“Cathy sent you an itinerary. Didn’t you read it?” Helena asked snippily.
“I did, but it didn’t say family pictures,” Alex replied.
Helena opened her mouth, but said nothing as her eyes turned into slits.
“That’s because we’re not fucking doing family fucking pictures. We don’t need family fucking pictures at every fucking hoop we have to jump through in this fucking dog and pony show.”
A good-looking, well-built man who was maybe a couple inches shorter than Rix, with a white streak through his graying hair at the left temple, wearing a suit that Rix, who knew nothing about this shit, still knew cost twice as much as his, shouldered in and grabbed Alex by the shoulders.
Rix crowded them.
But the guy just pulled her up, kissed her cheek, and murmured, “Hello, darling.”
He let her go and stepped back as Alex murmured in return, “Hey, Dad.”
Her father did a once-over of her and declared, “You look beautiful.”
Okay, maybe the dad was all right.
“She needs a bracelet. Her wrists are bare,” Helena decreed.
The mom, though…no.
“She doesn’t need a fucking bracelet, Helena, she’s wearing Bernhard at her ears,” the dad, whose name Rix knew was Edward, bit off.
“Your mother isn’t here anymore, Ned, so please kindly stop kissing her ass,” Helena retorted, saccharine sweet.
Edward cut through his ex-wife with a look and turned back to his daughter. “Don’t listen to her. You’re perfect.”
“She is,” Rix put in.
The guy’s eyes cut again, to Alex’s side and up to Rix.
He looked Rix up and down, nodded, and offered his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you, John.”
Rix took his hand, made sure the grip was firm, saw the man register it, approve, though Rix couldn’t give fewer fucks, and he replied, “It’s Rix and good to meet you too.”
“Rix, yes, Rix. I remember that. Rix,” Edward repeated in that way Rix knew people did when they repeated names of people who meant nothing to them, but they didn’t want to be caught out not remembering it should they need it in the future.
They let go of each other’s hands, and Helena decreed, “The photographer has been waiting.”
“Would you allow, perhaps, your daughter and future son-in-law to get themselves a drink?”
“The bar isn’t going anywhere,” Helena sniped.
“Neither is the photographer,” Edward returned.
She tried to launch daggers from her eyes as Edward dismissed her and caught someone’s attention.
A second didn’t elapse before an employee showed, not a server, someone in charge.
“Darling?” Edward asked Alex what she wanted to drink.
“Champagne,” Alex ordered.
Edward looked up at Rix.
“Beer.”
“An ale or a stout or a porter,” Alex put in quickly to the staff person.
That person curved off.
“Good. Hearty. I have some craft brews at home. We’ll share some by the fire while you’re here,” Edward invited.
“Good Lord,” Helena muttered. “Since when do you drink beer?”
“We’ve been divorced for twenty-one glorious years. You don’t know what I drink,” Edward shot back.
“Mum. Dad. Rix and I haven’t had dinner. And, you know, maybe it’d be good if you two weren’t at each other’s throats the first time you meet my guy and at Blake’s nuptial celebration cocktail party.”
“She means you,” Edward said to Helena.
“She means you,” Helena said to Edward.
Rix bent to her ear and whispered, “That’s a no, baby.”
She turned her head his way and giggled.
Fucking giggled.
He looked into her eyes, which were twinkling.
Right.
Maybe New York was gonna be fun.
“Okay?” he asked unnecessarily.
Lifting her clasped hands to her chest, she leaned into him, front to front, and tipped her head back.
He put his hands to her waist, felt her skirt around his thighs, saw the full back of it poof out, it looked great, it felt sexy as fuck, but still, he gave all that up to brush his lips to hers.
“Hey ho! We’re the only ones allowed not to keep our hands off each other.”
They broke away but only so Alex could slide back to his side, and they both latched on to each other before they faced a younger version of Helena in a cream, figure-hugging dress of all lace, showing serious cleavage, sky high heels, her dark hair much longer than her mother’s and falling in her face on one side.
Blake.
With her was a tall, slender, blond dude with what Rix reckoned was a fake tan, because he’d never seen skin that color.
Chad.
“You must be Rix, yes? Is it Rix?” Chad asked, offering his hand.
“Yeah, Rix,” Rix confirmed, taking it. “And you’re Chad.”
“Whoa, buddy!” Chad exclaimed. “No need to cut down any trees here,” he went on jovially, pulling his hand from Rix’s and trying to hide he was flexing it.
Good Christ.
Rix hadn’t even squeezed hard.
“Rix, lovely,” Blake murmured, then he experienced the whole sway side to side thing without touching when she did that to him, though he didn’t sway.
He was right.
It was weird.
When she moved away, she draped herself on Chad’s arm. “Chad and I are so glad you could come.”
“Thanks for having me,” Rix returned.
Blake looked to Alex and her fake welcome washed from her face. “Alex.”
“Hi, Blake.”
“You’re in Grandmother’s flowers.”
Rix pulled Alex closer.
“They go with the dress,” Alex replied.
“Very pretty dress, babe,” Chad said.
And Rix’s eyes snapped to him.
Chad was giving Alex a down and up but he felt Rix’s attention, the orange of his face remained, but there was pale under it, and he leaned a bit back.
A server showed with a tray on which was a glass of champagne and another of beer.
Rix took the champagne for Alex, gave it to her, and was going after the beer when Blake bitched, “The bride doesn’t get served?”
“What do you want, darling?” Edward asked.
She had her eyes aimed at Alex’s champagne.
And he’d have called it before she said, “Champagne,” in a way that it was clear she expected Alex to give hers up.
Okay, the sister?
Hell no.
“I’ll get you one from the bar,” Rix offered.
Blake opened her mouth.
“Rix!”
He turned.
And he smiled when he saw a flame-haired beauty making her way through the crowd.
He let Alex go right before Dru threw herself in his arms.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured.
“It’s so good to see you!” she cried, holding tight.
He held tight too, until she popped back, clicked her teeth, bopped her head, and slapped his chest. “You! Always so dapper in a suit.”
She was in green satin, on the bottom, some posh sweater material, top, skirt like Alex’s, long sleeves.