“He can go there by himself for all I care,” she muttered.
With a glance in the mirror, she confirmed what she thought. Her cheeks were blazing through her carefully applied makeup with the crimson heat of anger and embarrassment. How could Phillip have done this to her?
Her veil tangled in the leather-bound steering wheel. She struggled to free it without damaging the delicate vintage Dentelle de Calais lace and tulle that she’d carefully sewn onto Ruby’s pearl and diamond hair comb.
Through the church’s open door, Ariana could hear the organ player dutifully playing wedding music for a ceremony that would never happen. She rolled her eyes over the irony.
“Ariana, I can explain,” Phillip yelled. “Please, I need you.”
The only things Ariana needed were to feel the warm sun on her shoulders and a cold iced tea on her lips.
She turned the key in the ignition and stomped the clutch with her handcrafted high heels. She’d taken such care with her bridal outfit and accessories, but now she couldn’t wait to take it all off. How could she have missed all the signs in her relationship with Phillip?
Swiftly reversing out of the parking space, Ariana spotted their friends and Phillip’s parents gathering outside the modest church on Coldwater Canyon in Studio City. Many celebrities and regular folks had married at the Little Brown Church, a knotty-pine paneled church that predated most of the development in the area. An intimate wedding, she’d insisted.
Thank goodness.
Shock lined familiar faces outside the chapel. Phillip’s parents wore expressions of apology and embarrassment, which is what Phillip should have been feeling. Her great-aunt Ruby stood away from the others by the doorway, imperious as always in an extravagantly plumed hat that she’d probably worn in some film decades ago. Raising her manicured red nails to her matching lips, Ruby blew a kiss toward Ariana and smiled.
Only Aunt Ruby understands. In retrospect, Ariana should have listened to her. She could have saved herself this embarrassment.
Ariana slid the stick shift into gear and gunned the engine. At once, Phillip loomed before her, his arms outstretched. She slammed on the brakes. Her nearly-husband-to-be bounced off the hood.
“Ariana, for heaven’s sake, stop.” He pushed himself off the hood. “I’m here now. Let’s do this.”
Lifting herself in the seat, she jabbed her finger over the windshield. “You were late. You had second thoughts. You stayed out all night with some woman you met in a bar. Now you’re sure?”
“Come on, nothing happened.” Looking infuriatingly handsome in the tux she’d designed for him, Phillip spread his hands. “Lots of guys get cold feet at the last minute. It happens, babe.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t. You’re either in this relationship, or you’re not. And you gave me just enough time to think.”
Everything Phillip had to do was more important than anything in her life. A cocktail party he suddenly had to attend trumped an awards dinner where she was nominated for a prestigious costume design award. A romantic weekend she’d planned was canceled because he’d promised to play basketball with the guys on Saturday morning at Beverly Hills High School. She could go on, but what was the point?
He’d kept her waiting at the church for more than an hour because he couldn’t decide if he was ready to get married. No call, no text, nothing. His best man had admitted that Phillip hadn’t returned to the hotel before they left for the church.
“When did you last see him?” Ariana had demanded.
His best friend, who was so hungover his face was green, admitted Phillip had left with another woman.
Last night, as Ariana watched the clock for hours and repeatedly punched the redial button to his mobile phone, the truth had dawned on her.
And as she’d waited for Phillip today, she decided she didn’t want to be a bit player in his life. She wanted a real partner. Despite everyone else’s supposedly better judgment—her matron of honor, Phillip’s parents—Ariana was taking charge of her life.
Now, with one foot on the brake, Ariana slid the stick shift into neutral and revved the engine.
“Alright, alright.” Phillip held his hand. “Kid’s probably not even mine. I was doing you a favor, you know.”
“That’s it,” Ariana cried. She tugged off his gaudy ring and heaved it toward him. The weighty diamond tumbled across the hot asphalt, and Phillip dove after his investment.
He grabbed it and stood up, holding it up like a trophy before turning toward their guests and waving a finger beside his temple. Crazy woman.
Now he was going to spin this his way.
With her heart pounding, Ariana lurched forward in the car. As she wheeled from the lot, a gust of wind caught the veil she’d tossed into the vacant seat behind her. Billowing in the breeze, the veil took flight.
Cursing under her breath, Ariana whipped the car around to retrieve the veil. If it weren’t attached to a treasured piece of Ruby’s jewelry, she’d be careening down Coldwater Canyon right now.
Before Ariana could get to the veil, Ruby stepped forward and opened her arms. The tulle and lace tumbled into her arms.
Ariana pulled the car beside her aunt, who was wrangling the exquisite fabric and fluffing it like cotton candy. The plum feathers on her hat rustled in the breeze, and Ariana couldn’t help thinking that this looked like a scene from one of her aunt’s comedies.
“Don’t stare. Open the door.” Ruby inclined her head. “Or I can drive.”
Ariana dared not look back at the small crowd chattering behind her. “I wish you could. But it’s a stick shift.”
Ruby smirked. “What do you think I learned on, sweetheart? Let’s get you away from here.”
“But your ankle…and Stefano.”
“Relax, it’s not my clutch foot. And Stefano knows the way home. Andiamo, darling.”
“You’re on.” Ariana flung open the door to change places with her aunt.
After shoving the armful of bridal finery into Ariana’s arms, Ruby whipped off her plumed hat. “Here, put these in the boot.”
“Boot?”
“It’s an English car, so that’s only proper.” Ruby sighed. “The trunk, dear. And get on with it. That photographer you hired is trying to earn his wages. You don’t want to see this day immortalized, do you?”
Ariana opened the small trunk, which contained two small travel bags. Tossing Phillip’s designer luggage to the ground, she tucked in the veil and Ruby’s hat before sweeping herself into the passenger seat. As soon as Ariana slammed the door, Ruby squealed into traffic, leaving a trail of tire smoke and gaping guests.
Ariana slid down in the seat and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know whether to cry or scream or laugh.”
“Celebrate,” Ruby said, deftly changing lanes with a finesse that belied her age. “You’re free, and he definitely wasn’t worth it.”
“I know. But the baby…” Ariana breathed through the panic curling in her chest.
“We’ll figure it out.” Ruby set her jaw and shifted gears.
Ariana knew her aunt had performed driving stunts in a film years ago, but seeing her whip them away from the church was impressive—even for someone half her age. “How’d you know Phillip was wrong for me, Aunt Ruby?”