EPILOGUE
James
James received word that the guest of honor was on her way to the ballroom. “Five minutes,” Charlotte Williams had texted him. “Took some convincing after we left the spa, but we’re finally heading over. You’ll LOVE the dress she bought!”
“Five minutes!” James called to the guests milling about the ballroom. Everyone was on their second glass of champagne and ready to get this party really started. I can’t blame them. I’m ready to party, too. He’d be happy to start with a hard drink, but he’d wait until Gwen arrived. “Everyone get into place!”
There weren’t many places to hide in a ballroom equipped for wedding receptions and surprise birthday parties. But the fifty guests, which included some of James and Gwen’s closest friends and select family members, gathered in the back of the room while one of the uniformed waiters turned off most of the lights. That unfortunately included the strings of yellow party lights hanging low enough for anyone over six feet tall to bat around. James hoped some of his old frat buddies would wait until they were drunk enough to get away with it. I chose champagne and wine for a reason, you idiots. James needed another drink.
“Uh oh.” Ian tapped his friend’s shoulder when James hunkered down by one of the tables in the center of the dark ballroom. “Check it out.”
He showed James his phone, currently filled with texts from Kathryn. “I think she suspects something is up. You gentlemen better be ready for this, because Charlotte and I will try to blow smoke up James’s ass so she’s in a good mood when he jumps on her.”
“Jumping on her?” James scratched his head. “What does she think this is? The Dark Hour?”
“Tell me the only reason you’re not having this party there is because your mom’s here.”
James waved to Ophelia on the other side of the room. She politely waved back before returning to her chat with another guest.
“Imagining my mom in a BDSM sex dungeon is something I can live my life without, thanks.” James cleared his throat. “Sounds more like a Welsh thing, if you catch my drift.”
They both looked to the other side of the room, where Cassandra rocked a sleeping toddler dressed in a smart little shirt and trouser set. She was the life of that half of the party, surrounded by a dozen heiresses and young trophy wives who attempted to contain their exploding ovaries.
“Say a thing about my son, and I’ll clock you, Mathers.” James hushed everyone after that, for he received a text from Charlotte saying they were getting out of the car.
The event coordinator hustled into the ballroom with a similar announcement. She hauled ass to the far side of the room, ensuring she wouldn’t be the first thing Gwen saw when she entered the darkened room with her entourage of heiresses.
It had been an easy enough plan to concoct once he told Kathryn and Charlotte what he had in mind for Gwen’s birthday. “Take her out for a spa day and a shopping spree – I’ll make sure all the reservations are made so there won’t be any complications. Then tell her we’re all having a birthday dinner in the restaurant at the top of the Longevity Building. She loves the gourmet burgers there, so she’ll go along with it. I’ll even tell her that’s where I’m taking her for dinner. Instead, bring her to the ballroom.” To make sure she didn’t really kill him, James arranged for the restaurant to cater the party. Gwen would still get her gourmet burger for dinner.
Three feminine shadows appeared outside the door. Kathryn was the one who opened it, and Gwen followed her. “…Why are we going in here?” Gwen asked. “Don’t tell me this is a…”
James cut her off before she could guess what had happened. While the lights popped back on and guests leaped out from behind tables screaming Surprise!, James flashed his wife a big, charismatic smile. Like the ones he used to seduce her into his heart and bed.
Gwen clasped her hand over her heart for one second before lowering it again, the fires of disbelief burning in her eyes. Yet that grin peppering her lips assured James that he wouldn’t be castrated that night. Maybe on the morrow, but for that one night, Gwen was more than content to simply shove his shoulder and greet the guests coming up to wish her happy birthday.
“You bastard,” she snapped, smirk still intact on her face. “I guessed you were up to something when these two insisted on spending an extra hour at the spa.”
“What?” Charlotte’s attempt at looking innocent was appreciated. “I really needed that extra massage. I’m soooo tight in my lower back!” She turned the moment a waiter approached them with flutes of champagne. “Ooh! Booze! ‘Bout damn time!”
Everyone grabbed a fresh flute of champagne and held them up to cheer for Gwen’s birthday. She abashedly muttered that she wasn’t sure why everyone was making such a big deal about it. She had already turned thirty. Her current age wasn’t special! They were only making such a big deal because it was a Saturday!
“They’re making a big deal because you’re the best, Gwenny.” James took her hand and gently tapped his glass against hers. “There isn’t a lady in this room who holds a candle to your beauty or matches your humility.”
She rolled her eyes. “You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”
James knew he couldn’t say anything to change her mind, but he still stood by his declaration. You are the most beautiful woman in the room, Gwen. There’s no arguing that. Her brand-new cocktail dress was a simple light pink that hugged her knees and showed off her muscular shoulders with tiny straps that barely clung to her generous bust. Her blond hair was down and free, and her heels sensibly low to the ground. Perfect for pulling her into the small dancefloor, where James had the opportunity to put his glass down and initiate the first couple’s dance of the evening. Gwen was still blushing and giggling when he kissed her and said, “Happy birthday.”
“How long were you planning this for?” she asked.
He twirled her when the chorus of her favorite song played over the speakers. “Two months? Maybe three? You know me and my big plans.” James pulled her back into his arms. The two of them silently swayed while other guests paired off and danced around them. Laughter filled the air. Exactly what Gwen deserved on one of her many birthdays.
“I do know you and your big plans.” Gwen gripped his shoulders and hid another smirk behind her pink lips. “Which means you have other plans as soon as we get home, yes?”
Before James could either confirm or deny such knowledge, Cassandra snuck up behind him, their son squirming in his arms. Tiny tear tracts slid down his cheeks as he momentarily reached out to his father but was inadvertently prevented from touching him. Cassandra was too flustered to do anything but rearrange her son against her chest.
“So sorry, but I think we need to head out.” She patted Patrick’s head. “It’s getting to be his bed time, and you know how he is…”
James released one of Gwen’s hands but kept the other firmly clenched. He kissed his son and cooed at him until Patrick was somewhat pacified.
“Say bye bye.” Cassandra turned the tearful toddler to the birthday girl. “Can you say bye bye to Gwen?”
The sounds didn’t come out, but at least Patrick made a paltry effort to mouth the words in their direction. The poor boy wanted to go to bed. Can’t blame him. He takes after me, after all. Can’t be helped! James liked his bedtime and naps, too. Patrick had a long life of wanting to do nothing but sleep half the day away before him!
“Thanks for coming to my birthday party, Patrick.” Gwen placed a kind hand on his cheek. To his credit, the boy didn’t shirk away from her. In fact, he reached both hands out to her, and Cassandra struggled to keep the growing toddler from falling out of her arms. “I’ll make sure to come to yours soon, too!”
“I think he wants you to hold him, Gwen,” James said, careful to not pressure her. “He makes that gesture when he wants to be held goodbye.” It prided him to know that. He better damn well know what kind of things the kid meant with his gestures.
Gwen hesitated before opening her arms to him. Stiff arms, to be sure, but the fact she made the effort was what almost brought tears to James’s eyes. Cassandra carefully passed the boy to Gwen’s embrace. She stayed on standby until Gwen had her fill of bouncing the kid in her arms and saying her goodbyes. Patrick had stopped crying by the time he went to his mother.
“Have a good night.” Cassandra nodded to them both with a smile before taking her leave. Gwen was the last to turn around.
“Where were we?” she asked her husband.
The birthday party was arranged to Gwen’s tastes, from the food and drink to the music the DJ regaled them with. To the eternal sounds of The Cranberries, James continued to twirl his wife across the dancefloor and occasionally fielded cheeky questions from the guests who knew nothing about their relationship. Forever a secret except to a select few.
Until tonight.
James stopped dancing at the end of “Dreams” and held Gwen out at arm’s length. He fished into his pocket while the DJ cut the next song and everyone in the small ballroom turned toward them.
Gwen looked around as if she were about to be pranked.
“Gwenyth Mitchell,” James said, sweat dripping from his fingers and into her palm. “You are the most wonderful woman I have met in my life. Who knew that me stumbling into a random bar one night would bring my soulmate into my life?”
“That’s fate, bro!” an old frat brother yelled over the heads of the crowd. People chuckled. Gwen blushed.
“I think it’s a crime that the whole world doesn’t know what we really mean to each other.” When he got down on one knee and pulled out the ring they picked out for their elopement two years ago, Gwen nearly passed out. “Do me the honors of publicly being my wife, would you?”
Chuckles turned into awe. At first, James worried that he had committed a great faux pas against his wife. Not like he had run this by her first!
Gwen unleashed the most conniving smile he had ever seen grace her beautiful face. “Why, James,” she said with fake candor, “are you asking me to finally marry you? On my birthday? Oh, dreams come true!”
He picked up her cue and ran with it. “Yup! Gonna marry you on your birthday! How does next year sound?”
“Plenty of time to dump all your cash into the wedding of the year!”
James looked to his friends, who shrugged, then to his mother, who also shrugged. Nobody would save his ass tonight. “You want a wedding, huh?”
Gwen crossed her arms and shrugged. The tables had turned on James Merange, and he had nobody to blame but himself. “I want the world, James. We can start with a fancy little wedding. Now, come give me a big engagement kiss.”
Only a few people in the ballroom knew what was so funny about this situation. Honestly, it was the perfect prank for James to play on everyone, from his mother, to his best friends, to the woman now in his arms and sharing a kiss with him. Raucous applause erupted. The only sound they heard between the beating of their hearts, however, was Charlotte sneaking up to them and whispering, “If I’m not the maid of honor, you’re dead to me,” into Gwen’s ear.
“She… doesn’t know we’re already married, right?” Gwen asked as soon as Charlotte disappeared back into the crowd.
“I never told her.”
Gwen shook her head. “The girl ain’t right.”
James squeezed her closer to his body. Her arms flung around his shoulders, and their noses lightly rubbed together. James could have kissed her again. Instead, he said, “Good thing you’re the right one for me.”
They kissed to more applause. Gwen flexed her finger boasting her wedding ring against the back of her husband’s neck and whispered the naughty things she wanted to do with him that night. Funny. He already had all of that planned. It’s almost like we’re on the same wavelength or something!
As soon as the music began again, he dipped her over his arm and looked deep into her eyes. He saw nothing but love… and the same curious expression she gave him that first night he walked into her bar.
If she never lost that look in her eyes, then James would know that they were destined for an eternity of bliss – probably with no dull moments.
THE END
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