Page 76 of Bronson

CHAPTER NINE

Paige

The rehearsal dinner has to be perfect.

I need to get to the restaurant early to be sure the staff has everything in place, the way I’ve ordered.

We’re hosting the event at Buon Cibo. The Italian restaurant where Bronson bogarted my date with Peter. Who happens to be coming to the wedding.

As a guest of Alice’s.

I can’t be more thrilled for her. After Bronson told me about that dark moment in his past, I’d been hoping, praying she would find love again.

And it looks like she has.

Just like me.

He came to Bachman’s the Saturday after Bronson botched our date. He was hoping for an explanation from me.

Instead, he got a very unfriendly greeting from Bronson, who happened to have his arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” I said.

Then, Alice appeared out of nowhere, brushing past me. Straight for Peter.

And none of us could mistake the smile that beamed on his face. But it seemed to catch Peter by surprise. He had, after all, come for me.

“Alice,” he said, reaching for her hand.

“Peter.”

They stood there much longer than natural, staring at one another with those grins on their faces, their hands pumping up and down in some weird mating-call-slash-handshake.

Alice had shown him the door. They had both stepped out onto the sidewalk.

She told me later, he’d asked a few questions about Bronson. She redirected the conversation to his teaching career. She said she found it adorable how his face lit up as soon as he began talking about his students.

They’d grabbed a coffee that afternoon. And he’d been coming back to the city every weekend since.

I rarely see Alice outside of work hours, she is so busy with Peter. And I’m so busy planning the wedding. It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought it would be.

It’s not the money—Bronson’s personal bank account is apparently bottomless, all legal, thanks to his knack for playing the stock market and making investments. The day after we became officially engaged, he handed me a red leather Hermes wallet, lined with platinum cards and stuffed with cash, telling me all the accounts linked to them were legit. I’ve been as frugal as a woman with my humble past and love of nice things could be. And he hasn’t uttered one word of complaint.

I’ve had plenty of help organizing, thanks to the Bachman Beauties. They’ve lovingly welcomed me into their clan. Of course they were a teensy bit reserved, skirting my questions and not offering up too much information on the ways of their secretive lifestyle. Mary assured me that once I’ve been initiated into the family that will all change. Apparently, the Beauties live for girl talk.

Sasha’s been surprisingly supportive. At first, she refused to even acknowledge my engagement to Bronson—she was too pissed off that I was tying the knot before her. After a little chat with Carter, she’s been nothing but kind and helpful.

Out of earshot of our fiancés, she even taught me a few tricks about laying down the law with your man. I’ve taken her advice, and Bronson is finally letting me do what I want while biting his tongue. Though he does get this pained look on his face when I boss him about. And he’s doing this funny thing with the palm of his hand, slapping it on his thigh whenever I tell him to do something.

He’ll get over it.

It’s not easy planning two weddings. First, we have the simple church ceremony. Everyone from home will be there, and all the Bachmans, to witness what promises to be a tear-jerking show. Then we take my family back to the home for a meal of soft foods and cake. The Bachmans will be waiting at the Village for the second reception—a rooftop evening of drinking and dancing.

Before all that can happen, we have to get through tonight.

Would I have chosen Buon Cibo for my—I mean, our—rehearsal dinner?

Of course not.