Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel (21 page)

“I hear ya.” He held up his wrench and sighed. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. And the real reason I asked if you put your business first was because I’m tired of doing that.” My words came with more passion now. “I want my life to be about God first. And then the people he’s put in my path. And then, somewhere down the line, the business.”

“I totally agree with that, Hannah. And I think we would hold each other accountable, don’t you?”

I nodded as I thought it through. “So, you’re serious?” I asked. “Because if we merge forces, there’s no turning back. Not if we get mad at each other. Not if one of us has a bad day. Not if one of us outshines the other.”

“Hey, I’m counting on you outshining me.” He grinned. “Won’t hurt my feelings a bit.”

“I doubt that.” I slipped into his outstretched arms and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, overwhelmed by the feelings of peace that enveloped me. So much for the so-called feuding between the McDermotts and the Kincaids. We’d put an end to that tall tale once and for all.

“Want to talk about all of this over a pizza?” He flashed a boyish smile. “I’m starved.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

We got into his car and headed to Parma John’s, and my phone beeped. I glanced down to see that a message had come through.

“Anything important?” Drew asked.

“Not sure.” I opened it, and my heart flew to my throat as I read the note from Jacquie Goldfarb.

“Everything okay over there?” Drew looked concerned.

“Um, yeah.” I closed the phone and leaned back against the seat, my thoughts in a whirl.

Oh. Help.

“So . . .”

“Not sure you would believe me.”

“Try me.” Drew’s brow creased, and I could read the concern in his eyes.

“It’s Jacquie Goldfarb,” I whispered. “She’s coming back to Galveston for Dickens on the Strand, and she wants to see me.”

May the road rise to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face.

May the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again,

May the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.

Irish blessing

A
girl never forgets two things: the day she started her period for the first time, and the day she met the love of her life. In my case, adding a third life-changing event was unavoidable. The day I met Brock Benson in person.

I’d prepped for this, of course. Had rehearsed what I’d say when introduced. Practiced the angles I’d use to shoot his photos, based on internet pictures I’d found of him. All of this I’d done. But somewhere along the way I’d forgotten
to remember that he was just an ordinary guy. Well, maybe not ordinary like my predictable dad, but ordinary in his own Hollywood-esque way. Just a regular guy, according to my awesome and irresistible Drew—who, it turned out, was anything
but
a regular guy.

Bella invited us to her place to meet Brock a couple of hours before the parade began on the first Saturday in December. Drew did the driving, what with me being so nervous and all.

“You okay over there?” He glanced at me from behind the wheel as I touched up my mascara.

“Hmm?” I giggled. “Oh, um, yeah.” Unfortunately, I lost control of the mascara wand at about that time and left a big smudge on my right cheek.

Drew rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if I should be jealous or just very, very aware.”

“Aware?” I reached for a tissue and did my best to remove the mascara, but it didn’t want to budge.

“That you’re twitterpated.”

“Who taught you that word?” I looked away from the mirror and straight at him.

“Who do you think?” He wrinkled his nose and pointed at my face. “Oh, and you’ve got a little something right there.”

“I know, I know.” More swiping continued until I left a red patch under my eye. Black and red. Great combo. Now it looked like I’d been punched. “Well, I’m not twitterpated. I guess you could just say I’m starstruck. I’ve been a fan of Brock’s ever since . . .” Visions of his earlier pirate movies flooded over me. And his most recent episode in
Stars Collide
. And that gorgeous, graceful Viennese waltz on
Dancing with the Stars
. “Well, for a while.” A lingering sigh escaped.

“He’s married, you know.”

I slugged Drew in the arm. “I know. Don’t be silly. I don’t
like him like that. I just . . .” Another deep, lingering sigh. “Admire him.”

“From afar.”

“Only, not so far today.” I giggled and gave my reflection another glance. “Because I’m going to get to meet him in person.”

“Looking like you just came out of the ring after facing Muhammad Ali.”

“That bad, huh?” I groaned and wiped the mascara smudge with my tissue once more.

“Nah. Just kidding. It’s looking better by the minute.”

He turned his attention back to the road and began to whistle a little ditty. It took me a minute to recognize the theme song to
Stars Collide
. This reminded me of Sierra Caswell. If everything went as planned, I would meet her today as well. And again tonight at her wedding rehearsal. This would be a day for the record books, for sure.

By the time we arrived at Bella’s house, Mama had texted me seven times, Scarlet nine. I had promised both that I would do my best to arrange a private audience with Brock, but I couldn’t be sure that would actually happen. Unless Bella intervened, of course. Then again, she was already doing me a favor by inviting me over to meet him.

She and D.J. met us on the veranda of the Rossi home, children in tow. The baby’s face lit up the moment she saw me, so Bella placed her into my outstretched arms. Drew knelt down and scooped up Tres, then began to wrestle with him.

Before long they were laughing so hard that Bella put a finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t want my family to know what we’re up to out here.”

“What do you mean?” Drew rose and gave her a curious look.

“Well, they know something’s stirring, but they aren’t sure what. I just told Rosa to make an extra-special breakfast because we’re having company. She has no idea who or she would’ve flipped.”

“No way. You kept it a secret all this time?”

“I can’t believe it, but I did. Nobody around here seems to read the paper or they would’ve known.”

D.J. chuckled. “I nearly blew it for her last night. Said something about Brock’s scores on
Dancing with the Stars
and how his travels might affect his ability to perform well this coming Monday night.”

“Anyway, I don’t think anyone suspects it’s Brock coming.” Bella slipped her arm through D.J.’s and grinned. “They just know we’ve got a surprise for them.”

I’d just opened my mouth to say, “When is he going to get here?” when a car pulled up in the drive. I watched in rapt awe as Brock Benson—
ooh-la-la!—
emerged from the driver’s side, then walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. The prettiest blonde stepped out, petite and loaded with energy. She came bounding our way and threw her arms around Bella’s neck.

“Bella!” The young woman let out a squeal, which frightened the baby, who chose that very moment to spit up all over my new teal blouse. Gag me.

Of course, Brock picked that very moment to join us on the veranda. I’d prepped myself for seeing that gorgeous face up close, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the real deal. The man was
g-g-gorgeous
. And taller than I’d expected too.

I half expected him to turn his nose up at me, what with the mess the baby had made of my blouse, but he did not. Instead, he took little Rosie from my arms and began to tickle
her until she cooed with delight. Go figure. Some folks just had the magic touch.

While I used an old tissue from my purse to clean my blouse, Bella made quick introductions. With my heart in my throat, I greeted Brock and his lovely bride, Erin. After a broad-smiled hello, Brock turned to Drew for a handshake. Drew gave me a funny look and pointed at my shirt. Only then did I realize I’d used the mascara-covered tissue to dab away the baby spit-up. Perfect. Now I had a black eye and a gooey blouse with weird smudges on it.

The front door flew open and Rosa came out onto the veranda, broom in hand. She waved it madly and spouted several lines in Italian.

“Don’t strike! I didn’t do anything!” Brock put his hands up in the air.

Rosa tossed the broom across the railing and into the yard and sprinted—like a much younger woman, I should add—toward him, planting kisses all over his cheeks. She then turned to Erin, giving her nearly as many kisses.

At this point, the entire Rossi clan spilled out from the house to join us. The noise rose to a deafening level, and I decided to reach for my camera and snap a few photos for posterity’s sake. Hopefully Brock would be okay with it. He probably got enough of that from the paparazzi. But he didn’t seem to mind, so I kept on, catching a great shot of him with Rosie, one sure to melt her mama’s heart.

Bella loaned me a clean blouse, and then we all spent the next hour eating more food than should be allowed by law and talking about the upcoming day—both the Dickens event and tonight’s wedding rehearsal.

I secretly worried that the paparazzi would show up at the wedding facility this evening, especially if they got wind of
the fact that Sierra was already tucked away at Bella and D.J.’s place, but I did my best to press those fears away as I nibbled on my breakfast. Not that I could eat, mind you. What girl could actually eat in the presence of Brock Benson, megastar?

Turned out, as Bella said, he was a pretty regular guy. A guy who really liked Rosa’s cooking, from the looks of things. He scarfed down a huge breakfast, then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach.

I wanted to say so many things—to compliment him on his dancing, for one, and to tell him how much I loved his character on
Stars Collide
. Still, Brock didn’t appear to be the sort to talk about himself. Most of his conversation was about his after-school facility for children and on how cute Bella’s babies were. Go figure.

By the time we wrapped up breakfast, I felt a little foolish for being so starstruck. Drew asked me to help him take photographs of the parade, so we stopped by my studio to grab a few more things. By the time we got to the parade site, my attention had shifted back to where it probably should have been all along—on Drew.

“Bless you for that,” I whispered as we worked our way through the crowd to the spot where the parade would kick off.

“For what?” he asked.

I gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “For letting me get away with acting so silly. Brock is a great guy, no doubt about it. But I’ve already got the greatest one in the world.”

Drew stopped in his tracks and turned to face me, a smile lighting his face. “Thank you.” In spite of the crowd, he swept me into his arms and gave me a kiss sure to convince me that I needed to look no further for love. Saints preserve us, could that boy make me swoon, or what?

“When this weekend is over, we’re going to focus on the two of us,” he whispered. “Okay?”

“Of course.” That idea sent a little tingle down my spine. Seemed like I spent a lot of time tingling these days.

We found the Rossi family a few minutes later and settled into our places at the street’s edge, hoping to get some great shots of Brock leading the parade. Moments later my parents arrived, and my mother’s nerves were clearly frayed in anticipation, from her wild-eyed look and the strange job she’d done buttoning her shirt.

“Have I missed Brock?” she asked.

“No.” I pointed to her buttons, suddenly realizing that I wasn’t the only one in the family who got a little discombobulated when stressed. “He should be coming soon, though.”

Mama glanced down and gasped, then started fixing her buttons.

“You like my costume?” My father pointed to his crazy getup, and I laughed.

“I can’t believe they let you in here dressed like a leprechaun.”

“Hey, leprechauns were around during the Victorian era.” He started to tell a story about Grandpa Aengus, but a cheer from the crowd surrounding us drowned him out.

Seconds later my sister arrived with her husband. I gave Deidre a hug and introduced her to the others, then watched as Brock—now dressed à la Dickens, complete with top hat, Victorian suit, and cane—climbed aboard the horse-drawn carriage that would lead the parade. The women, including Mama and my little sister, screamed so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. Brock looked our way and flashed a smile, then gave a little wave. Ordinarily, my heart would’ve skittered into my throat, but I was too busy looking at Drew
to make sure he caught the shot on his camera. He had a better zoom than I did.

The music kicked off just as Corinne arrived, breathless and red-cheeked. She squeezed in next to my mother, who grabbed her hand and released a girlish giggle. Behind her came the three Splendora sisters, Twila leading the pack. The women had apparently taken the “come in costume” part seriously. Surely they would win the prize for their over-the-top regalia.

The horses let out a loud whinny as they pulled Brock’s carriage forward. Brock waved to those who’d gathered along the sides of the street, his face all smiles as he noticed Twila, Bonnie Sue, and Jolene. All around me, girls let out squeals in abundance. Well, if you could call the women in our little group
girls
. They yelled loudest of all. I glanced at Erin to see how she was taking this. Not too badly, from the looks of things. She hollered right alongside them.

I didn’t whoop or holler—snapping photos was the order of the day. Thank goodness Brock didn’t care if I shot them from the front, back, side, or otherwise. So when I happened to catch a really goofy moment of him high-fiving a juggler, I snapped it.

Scarlet arrived wearing her Let Them Eat Cake apron atop a weird hot pink and lime green Victorian dress. Typical colorful Scarlet. She scooted into the spot behind me just as Brock’s float passed by.

“Oh, I can’t believe I missed it!” She groaned. “I was busy baking samples for you to give Brock Benson. Left them at your studio. Hope you don’t mind that I used the key you gave me awhile back.”

“Not a bit.” Though I rather doubted I’d be going to the studio anytime soon, and I suspected Brock Benson would never taste those cake samples. Still, I would help spread the
word about her business, no problem. When things slowed down, anyway. Right now I had bigger fish to fry. Er, bigger cakes to bake.

As the parade moved forward, I got as many photos as I could of the various carriages and floats as they passed by me. The Victorian costumes took my breath away.

Turning, I caught a glimpse of Drew in my lens. I saw the sparkle in his expression, the pure God-breathed joy radiating from his bright eyes, the zeal for life. I began to click shot after shot, knowing that he didn’t realize I was catching him in action.

As I paused to glance at one of the photos, the truth poured over me like water rushing over the shore. Brock Benson, awesome as he might be, couldn’t hold a candle to the amazing, godly man in the photo I now stared at. Brock might be a superstar—he might even be a hot, hunky superstar—but he wasn’t the guy for me. No, to find the man God had dropped down from heaven just for me, I needed to look no further than three feet to my right.