Susan Mallery - The Sparkling One

Kathleen Elizabeth Marcelli-age twenty-eight, never married. She had a bachelor’s degree in business from UCLA, and had started working for a party planner/organizer type during college. Five years ago Katie bought out the client list and opened Organization Central. She had three full-time employees, seven working part-time.

No illegal vices-from what he could find out, no vices at all. She was smart, organized, reasonably successful, and while she visited her family regularly, she didn’t make them her life.

He’d hired her to get her in his corner. Based on the chemistry clicking between them, all was going according to plan.

At least the wedding wasn’t for a few months. That would give Zach time to stop things. His son was too important for him to lose this battle. He was the best at what he did for a reason.

“So, Zach,” Lorenzo said, motioning with his wineglass. “We have the big wedding this summer, then next year, the bambinos, eh?”

Babies? Zach nearly spit. Mia and David were still babies themselves. Damn. The last thing he needed was Mia getting pregnant.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Grandpa, I have school. I’m not getting pregnant until I have my degree.”

Tessa frowned. “But being a mother is more important than a few classes at a university. You’re a woman, Mia, not a computer. You don’t need to fill yourself with more learning. You’re a smart girl. Wouldn’t you like to have some babies?”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” Zach said hastily, earning a grateful smile from Mia.

“I disagree.” Colleen Marcelli, the girls’ mother, spoke up. “I had Katie when I was nineteen and the twins the following year. But Mia didn’t come along until ten years later. I have to say, that pregnancy was a lot more difficult. A woman’s body is built to have children early.”

Even petite, grandmotherly Mary-Margaret had an opinion. “I suppose if you’re waitin’ until summer to get married, there’s no hope of an unexpected bundle of joy?”

Zach nearly choked.

“We need a son,” Lorenzo said, pounding his fist on the table.

Zach glanced from the old man to his equally aging wife. Even with all the advances in fertility research, there was no way that was going to happen.

“Brenna.” Lorenzo turned his attention to his granddaughter. “You’re married nine years and no babies.”

“Grandpa, we’ve had this discussion before. Jeff had to get through all his medical training first.”

“Bambinos come first,” Lorenzo insisted. “Besides, he’s a doctor now. Why are you still so skinny?”

“If only,” Brenna muttered.

“My granddaughters-you all let me down. Katie-my beautiful Katie. Why haven’t you found a nice boy?”

“Lorenzo,” his wife warned. “Leave the girls alone.”

He ignored her. “Francesca-you have a face like an angel. For many years you mourned the loss of your husband, but it is time to move on.” He motioned to the table. “Only little Mia goes out of her way not to break her old grandfather’s heart.”

“Pop, back off,” Marco told his father. “If the girls are happy, we’re all happy.”

Lorenzo didn’t look convinced.

Zach glanced at the sisters. Their expressions were identical masks of long-suffering. Apparently this wasn’t an unusual outburst. Still, he felt a strong need to grab David and make a break for the car.

Their mother straightened in her chair. “We’re nearly finished with the new labels. They’re very impressive,” she said, and suddenly everyone was talking about wine.

Mia leaned toward him. “Welcome to the family. It’s not always like this. Just when someone mentions something about a wedding.”

Great. So in addition to worrying about David screwing up his life, Zach also had some concerns about mental stability in the older generation.

When the meal ended, the sisters quickly cleared the table. Brandy was brought out, along with trays of cookies.

“Bring in some paper,” Colleen called. “I don’t know when we’re going to all be together again. Let’s work out some of the details of the wedding while we have the chance.”

Zach swore silently. “Isn’t there plenty of time for that? Maybe we should enjoy the engagement for a while.”

Colleen looked at him as if he’d lost his frontal lobe. “Zach, I’m sure you’re a whiz in the courtroom, but like the average male, you don’t know anything about planning a wedding. Think of it as invading a small country. We need to plan, organize-”

“Shop,” Katie offered helpfully as she stepped back into the dining room. She carried several pads of paper and a handful of pens. Instead of circling to her seat, she paused by his chair, and for the first time since dinner had started, actually looked at him. “You might want to take notes, just so that later, when you’re finally home, you don’t try to convince yourself that this was all just a bad dream.”

A smile teased at the corner of her full mouth, making him want to smile in return. When he’d met her in his office, he’d thought she was attractive and sexy as hell. Now he was impressed by her ability to recover. Most women he knew couldn’t get over a broken fingernail in less than twenty-four hours. Katie had survived what even he had to admit had to have been a pretty humiliating experience, and she’d done so with grace and style.

She was tough. He liked that. He took the pad of paper she offered, along with a pen. As she turned away, he admired the curve of her hip and the length of bare leg exposed by her dress. Tough, together, and more than a pretty face. Exactly the sort of ally he needed to keep his son safe.

The rest of the sisters returned to the dining room. All the women grabbed pads from Katie.

Mia knelt on her chair. “We’ve talked about July,” she said, drawing a big heart in the center of her paper. “Maybe the nineteenth.”

Six pens dutifully scratched out the date. Zach’s good humor faded. Ally or not, how the hell was he going to stop this damn wedding?

“You’ll have the ceremony here,” Marco, Mia’s father said. “The vineyards will be beautiful then, and all the flowers will be in bloom.”

“An arch by the east garden,” Colleen said.

“Exactly.”

Husband and wife smiled at each other. Zach’s stomach knotted. Until then, Marco hadn’t said much, and Zach had been holding out hope that at least one person in the Marcelli family had a brain. Unfortunately Marco seemed just as enthused by the idea of the wedding as everyone else.

He glanced at David. “This is moving pretty fast. You okay with this?”

His son beamed. “It’s great, Dad. Didn’t I tell you this was the best family?”

Oh, yeah. Just peachy, Zach thought grimly.

“We were thinking of afternoon for the ceremony,” Mia continued, after kissing David’s cheek.

“Late afternoon,” Tessa said from her end of the table. “You’ll want a nice dinner. We could have it outside. Lorenzo, do we have enough champagne?”

He dismissed the question with a wave. “What kind of man would I be to not have enough champagne for my youngest granddaughter’s wedding?”

In a surprisingly short period of time, the family had worked through a number of points. At this rate the wedding would be planned by ten that night. If they were going to work fast, he would have to work faster.

Mia drew more hearts on her paper. “I haven’t had time to start looking for dress ideas yet, Grammy M. Maybe we can go out next week.”

Mia’s petite Irish grandmother shook her head. “My hands aren’t steady enough anymore,” she said quietly. “It’s time for someone else to be in charge.” She turned to the granddaughter sitting next to her and clasped Katie’s hands. “Katie will make your dress.”

Make? Zach blinked stupidly. Couldn’t they just buy it…and return it when the wedding was canceled?

There was a second of silence, followed by an explosion of conversation. Mia raced around David to hug and kiss her sister. Colleen wiped away a tear. Katie simply looked stunned.

Apparently not, he thought grimly.

“Are you sure, Grammy?” Katie asked.

“Yes. You were always the most patient and the best seamstress. You’ll make your sister a beautiful dress.”

Mia pulled Katie from her chair and hugged her again. “We can go shopping together and find the absolutely best pattern and then come home and make it. I’m so happy!”

Chairs were pushed back as the family collected for a group hug. Once again all Zach wanted to do was grab his kid and bolt for freedom. Instead a surprisingly wiry Grandma Tessa pulled him to his feet, where he was ushered into the crowd.

David owed him for this, he told himself as Lorenzo grabbed him by both arms and kissed his cheeks. David owed him big time.

Zach and David didn’t escape until well after midnight, although Zach doubted his son viewed their leaving as an escape. David had seemed genuinely sad to go.

Zach congratulated himself on having the foresight to have his assistant, Dora, make reservations at a nearby hotel. After the post-dinner brandies, not to mention an impromptu sing-along with a Barber of Seville CD, he was in no shape to face the long drive back to Los Angeles.

Instead he and David bedded down in adjoining rooms in a small beach-front hotel that had probably been fashionable back in the nineteen-forties.

He’d barely turned out the lights and shifted on a mattress that had seen better days when he heard footsteps rustling on the carpet. He clicked the light back on.

David stood in the doorway between their rooms. Sometimes his son seemed so grown-up. He was capable and competent. But tonight, wearing the hotel’s too-big bathrobe, with his hair mussed and a thousand questions in his eyes, he looked like a little boy. Zach shoved several pillows behind his back so he could sit up, then motioned to the room’s only chair.

“Let’s talk about it,” he said.

David shifted his weight from foot to foot, then slowly headed for the dark blue armchair. He sat down, legs parted, hands hanging between his knees.

“So what’d you think?” he asked, not quite looking at his father.

Zach considered the question. There was no way he was going to tell his son what he really thought about anything. “They’re nice people.”

“Yeah?” David glanced up, his expression hopeful. “I really like them all,” he admitted. “I mean Mia’s great and I love her a lot, so the family’s just a bonus, you know?”

“Sure. Kind of like finding a plastic race car in the cereal box.”

David grinned. “Exactly. I like spending time there.”

He hesitated. Zach waited patiently, knowing that his son would get to whatever he had to say eventually.

“I don’t remember my grandmother very well,” David admitted softly, speaking of Zach’s mother.

“You were what, six, when she died?”

David nodded. “And I never met your dad, or my mom’s parents.”

Zach figured the day had been crappy enough without him having to think about Ainsley, or his ex-in-laws.

“I really like the idea of a big family, Dad,” David continued. “It took me three visits to figure out Mia’s grandparents. Grandpa Lorenzo is always talking about vines and grapes. I don’t get the whole wine thing, but it’s fun to listen. He tells great stories about going back to Europe during the Second World War and smuggling out cuttings from French and Italian vineyards. Mia’s grandparents found these really old architecture plans based on some house for a Spanish nobleman and used them to design the house.”

Zach listened without saying anything. He was just a single father-a lawyer who worked in an office. No way he could compete with Spanish noblemen and war stories.

He wanted to slam his fist against a wall and demand a fair trial. He’d done the best he could. Ainsley had been the least maternal woman known to the human race, and when she’d bailed, he’d been left alone with a child. He and his son had grown up together. Sometimes Zach even allowed himself to think he’d done a damn fine job.

“I was an only child as well,” he said casually. “I know what it’s like to want a big family. But we’ve done okay together.”

David swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m not complaining, Dad.”

“I know you’re not. You’re saying that your attraction to Mia isn’t just because she’s a pretty girl who makes your heart beat faster.”

David nodded.

Zach didn’t want to hear that. It meant breaking them up was going to be more difficult than he’d first thought.

“You were really great tonight,” his son said. “I could tell you were sort of, you know, uncomfortable, but you did good.”

Zach didn’t know if he should be pleased or insulted by the compliment. “Gee, thanks.”