WHILE DESIREE AND BASTIEN were going through the song choice list Brianna had given them, editing it to take out a few that they felt had been overdone and adding others, two of the bedrooms were a hive of activity. Gloria Wells, owner of Thairapy Salon, was styling the bridal parties’ hair, as well as that of many of Mai’s family members who’d flown in from Hawaii for the occasion. In the other bedroom, Gloria’s daughter, Jolene, who’d arrived the previous day from Los Angeles, was using her pots, pencils and powders to create her own kind of magic.
“I love it that you kept me looking like myself,” Kylee Campbell said, closing her eyes as instructed while Jolene spritzed the rose water setting spray on her face. “But so much better! We need to add credits at the end of the wedding video. Just like in the movies!” She held up her hands as if framing it on a screen. “Makeup by award-winning Jolene Wells!”
“Being nominated is a long way from winning. It’s a long time until the awards ceremony in September.”
“But there were so many TV movies and series made last year,” Kylee said. “And you ended up making the top tier! I’d vote for you to win in a heartbeat.”
“Me, too,” Mai, her fiancée and about-to-be wife said. “Besides, how many more Tudor period TV series does the world need? There is no competition.”
And wasn’t that exactly what Jolene had thought when she’d seen the list? “I love you,” she told Mai. “You, too,” she assured Kylee.
“Love is all around!” Kylee, who seemed to be talking in exclamation marks today, said.
“We probably should have credits,” Mai seconded Kylee’s suggestion. “How many people have not only a famous makeup artist, but also a three-time award-winning singer at their wedding? I can’t imagine how your pulled that off,” she told Brianna, who’d arrived to get her makeup done for her role as maid of honor.
“Bastien Broussard fell into my lap,” Brianna said. “Actually into your kitchen. It turns out he’s an old friend of Desiree’s who’s in town to visit her. From New Orleans, by way of Paris.”
“I love Paris,” Kylee said with a sigh. “I once dreamed of living there, in some little attic apartment on the Left Bank.”
“You’d definitely fit in with all the other artists and bohemians,” Brianna agreed.
“I would have back then. But I don’t regret a thing. Because if I had settled in Paris, I might not have met Mai, and we wouldn’t have Clara.” She laughed. “Of all the ways I imagined my life turning out while I was growing up, I never, in a million years, would’ve guessed I’d be happy as a typical suburban mom.”
“In the first place, this cottage is not in the burbs. Honeymoon Harbor doesn’t even have suburbs. And you’ll never, ever, be typical. You still do beautifully creative photography, so it isn’t as if you’ve been completely domesticated.”
“That would certainly be true,” Mai said as she left the room with Kylee to get their hair styled, then be helped into their gowns.
“You’re my next victim,” Jolene said, turning to Brianna. “Not that you need much work. Fortunately, not everyone has your perfect skin, or I’d never get my makeup line launched.”
“I’ve been using the night cream I bought from your mom at the salon. And the day cream with the sunscreen,” Brianna said. “They’re so light, I can’t even feel them on my skin. When you do launch it, it’s going to be a smashing success.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Jolene said as she spritzed a lavender rosemary toner on Brianna’s face. “This will keep your skin hydrated when you’re spending so much time in the sun,” she said. “The lavender is mostly to relax you. You’ve been running around like the Energizer Bunny all day.”
“I want Kylee and Mai’s day to be perfect. As maid of honor, it’s my responsibility to make it happen.”
“It’ll be wonderful. Beautiful. And as perfect as everything you always do.” If
Brianna hadn’t been so nice to her during those high school bullying days, Jolene could have been jealous of her ability to multitask seemingly a gazillion things at once without so much as having a honey-blond hair slip out of place. She began smoothing a moisturizer on her face. “And even if you messed everything up, Kylee’s so high up in the gilded happy clouds, I don’t think she’d even notice.”
“She’s definitely dialed her usual enthusiasm level up to eleven,” Brianna agreed.
Jolene dabbed on a bit of foundation. “I don’t want to gossip, but is Amanda Barrow always so quiet?”
“She’s not the chattiest person in the world, but then again, I’m usually not, either, so I’ve never noticed. But now that you mention it, she might be a bit more subdued today. Why?”
“She had what looked like the last stage of a bruise on her right cheek. And it was a little swollen, like a bruise tends to be. So, not wanting to bring it up, since we don’t know each other at all, I massaged her face, to help break up the blood, with Arnica gel. It’s a homeopathic herb that I’ve found works very well with bruises after face lasering.”
“Ouch.” Brianna’s hands lifted to her own cheeks. “I can’t imagine doing that.”
“You’re not in a business that requires women to remain forever young,” Jolene said.
“Thank God. My problem used to be just the opposite. I was young enough that sometimes it was hard to be taken seriously. Especially by older wealthy men who were used to more staid, gray-haired butler types.”
“You were young, blonde and pretty. Like nearly every other woman, you’ve undoubtedly encountered your share of unwanted male attention.”
“And isn’t that a polite way to put it,” Brianna said, confirming Jolene’s statement. “Getting back to Amanda—who, by the way, created a fairyland out in that garden—she’s a landscaper. Although she has a crew, while she was doing the work on Herons Landing, I watched her carrying big rocks around and planting trees and shrubs. I suppose bruises could be part of that.”
“Makes sense,” Jolene agreed. “So, I noticed your brother arrived a while ago,” Jolene casually commented.
“Seth came because his mom’s officiating. I sort of coerced Aiden to come to catch up with him. He’s been staying at the coast house for a few weeks.”
“Really?” Jolene was proud of how her voice showed none of the nerves that had been tangling ever since she caught sight of the one man she’d rather never see again, talking with Seth and Caroline Harper in the back garden. “Is he on vacation?”
“More like decompressing. He recently came back from Los Angeles—”
“Aiden’s been in LA?” What would she have done if she’d known? And the second question: Had he known she was living there?
True, she didn’t have her face on a billboard on Sunset Boulevard, but the announcement of the award nomination was listed in the Los Angeles Times, LA Weekly, Los Angeles Magazine and Variety. And other papers she hadn’t even known about until she’d discovered her mother had gone online, downloading and printing out every mention of the nomination she could find. Jolene made a note never to go to a movie she’d worked on with her mother. Gloria would probably take a photo of the screen when her name appeared. Way, way down toward the end, after nearly everyone had left the theater.
“Aiden joined the LAPD right out of the Marines. He started in SWAT, then moved to different departments. Funny, I was so caught in my own career at the time, I didn’t make the connection about both of you being there. I guess you never ran across one another?”
Jolene shrugged. “It’s a big city. The odds would have been against it.”
“I imagine that’s so,” Brianna said. “Las Vegas wasn’t nearly as large, but I know how we all run in our own worlds and spaces. But now that you’ll have an opportunity to catch up.”
Fortunately, Brianna went on to talk about how wonderful Mai’s family was, most of whom were staying at Herons Landing, which saved Jolene from responding.