Page 19 of A Complicated Bride

“That’s right—they had eighteen children in that family.”

“Don’t even utter the words, Lily.” Julie grinned. “Because if I have more than one this time, guess who’s going to be helping me out on a regular basis.”

Julie waved for us to help ourselves to the succulent looking swordfish and we all started passing dishes as we talked.

“I won’t mind. Not one bit.”

“How about you, Brad. I have to admit I was surprised at your maternal instincts with the babies.”

I said, “Sure, didn’t you know Brad is the result of a research project gone wrong like in the movie Junior with Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

“1994. Arnold gets pregnant—don’t worry. There’s not enough hormones on the planet—“

After Jack nearly spit out his drink and Julie bellowed a laugh, I couldn’t help making my observation.

“Besides, you’re no Arnold. You’re too much like Cary Grant.”

“Yes—see. I told you,” Julie said to Jack.

“Don’t start talking about this guy’s Cary Grant resemblance. It’s all I ever heard about in college. And look where that got him. All the way to Hollywood.”

“And trouble.” Brad looked at me and I could tell he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. I put my fork down.

“Seriously, you think you might settle down sometime soon, Brad?” Jack asked. Julie swatted his arm with mock dismay at her husband’s heavy handedness, but even I could tell Brad and Jack were the kind of friends who could get away with saying about anything to each other.

“Maybe I will.” He forked a chunk of swordfish into his mouth while three pairs of owl eyes, including mine turned to him. I shouldn’t have been surprised, should I? How could I pretend to know what Brad might or might not do. But I’d been purposely keeping my expectations to nothing, exactly where they ought to be. Still.

“Don’t look too surprised. It could happen. I’m here aren’t I?”

“Now that you mention it, what are you doing here? What happened to the photo shoot you were on – wasn’t it tied to some big blockbuster movie coming out this summer?” Jack asked.

Brad paused mid-chew and I could almost swear he stopped breathing too. He put down his fork and swallowed his food.

“I left. Quit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I had an urgent sense that I needed to help him. I knew he didn’t want to be judged and come out looking bad by his best friend Jack. Maybe he thought Jack wouldn’t respect him if he were no longer a big shot photographer.

I knew that was nonsense, but I had a feeling that Bradley wasn’t so sure.

“Brad is on vacation,” I said. “Everyone deserves a vacation. I don’t think he’s had a true break in years. Isn’t that right?” I was pinch hitting because I had no idea and I figured he only needed me to buy him a little time.

He turned to me and smiled, but not that sexy Bradley killer smile. This one was tender, it came from a deeper place than super star Bradley façade. I knew he had a façade. I knew he hadn’t shown me much of himself. That’s why I’d made that ridiculous statement that he knew everything about me. I wanted to encourage him to share himself. I wanted him know me, to know I was willing to share myself, all of me. Even the me who ran off and left my fiancée without a proper good-bye. I gulped that thought to the back of my mind, knowing it was a reality I’d need to deal with soon.

He put his hand over mine and turned to Jack. I felt the nerves in the moistness of his hand. It was disarming that he’d share his vulnerability with me.

“I left town without a word to anyone. I didn’t show up on the set where I was under contract with the producers of that movie. My reputation is probably f--cked.” He took a breath into the silence. I watched him, my heart racing, and leaned closer. His perfect jaw and chin held the patina of dark stubble, his commanding brown eyes half demanding, half pleading for understanding.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Jack put his fork down. Julie stared mutely.

I had no right, but I said, “How about if we have a drink? Something stronger than champagne.”

I knew there was some bourbon at the bar and I pushed away from the table, not waiting for approval.

“Good idea,” Jack said after I had the decanter in one hand and a stack of old-fashioned glasses in the other.