If she had been dreamily in love with Pierre, she might be a rotted-out husk right now, unable to leave a dark room. It was better that she was able to get through today, to be present for Wulfie’s wedding and make sure that the day was good for him.
To get through this ceremony and not think, she watched Dieter, who stood right behind Wulfram. He met her gaze over Wulf’s shoulder, a kind smile playing on his lips.
It was like he was trying to help her.
So she let herself drift in the thought of what her life with Dieter would have been like if they had been gazing at each other while the priest spoke over them, and she wafted through the minutes.
Flicka was still daydreaming and pretty much missing the wedding that she had poured her heart’s blood into when the door at the back of the church slammed open, and a slim woman wearing jeans and a red shirt marched in.
Flicka shaded her eyes, trying to see who it was and if she needed to jump for safety. When she glanced over at Dieter and Wulf, they both had their hands inside their jackets, and Rae was clutching her thigh.
Dieter stepped in front of Wulf and Rae, and his arm stretched toward Flicka.
She tensed, ready to jump to him.
Tiny, blond Lizzy started laughing. The peal rang from the church’s arches, seven stories above them.
Rae called out, her voice ringing over the spectators and echoing from the vaulted ceiling and antique plaster walls,“Georgie?”
Oh, good Lord. Georgie Johnson had arrived.
Even though the wedding had begun an hour late, Georgiana Johnson still hadn’t been able to get her butt to the church on time, and she wasn’t wearing appropriate clothes, either.
Damn it.
Flicka would have to take care of that, too.
Irritation and anger pushed down her grief, and Flicka concentrated on the wedding.
On Duty, Sort Of
Dieter Schwarz
Anything, always.
Dieter sat at the head table.
Below the small dais and table, the huge ballroom buzzed as people straggled in. A curving staircase descended from the second story, where an announcer bellowed nobles’ names and titles as they entered. So far, only the minor nobility—counts and earls with their countesses—had made their entrances. Dukes and higher would enter later, when the reception had truly begun.
All the earls and counts wanted their privilege acknowledged, though. Dieter knew their minor-nobility arrogance all too well. Dukes and princes might skip the introductions, but the minor ones were all over it, every time they were allowed.
The plebeians were not presented on the staircase, of course, but walked straight in through the doors on the ground level. Thus, the little people already had their appetizers and drinks and were starting the party, while the hungry nobles waited in a long line and tired their feet.
Dieter ate his plate of shrimp at the exposed, obtrusive head table. He always kept watch at big events like this that Wulfram attended, looking for the glimmer of recognition that might ruffle someone’s eyes. His appearance had changed substantially in the fifteen years since he had disappeared himself and become Dieter Schwarz, though.
Still, he watched.
Wulfram moved in rarefied circles, and they were in Switzerland. Some of these people might be related to the Swiss banking families or their clients, and someone might recognize him.
The shrimp were good, though, very fresh and cold. When he bit into the melon, it released juice into his mouth. Flicka had done well with the food, he easily admitted.
There were lots of flowers around the cavernous ballroom, too. White ones. Some must be roses because they smelled like the perfume Flicka wore. Fairy lights sparkled among the huge bouquets. He assumed Flicka had authorized white flowers and sparkly lights. Otherwise—Dieter smiled—he might be called upon to take out a florist.
The Bluetooth device in his ear whispered the communications of his captains who were guarding the wedding, from the snipers wearing night-vision goggles on the roof and in the hotel bushes outside, to the sharpshooters wearing tuxedoes who pretended to lounge on the balconies around the room while drinking water from their wine goblets, to the plainclothes security mingling with the guests.
All seemed to be fine.
Probably.
