The Wedding Song (11 page)

He did this most mornings since Whitney had left, getting ideas down as quickly as they came, recording demo tracks to take to the Rose Chalet, where he’d been regularly getting together after hours with the old friends who formed his new band to bring the songs to life.

After years of missing the joy of creating music, Tyce wanted more of it. But it was about more than that.

Music was helping to fill the hole in his heart that Whitney’s absence had left behind.

His cell phone rang, and like every time it buzzed for the past four months, he hoped it was Whitney. Calling to tell him she missed him. Calling to tell him she wished he was with her. Maybe even calling to finally say “I love you.”

When he saw it was Rose, he worked to push away his disappointment, and instead focused his attention on how great his boss had been about his return to songwriting. Rather than being angry with him for not putting the chalet at the center of his world, she was supporting him as a true friend. Not only by letting him use the chalet as a rehearsal space, but by letting him throw his album release party there, as well.

“Hi, Tyce, I just wanted to go over the final arrangements for your show. Julie said that she’s got the food taken care of, Phoebe will be running the invite list, RJ has reinforced the stage, and Anne said she’s been working on your band members’ looks. Is there anything else you need from me?”

Tyce grinned at the very sweet question from his brilliant and focused boss. He’d run the music at the Rose Chalet for so long that the whole place was set up exactly the way he wanted it. Still, he had to tease her with, “You do realize that most musicians would come up with totally outrageous demands at this point?”

“As you well know, I will not be supplying you with groupies, television sets to throw out of windows, or bowls of M&Ms with the brown ones taken out.” Her amusement came through loud and clear.

“Seriously, Rose, everything’s perfect. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“You’ve always been a great friend, Tyce,” she said simply. “To all of us.”

No matter where music took him, he knew he’d be friends with Rose and the rest of the chalet crew for life.

“Actually, Tyce, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Don’t worry,” he teased, “I’m not going to set off fireworks from the stage.”

“Definitely don’t do that!” she agreed with a laugh, before explaining, “I have another client hoping for a special song for his wedding. I tried suggesting an arrangement, because I know that’s what you did with the last one, but—”

“Tell him yes.”

“Yes? Just like that?” She was clearly surprised. “But I thought—”

“Things are different now. I don’t think writing a song is going to be a problem for me anymore,” he said with a smile.

When he slipped the phone back into his pocket, Milo ran over to him, ready for his morning walk. Tyce took him out, walking over to the coffee shop the way he did every morning now. So regularly that the staff put out a water bowl just for Milo.

Things
were
different now. After losing Whitney again, he'd tapped into such a deep well of emotion—one he refused to run from ever again—that the songs had been coming fast and furious for the past four months. He’d written so many songs that he’d even passed a few he couldn't use for himself on to acquaintances in the recording industry. Amazingly, his songwriting credit was already on a couple of minor indie hits. Tonight, there would almost certainly be a few of the more important music journalists in the area attending his launch party.

The question was, would the one woman who mattered most of all be there?

Milo tugged on his leash as they rounded the corner to the coffee shop and Tyce knew Sebastian must have arrived. Whitney’s brother didn’t meet them every morning, but when he did, he always played with the little dog.

The teenager had filled out over the past couple of months and was more confident. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been talking about a girl at school he liked, but he was worried because they ran with different crowds. Tyce had advised him not to worry about their differences and just ask her out to see if they clicked.

After all, he and Whitney had seemed so different on the surface. But they’d been perfect together anyway.

“Hey, Sebastian, are you looking forward to the show?”

Whitney’s brother nodded, crouching to pet Milo. “It’s going to be great.”

“You aren’t nervous?” Tyce asked, with a smile.

“Of course not,” Sebastian said, right on cue. “You?”

Tyce dutifully shook his head. Then they both laughed. “We are
such
bad liars.” He had to know, “Who do you have coming?”

“Well, there’s my parents, and Aunt Marge—”

“Tell her we’re not playing anything from Gone With the Wind,” Tyce interrupted.

“I already did. Oh, and Michelle said she would come too.”

“This is the girl you were going to ask out? The one from your math class?”

Sebastian nodded. “She didn’t seem as impressed by the whole guitar thing as I thought she’d be, but she said yes anyway.”

“That’s good,” Tyce said.

“I guess.”

“It means she’s actually into you, not just excited that you’re in a band. And, trust me, sometimes having a little patience is the best way to go with things.”

Or a lot of patience, in his case.

“Oh, and I also sent a copy of the CD over to Whitney,” Sebastian said with a careful look at Tyce, “but I doubt she’ll be able to come all the way from Colorado.”

* * *

Trying to take a cat on an airplane at short notice was anything but straightforward.

“As I’m sure you know, ma’am,” Steve, the manager at the check in desk, said, “animals often get quite distressed in flight and—”

“Does Clementine look distressed to you?” Whitney said, cutting him off as she held up the travel bag, where her cat was currently fast asleep. She needed to get to San Francisco, she wasn’t about to leave Clementine in the middle of an airport, and she would do whatever it took to get both of them on a plane in time.

“Actually,” Steve said, “because we didn’t receive notification that there would be an animal on board, the hold isn’t pressurized, so—”

“So Clementine can’t go down there unless you’re expecting her to hold her breath for upwards of a thousand miles,” Whitney said in a voice that vibrated with her attempt at remaining patient. “I have copies of the paperwork where I notified the airline right here.”

She fished out printouts of the relevant screens from inside her jacket. If running the family business had taught her one thing, it was to always have copies of everything. She put them down in front of the check-in desk manager, who looked at them dismissively.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding anything but sorry, “but I will have to abide by what I see in our system. And there is definitely nothing here about a cat.”

Ordinarily, Whitney wouldn’t have done what she was about to do, but she couldn’t afford to miss this flight. She just couldn’t.

It wouldn’t be fair to Sebastian.

Sure,
a small voice in the back of her head said.
He’s the only person you’re thinking about.

She took out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts list until she found the number for her secretary. Technically, Olivia was Annette’s secretary now, and Whitney still got occasional emails from each of them complaining about the other, but she hoped that Olivia would still feel enough loyalty towards her to help her out. After all, aside from leaving her with her cousin, she thought she’d been a pretty good boss.

“Olivia, hi, it’s me. Sorry to call you up out of the blue like this. Are you at the office? Annette has you doing
what
? Look, could I ask a favor? We did business with a small airline a while back. I need the private number for Guy Jupp. You have it? That’s great. Thanks.”

Whitney punched in the number while watching Steve-the-manager’s face. He seemed to be caught between a mixture of disbelief, annoyance, and continued arrogance, secure in his position behind his desk.

“Hi, Guy,” Whitney said, “This is Whitney Banning. I don’t know if you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you! That deal we did with you on transport was one of the best things to happen to my business, and I had a great time when you and Kenneth came over for dinner. How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Whitney assured him. “I hate to do this, but I’m having a problem getting on one of your flights.”

“If it’s full it might be tricky—”

“It isn’t full. I actually have a ticket. It’s just that they won’t let me take my cat, Clementine, on board, even though I have the paperwork.” She hadn’t forgotten that when she and Kenneth had gone for dinner at Guy’s house, there had been three large Persian cats sprawled all over the furniture.

“Could you please hand me over to the representative you’ve been speaking with, Whitney?”

She smiled as she took the phone from her ear, mostly because Steve the manager was still looking at her like she was crazy. “It’s for you.”

“Mr. Jupp?” The man’s face paled considerably. “That’s right, sir.” Steve looked down at the paper with Whitney’s flight details. “Yes, I’m very sorry. I understand. Yes, of course, sir. Absolutely.” He handed her phone back. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Ms. Banning. If you’d like to go through to the first class departure lounge, we’ll call you when your flight is ready to board. In the meantime, Mr. Jupp has instructed me that if you want anything, you only have to say the word.”

“Thank you, Steve.” She picked up Clementine and carried her over to the waiting area just as another woman walked into the lounge, moving to sit next to her.

The woman's stark white hair was elegantly cut, while the handbag she placed next to her was designer.
“
Well done on handling the dictator at check in,” the newcomer said. She extended a hand. “I’m Yvette Markston.”

Whitney knew that name, even if she’d never met the woman personally. “Whitney Banning.”

“I know who you are. You look just like Marge did at your age.”

“You know my aunt?”

“We meet occasionally. Charity events, usually. She speaks very highly of you. So tell me, what is so important that it has you pulling out the stops to get onto the plane?”

“My brother is playing in a band and they’re having the release party for their album. I haven’t seen him for months and I want to surprise him.”

“Have you been doing business in Colorado?”

“No,” Whitney said, slightly defensively, “I’m not working for Banning Incorporated anymore. I’ve been training to be a veterinarian. Colorado has one of the best schools in the country for horses. And,” she said, unable to stop the words from coming, “this way there are no distractions. And no one—” She cut herself off. “I mean, nothing to keep me from following my dream.”

“Ah, distractions.” Yvette’s lips curved up into a small smile. “I used to have my fair share of ‘distractions’ when I was a beautiful young girl like you.” She raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. “What’s his name?”

“I’m not with anyone,” Whitney said quickly.

Too quickly.

“No?”

But it wasn’t true. She and Tyce hadn’t made any promises to each other, but he was still there with her, in her heart. The same way he always had been, right from their first night together five years ago.

“I left him to find out what it was I really wanted,” she finally admitted.

“And do you have an answer?”

“Sometimes I think I do,” Whitney said in a soft voice. “But then, I don’t. All I know is that I miss him. Terribly.”

The other woman patted her arm. “Just look at that aunt of yours. A brand new husband she adores, a thriving business, and still she has time for her friends and for the causes that she believes in. Do you think she feels she has to choose?” Yvette didn’t wait for her answer. “There is little worse in life than regrets. If you know what you want, reach out for it. Fight for it, whether it’s your family, or your choice of career, or love.”

“And if I don’t know what I want?” Whitney asked.

“Then work it out.” It was a no-nonsense answer, not meant to give offense. “Though I think you do know, or you wouldn’t have put so much effort into getting on this plane, would you?”

Chapter Fourteen

Setting up for the album launch at the Rose Chalet felt like a family affair. Julie and Andrew came early with several large trays full of food. Phoebe put a dozen rock-and-roll inspired arrangements of flowers around the main room, then spent the rest of her time with Patrick, helping him decorate the main hall for the evening.

What Tyce wouldn’t give to have Whitney there beside him, too.

* * *

The flight was going well so far. No turbulence and Clementine had behaved herself in her carrier bag. The cabin crew had gone out of their way to be courteous and friendly, so either they all liked cats, or news of what had happened at the check-in desk had spread quickly.

Whitney didn’t want to be the ex-executive who bullied people until she got what she wanted. Other people’s feelings mattered.

Except…what she wanted mattered, too. And she’d forgotten that for so long.

For too long.

* * *

Tyce heard the rumble of thunder as the clouds rolled in. It wasn’t the best weather for a party, but they were all going to be indoors. Rose began to pull shutters closed to keep the rain out, and RJ was there to help her, the way he always was.

Tyce started to lend a hand, but RJ shook his head. “We’ve got this under control. All you should be thinking about right now is putting on a great show.”

Rose’s phone rang and she put it to her ear. “Donovan? Really, you can’t? Okay. I understand.” She frowned as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. “It looks like Donovan won’t be able to make it, Tyce. Between an emergency client and the weather...well, you know how things can be for him.”