Million Dollar Christmas Bride - Holly Rayner Page 0,50

say they could attend. Most had work or family obligations and had expressed sorrow for missing the celebration.

Some, like Sandy and Nicky, would be at the ceremony. Bianca’s mom was going to be there too, with a nurse who would help her get around. Bianca had told her mother over and over again that her presence wasn’t really necessary—Helen knew it was a fake ceremony, after all. But Helen had insisted that she wanted to be there. “Fake or not, I want to show my support,” she’d said.

None of them were at the rehearsal dinner. That’s just fine by me, Bianca thought, as she weathered the storm of small talk and banter that swirled around her. This is a fake rehearsal for a fake wedding.

I just have to get through tonight and tomorrow… that’s all.

After an hour, she excused herself. The dinner was beginning to wrap up, and the servers were clearing dishes. Bianca figured no one would miss her if she just slipped outside to the restaurant’s back patio for a minute while coffee and sweets were brought out.

The air had a chilly nip to it, and she regretted the fact that she didn’t have her jacket with her as she moved toward the edge of the outdoor seating area. A wall, draped in ivy, created a border that separated the area from an adjacent patio that belonged to a private residence. She looked out, past the wall, into the darkness.

The sound of footsteps made her turn quickly. Danielle was crossing the patio, her heels clicking against the stones. She carried a wine glass in one hand, and with the other she rummaged through her purse.

“Oh, tell me I have some cigarettes in here,” she muttered. “Come on.” Her eyes flashed behind her glasses as she extracted her hand. A little white and gold box of smokes glinted in the glow of the outdoor lighting. “Success!” she said. She tapped one out. “You want one?”

“No, thank you,” Bianca said. “I don’t smoke.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

“Clearing my head,” Bianca said as she rubbed her arms. “I forgot my jacket inside. I’d better go—”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Danielle said. “You stay out here and talk to me. You’re going to become part of my family tomorrow, you know? You and I better get to know each other.” She flicked a lighter, touched it to the tip of her cigarette, and inhaled. As she exhaled, a puff of gray wafted out into the night air.

Bianca looked out to the surrounding area again. Nausea gripped her stomach. She’d never been good at lying, and she could sense that Danielle was an intelligent woman. What if she senses something is off? Bianca worried.

She felt grateful for the cover of darkness. She and Danielle were each partly obscured by shadows. The lights above were dim. That should help my case, Bianca thought.

She tried to make her expression look serene as she said, “Yes, I guess I’ll become your sister-in-law tomorrow.”

“I knew it would happen one of these days,” Danielle said. “Stan—that’s my husband, Stan Kilburn. Have you heard of him?”

Bianca shook her head.

“Well, he’s a big deal in the film industry. Executive producer. Very intelligent man—that’s why I mention it. He’s right about almost everything. Anyway, he kept saying that Jackson would never settle down. But I knew Stan, for once, had it wrong.”

Bianca wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she kept quiet as Danielle took another puff of her cigarette.

“See,” Danielle said, “I knew Jackson would fall head over heels in love one of these days. I just didn’t know when.”

Bianca felt a lump form in her throat. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

That didn’t seem to matter. Danielle was more than happy to listen to the sound of her own voice. “I kept telling my husband—just wait for it. One of these days he’s going to fall for a really good person. But Stan said it wasn’t going to happen. We kept meeting these women that Jackson would have around… ugh.” She made a sound of disgust. “They were just awful. Clingy… needy… and obsessed with my brother.”

Danielle rolled her eyes. “They acted sweet, but we could all see past that. What they were really after, I’m pretty sure, was his money.” She stopped speaking and reached down to adjust her heel. It was a sling-back pump, and one of the straps was twisted. “I hate heels, don’t you?” Danielle quipped.

Bianca couldn’t find words. She felt a sinking