‘And go see Liam at some point. I think if anything else goes wrong, he’s going to pass out from stress. Poor boy’s a bundle of nerves.’
Alex sipped his coffee thoughtfully. ‘Does he still get bad stage fright? I would have thought he’d gotten over that by now.’
‘You never get over it. Your mum still gets jittery before starting a film even now. You’re like me, always calm under pressure. We never worried about your nerves when you were performing.’ His dad gave him a pointed look. ‘We never thought to worry about you.’
Alex shrugged. ‘That’s because my heart wasn’t in it – acting. But my directing, that’s always meant a lot to me – the nerves are different, but they’re still there.’
His dad looked sad for a moment, and he put down his paper. ‘I’m sorry we weren’t there for you. We didn’t understand why you wanted to do something so… different.’
Alex smothered a smile. His acting dynasty family would never understand why he preferred a backstage role in a London theatre, compared to the buzz and glare of LA fame. ‘It’s okay, and I’d love for you to come and see it.’
They were both momentarily distracted by the fiasco of the gazebo on the lawn. Eddie was running across the grass trying to catch the silk cover that had been blown out of someone’s hands, and the gazebo was wobbling precariously, as if it were missing some much-needed screws.
His father’s voice brought him back to the present. ‘You should have been his best man, not Tony. He needs you.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
His father reached across and patted his shoulder, a surprisingly gentle look in his eyes. ‘Thanks, son.’ He slapped his thighs and stood up. ‘Right, I think it’s about time we helped. Don’t you?’
Alex rose from the swing. ‘I think so. We don’t want Eddie quitting on us now, do we?’
His father’s eyes widened with genuine horror. ‘God, no!’
Alex spent the rest of the morning helping with the decorations, Tony’s speech, and calming his brother’s nerves.
He’d got dressed for the wedding in his suite, as he needed to put in his contacts, and on the way back he’d caught a glimpse of Ellie running down the corridor to the bridal suite. She didn’t see him, as he was at the other end of the corridor and she was distracted. But he was glad to finally see her – after spending so much time together this past week, he was lost without her presence, and he was still worried about how upset she’d been last night.
After this wedding was over, Alex vowed, he would break away from Richie for good. He didn’t appreciate how he’d treated Ellie or how he’d managed this entire situation between him, Liam and Savannah. But Richie was also a close friend of his parents, so he’d have to be careful how he ended it. Hopefully, the new London theatre career would mean a natural break from his Hollywood ties.
He’d already taken his father’s advice and spent an hour today putting out some feelers to see what other options he mighthave. Now, as he drank in the sight of Ellie like a man dying of thirst, he knew he’d made the right call. She hurried down the corridor in her heels, her luscious curves bouncing with each step. She wore a Fifties swing dress in emerald green, which brought out the sparkle in her chocolate eyes and the warmth of her olive skin.
She turned and entered the bridal suite, and he saw that half of her hair had been pinned up and the rest was cascading down her backless dress like a waterfall of mahogany.
He’d never wanted a woman more. Her rejection stung, but he would have accepted it if it hadn’t been for her jealous reaction to the photo in the gym.
He needed to talk to her properly, clear the air. If she did just want to be friends, then that was fine – even if it hurt like hell. But something about her jealous behaviour and her previous kisses made him wonder.
Perhaps Ellie did want more, but was too afraid to confess it?
After all, she’d been let down so many times in the past that she must be as cautious as he was to put her heart on the line again. In which case, it was up to him to reassure her that he was a safe bet.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Oh God, they look awful!’ wailed Savannah, a bouquet of wilted flowers drooping sadly from her hands. ‘The heat’s killed them. I should have listened to you, Joseph. Who plans a tropical wedding with roses and peonies?’
Joseph waved away her concerns with his one good arm – the other was in a sling – while he desperately searched for a local florist on his tablet.
Ellie wasn’t sure if it would even be possible this close to the wedding. They were surrounded by private islands, for goodness’ sake. The nearest florist would be back on the mainland, surely?
Savannah began to pace, her embroidered dressing gown flapping around her ankles in the breeze from the bedroom balcony. ‘You said they wouldn’t last the journey from the mainland and you were right. Why don’t I ever listen? I ruin everything.’ She slumped on the bed and burst into tears. ‘I just wanted the same flowers as Mom had on her wedding day,’ she sobbed, looking at her sister – who for once seemed to have a heart, and now dropped to her knees beside her to rub her back with a soothing, ‘We’ll sort it out, don’t worry!’
The bouquet slipped from Savannah’s hands and dropped on the plush carpet, scattering petals in its final defeat.
‘Surely they’re not all dead,’ said Jessica, sweeping them up with a desperate expression and prodding the stems gently.
‘It’s too late,’ Joseph said, as if he were a doctor delivering bad news. Sweat was dripping down his face, and he swallowed deeply, looking like he might throw up. ‘They’re all gone. We tried to save them, but it was too late.’
Ellie edged a little closer, and had to admit the same. Although they’d once been beautiful, the car accident and the bad storage in the tropical heat had made them wilt and brown, shedding some of their petals and shrivelling the foliage.
