging through the book. Each wedding was different. From movie stars to political figures, Kelsey had managed to pull off spectacular and unique weddings for each of them. Some were enormous affairs with media coverage and security, but others appeared to be more intimate gatherings. That made him happy since that’s what his family was hoping for.
After he reached the end and put the album back in the ottoman, a satisfied smile formed on his lips. Taking Kelsey home was the right move. Someone so warm and fuzzy was what they all needed—correction, what his mother needed. And Faith, too.
Opening the next scrapbook, he expected to see more wedding memorabilia. He didn’t. Will turned one page, then another, and another. This book didn’t celebrate her clients’ marriages, but their divorces.
Will frowned. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Page upon page of clippings. Ugly accusations, tearful confessions, angry photographs. Her clientele was the kind to get as much press coverage with their divorces as with their weddings. In the upper corner of each page Kelsey had noted the years, sometimes only days, the marriage lasted. Will tried to reconcile the first book with the second. He couldn’t.
The first book showed how much she loved her job and the photographs and clippings reaffirmed her talent for designing weddings, but the second scrapbook was the exact opposite. He didn’t get it. Something didn’t add up. He placed the book in the ottoman and closed the lid.
Kelsey entered the room with one suitcase in her hand, another rolling behind her, and a bag on her shoulder. “I’m ready now.”
Will hesitated. Should he mention the scrapbooks? He was supposed to bring her home with him, but was it in his family’s best interest to put her in charge of Faith’s wedding? Now he wondered, after what he’d just seen. The divorce album rubbed him the wrong way, made him wonder if Kelsey had a hidden agenda or something. He felt as if he’d opened the cupboard of a health fanatic only to find a stash of junk food.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
A perfect segue, but something held him back. Was he reading too much into this? Maybe the divorce album was some kind of joke. Maybe he was too embarrassed to admit he’d peeked at her scrapbooks. Maybe he was looking for any excuse not to take her home with him and spend the next two weeks by her side.
“No.” His goal had been to get Kelsey to coordinate the wedding. It’s what his mother wanted. It’s what Faith had asked him to do. No sense changing course now despite his own reservations. Will rose from the couch. “Let’s go. Our plane is waiting for us.”
Talk about a bumpy flight. Another wave of turbulence shook the Learjet. Kelsey checked her seat belt for the zillionth time. Habit, she realized. Turbulence, she could handle. But Will Addison?
No matter which way she turned, she could see him, smell him, sense him. Talk about feeling claustrophobic. If only she had a parachute…
Kelsey didn’t understand what was going on. Okay, that wasn’t the entire truth. But the truth bothered her, made her feel lower than low. Not even worthy of being on the bottom of the food chain. Will might be Faith’s brother; he might even be married. But Kelsey was attracted to him, attracted to his looks and his smile and his easygoing manner.
And she hated herself for the way she felt.
She sunk into the luxurious leather seat and leaned her head back. Married might as well mean leprosy because in her book Will was untouchable, off limits, you name it. She would not be a catalyst to the breakup of a marriage. Kelsey would sooner gouge out her eyes than get involved with a married man. Which meant she had to ignore her attraction for Will Addison, had to ignore he was even a man.
She knew exactly what infidelity could do to a marriage, to a family. Her father had been the first to stray, but her mother had followed in his footsteps until all hell had broken loose. The accusations, the fighting, the tears. She and her brother, Cade, had been the ones to lose, the ones turned into pawns in a vicious winner-take-all custody battle.
Will shifted in his seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. His calf brushed hers and a burst of heat emanated from the point of contact.
Ignore it, she ordered herself. Something told her she would be having to ignore many things over the next two weeks.
“So how did you become a wedding consultant?” he asked.
Thank goodness. A safe topic. Business related even. Kelsey counted her lucky stars. “My parents divorced when I was nine. When it came time for them to marry others, they both asked for my brother’s and my input. I think it was their way of trying to make things easier on us. My brother couldn’t have cared less, but I got into it. Each time they remarried—”
“Each time?”
“My father’s been married eight times, my mother six, though she’s currently engaged to number seven,” Kelsey admitted. It wasn’t a big secret to anyone who knew anything about the Armstrongs. Many followed the happenings of America’s second most famous family. “Needless to say, I had lots of practice planning weddings.”
“How did you pick Beverly Hills to open your business?”
“When I was thirteen, my mother married a producer,
