“What?” I hiss.
“I don’t like the way you said ‘we.’”
Oh my God. I’d rather face the paparazzi.“There’s nothing wrong with the way I said ‘we.’”
His eyes burn. Instinct says I should back down, but pride won’t let me. Besides, I can’t let him boss me around just because he gets out of sorts. It’ll set the tone for our marriage.
I jut my chin out, my eyebrows raised. Sebastian glares like he wants to wring my neck. My heart races, tendrils of fear and something luridly exciting spiraling up inside, like I’m facing an unrestrained tiger. His gaze drops to my neck, and my heart pounds faster.
“Finally!” comes a booming voice from my left, shattering our standoff. “My apologies, kids. The traffic in this town!”
A tall man is approaching. He and Sebastian share a striking resemblance. The man looks to be in his late fifties—maybe early sixties—his hair still dark, without a hint of silver. He’s overdressed in a cream-colored tux and a pale blue bow tie, but he’s fit and the clothes look good on him. A Rolex glints on his thick wrist as he waves. This must be Ted Lasker, Sebastian’s father. I’ve never met the man, but who hasn’t heard of one of the most successful movie producers of all time?
A pale man with an exceptionally huge forehead and over-gelled orange hair follows him in. Mr. Orange Head is in a white dress shirt and black slacks, no jacket or tie. However, he’s carrying an absolutely enormous bouquet of at least a hundred red roses.
“For the happy bride!” the producer says, coming straight for me.
The pale guy starts to extend the bouquet toward me, but Sebastian blocks his path. “Back off, Joey.”
The guy bounces backward, and I glance at Sebastian. What did this Joey do to deserve this treatment?
“I’m so thrilled to be here.” Seemingly oblivious, Ted Lasker puts theatrical hands over the center of his chest, and his neatly shaped eyebrows scrunch like he’s overcome with emotion. Then he stretches out his arms and pulls me in for a tight hug. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
I have to laugh. I can’t think of a time somebody was this exuberantly happy to meet me. Most are too worried about all the rumors. “Thankyou.”
“This is my father, Ted,” Sebastian says between clenched teeth. “He’s here to be our witness for the wedding.”
“And I’ll be helping,” Joey says with a wide smile.
Sebastian doesn’t respond, but I’m close enough to catch a quiet snort.
“What’s your name, love?” Ted asks. “Sebastian never told me.”
“Because you never remember,” Sebastian mutters.
My God, Sebastian is in the worst mood. He doesn’t have to be so overtly unhappy about our marriage. However, pointing that out would probably just upset him more, so I do my best to smooth the situation over. “Lucienne. But you can call me Lucie.”
Ted spreads his hands. “LikeI Love Lucy!”
“Just like that.” I smile.
“It’s perfect! You know, if we were to reboot that show, you could star in it”—he makes a noise of satisfaction deep in his throat—“even if you’re not Sebastian’s type.” He looks me up and down. “He likes them buxom and Mediterranean, like Gabriella.”
The mention of Sebastian’s ex is a little deflating. I guess Ted has seen the embarrassing “articles.”
“Not that she matters. When a woman bitches about another woman taking her man, it just means the first woman wasn’t hot enough to hang on to him. You’re so much better than her anyway. Nordic beauties are like diamonds—perfect the way they are. Not all women are created equal, you see. Some look better when covered in clothes, but not you. I can just tell. I’ve seen millions of women.”
Sebastian makes a choking noise, but Ted ignores him. I keep listening in mute fascination. I’ve never been around a person with such an unpredictable bulldozer of a mouth before. It’s amazing how he can say things that are simultaneously complimentary and offensive.
Ted continues, “Lovely proportions. Very rare. But if you ever feel the urge to augment yourself—and every woman does—you come to me first. I know the best surgeons in Beverly Hills. Their work not only looks real, itfeelsreal.” He puts his hands out and makes a kneading motion. “Hand feel is critical. I mean, what’s the point if they’re like plastic? Am I right? Am I right?” He looks around.
“Totally right,” Joey says.
“Damn right I’m right. And since you’re so pretty and I absolutely adore this wedding, I’ll pay for everything. Actually…you know what? I’ll pay for anything you want. You just call Papa Ted, all right?”
I can barely process all the things pouring from his mouth, but I say, “Yeah, I’ll do that,” anyway.
Sebastian looks like he’s in pain. “Iwill provide you with whatever you need.”
