Landon

I rattled off my checklist over the phone to my assistant. One by one Erin responded with a resounding, “Check.”

“Oh, and the flowers?”

“Yes, Landon. The flowers were delivered this morning. Everything is set to go. The tents are up, the valets are standing at the end of your gate, and the catering trucks are lining your driveway.” After a pause, the unmistakable sound of helicopters forced her to raise her voice. “Do you hear that? And on cue, there they are circling above like vultures.”

“Great. Thank you, Erin. You have no idea how much I appreciate all your help.”

“Yes, I do. Your Christmas bonuses are the reason I put up with your shit,” she admitted on a laugh. I knew she was kidding. I’d treated her very well over the past four years. Her loyalty and dedication were what often kept me sane during my tumultuous life. And she knew how to deal with Roger. That alone was worth every penny I paid her.

“I have to go,” I said, running a hand through my hair one last time.

“Okay, break a leg.”

I ended the call and gave myself one last once-over in the mirror. Purposely going for casual, I forfeited a tie and left my white button-down shirt opened at the collar. Running a hand over the smooth fabric of my black dress pants, my thoughts wandered to Zara as I picked a piece of lint off my knee. Not having had Zara in my arms since yesterday, I couldn’t wait to see her.

Now that she lived in California with me, we were rarely separated. Over the last year we’d traveled quite a bit for both business and pleasure. I wanted to show her so much, but in the middle of a press junket there usually wasn’t time to take in the sights. So during the weeks when I didn’t have obligations, we visited my parents in Jersey. I showed her my apartment in Manhattan and took her to a Broadway show. We met Annia and Kai in Vegas a few times. We also bounced to Niagara Falls, London, Rome, and Paris in between my commitments. There were still so many more places we needed to see, and I looked forward to showing her every corner of this earth.

Zara became a pro at traveling on whirlwind press tours. Her photography business was doing very well, and when on the road with me she’d try to use her skills in a positive way. At times she photographed other stars during their press junket interviews, and with their permission she would then release the photos to the press for their use. Sometimes, especially in foreign countries, it lessened the frenzy and the persistence of paparazzi trying to get that perfect shot. It also gave the stars control over the shots that were used.

We had a short lull before the craziness began around the release of my movie; Vanishing Act would hit theaters in just a few months. Zara had experienced every stage of production by my side, giving her input whenever I asked for it and her encouragement when doubts made me feel that sharing our story was all a big mistake. I wanted it told on my terms, my way. I was proud of the results, and didn’t care if it flopped at the box office. It was therapeutic from start to finish.

Throughout it all, I was so proud of Zara. From the way she handled her personal life when we had just started out to the way she handled herself on my arm at every awards show, press tour, and premiere we attended. She had been nothing but the epitome of class and style.

It didn’t matter if she was in a pair of denim cutoffs and a tank top while lounging on our couch, or a couture gown when walking a red carpet, she was stunning each and every time and often took my breath away by just throwing me her dimpled smile.

I was also proud of how her family handled my fame as well: with grace and dignity. When in my presence, they ignored the questions thrown at them by the press. When apart, they went about their lives, bravely handling any disruption my fame caused to their everyday routines. Behind closed doors was where we heard her father’s gripes and grievances, but all in all he surprised us with the way he conducted himself with the press.

I had asked Zara to marry me while we visited our bungalow over her birthday weekend. It was low key, with Spike and the two of us enjoying some solitude after a whirlwind press tour. While walking along the beach, with the sun setting over the ocean, I dropped to one knee and presented her with a simple yet stunning ring that suited her perfectly.

She had immediately said yes, and if there had been a minister nearby I would have married her right then and there. The only thing that had stopped me was knowing how important it was for our families to be there.

One firm knock on my door sounded just as Roger walked in.

“Nervous?”

“Not at all.” I wasn’t. I had prepared for this for a long time. I was in my element when I should have been nervous, that was when my confidence was most powerful. Today, that confidence soared through the roof.

“I call bullshit,” he said before grinning. “I was sent to get you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Good.”

He opened the door and stopped when I called out his name. When he turned expectantly, I said, “Hey, thanks, man.”

“For? I like specifics, since I do so much for you.”

“Asshole. Mainly for putting up with me this last year and a half, for biting your tongue every time I passed on a script you loved, and mostly for accepting she’s the single thing that matters to me. Even though it took you long enough,” I added with an eye roll.

“Screw you. You’re lucky I have your back. And luckier to have found such a spectacular woman who I can’t find any fault with.”

“And we both know you tried your damnedest.”

“It’s what I do. Besides, she loves me now.”

“Love is definitely not what I’d call it. More like tolerates you now.”

“In Hollywood, that’s close enough.” He winked before running a hand over his receding hairline and sucking in his belly. “Showtime.”

Presently at my home in Bel Air, helicopters circled above my house. Paparazzi camped outside my gates, hoping to catch a glimpse of us. The funniest part was every entertainment news station was currently broadcasting live from their location, aka my home, anxious to report details of Landon Price’s wedding day. Yet there we were, assembled on our small patch of beach in Lanai.

Joke was on them.

Zara wholeheartedly agreed to having a small ceremony with just our families and closest friends present at our home in Lanai. She loved my idea to lead the press into thinking we’d be married in a huge ceremony in Bel Air. We even went as far as sending invitations to most of Hollywood. The three hundred guests would be fed well, music would entertain them, top-shelf liquor would mellow them, and then they’d be forced to participate in a charity auction for children’s cancer research. Once over, they’d all be sent home without having witnessed a wedding. They’d get over it, and if not, oh well.

We had yet to decide what we wanted to do with our bungalow. Zara loved that it was just as it had been when I’d stayed there. I concurred to leave it as it was for the time being with the addition of some much-needed technological improvements, including cable, a large flat-screen TV, and Wi-Fi. I also insisted on the new natural stone shower large enough for two, and of course security cameras, an alarm system, and a tall security wall that circled the entire property. Otherwise, the small bungalow remained the same. But the minute I got her pregnant, construction would begin on the property for a house big enough to fit our brood someday.

We also had yet to decide where we would be honeymooning. She argued why waste money when we could stay on Lanai. I argued that little by little I wanted to show her more of the world than just the inside of luxury hotels or conference rooms made to hold press conferences.

My compromise was to stay here in Lanai for a few days, and then I was surprising her with a two-week stay in Tuscany, the place I had informed her we’d be honeymooning on our first date. Even then, I must have known somewhere deep inside that flippant comment would come true someday.

In total, fourteen guests were there for our special day. Our parents, her sister and brother-in-law, Roger and his wife, my lawyer and his wife, my PR rep with her partner, Palu, and Kaholo completed our guest list.

Everyone had met a few months ago, and thankfully got along beautifully. We were a family, in every sense of the word.

At the sound of the Lanai City Lovers beginning a Hawaiian version of the “Wedding March,” our guests all twisted in their seats to watch Annia and Kai walking toward where I proudly stood near the preacher. Spike lifted his head where he lay in the sand in boredom before setting it back down on my bare foot.

At the sight of Zara appearing with her arm tucked under her dad’s, my heart exploded in my chest with the overwhelming emotion I couldn’t contain. That dimpled smile that I couldn’t resist lit up her face as she came closer and closer. I smiled at her choice of dress. At my request, she went ahead and wore the same flowing white dress as she had on our first date. The way the fabric hugged her curves should’ve been illegal.

The hot-pink hibiscus flower tucked above her ear, the contrast of white against her tanned skin, and her long golden-brown waves of hair took my breath away.

Spike finally took notice and jumped to his feet upon seeing his mommy approach. I tore my eyes away from Zara and offered my hand to my future father-in-law. A warm smile played on his lips as he accepted it with a nod. His response toward me was a long way from where we’d been. We still had a way to go, but I was optimistic that the worst was behind us.

Mr. Jobert turned his focus to his daughter, placing his hands on her face. “I love you, Zara. But you always knew that. What I often neglect to tell you is how extremely proud I am to be your father, and thankful you accept me as I am.”

She nodded with a smile, quickly wiping away the tear that rolled over her beautifully tanned cheek. He gently kissed her forehead and offered me one more smile before taking his seat next to his wife.

Zara handed her single calla lily to her sister.

“You look stunning,” I said, taking her hands in mine.

“I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I keep thinking they’re going to bust onto the beach at any moment having found us.”

I shook my head with a small smile. “No way, baby. We fooled them all.”

“Shall we begin?” the preacher asked.

At our nod, he opened his Bible and began the ceremony. I loved that it was completely unscripted. I loved that together she and I called all the shots today. I loved that this was for us, and no one else.

We might have had to share so much of our lives with the world, but it was moments like this when I refused to. And I didn’t care what it cost to ensure something as sacred as our wedding day happened on our terms and no one else’s.

When the preacher announced that we could recite our vows, Spike positioned himself on the sand between us. He looked up at us as if he knew what was about to happen. The black bow tie with pineapples that I’d bought him still sat prominently around his neck, although the designer grooming he’d been receiving in LA gave him a very polished and distinguished look. The little booger had turned into a doggie-diva since living in Bel Air, much to our chagrin.

He released one single yip, clearly thinking we couldn’t proceed without his blessing. At the preacher’s amused pause, three short, impatient barks meant he wanted him to move on with the ceremony.

Zara met my eyes with a grin and a shake of her head. “I blame you,” she said once again.

“It’s not my fault,” I argued, grinning back while clutching her hands in mine.

“Zara, you may now recite your vows to Landon.”

She looked at the preacher and nodded as her bottom lip quivered. I reached over and skimmed my thumb across it. “It’s just you and me, baby.”

“Okay,” she said, dragging in a deep breath. “Lance…” Giggling adorably, she quickly said, “Sorry, I mean, Landon.” She squeezed my hands and closed her eyes for a moment. When they slid open, I had to suck in a breath from the sheer volume of love I saw on her face. “I thought the man I met here in Lanai over a year ago was just a gorgeous tourist who tried to steal my dog.”

“Not true. He found me.”

Her smile widened while she shook her head. “Whatever. Through Marshmallow, I quickly realized why he was so drawn to you. Because each day that passed, I was falling under the same spell. To me, you were Lance White. You were sweet and kind and funny, and most of all, compassionate. And it wasn’t long before I fell head over heels. When I found out who you really were, I worried that I no longer knew the man I fell in love with. But I did. Even as Landon Price, you were exactly the same man I fell in love with. Lance White, Landon Price, it doesn’t matter what name you sign, I love you.”

Stepping closer, she smiled warmly as my eyes welled with tears.

“Lance, I promise to love you more and more each day. I will always support you, even when there will be times I’d rather stay in watching old sitcoms on TV. I promise I will always have an endless supply of peanut butter crackers for you—and Spike—in the pantry and in my handbag for emergencies. I promise to play nice with Roger.” She glanced his way and gave him a dazzling smile. He nodded with a wink. “I promise to not make fun of you when you have a s’mores craving. I promise to make a soffer out of you yet.”

“Surfer.”

“That’s what I said. But most of all, I promise to legally change Marshmallow’s name to Spike, and to not name any other dogs we get in the future.”

I laughed through my tears as Spike barked his consent. Without conscious thought, I leaned forward to kiss her lips. “Um…Landon, it’s not time for that yet. Please recite your vows to Zara.”

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “Zara. When that little white puff of fur landed on my doorstep, never in a million years did I think that he would lead me to the best thing that ever happened in my life. I can remember every second of the first time we met. The way you walked down the street toward us, every single article of clothing you wore, the way your hair was styled, and the way your eyes looked like honey. And then you spoke, and I knew I needed to hear more, I knew I needed more of you.

“I know this will sound cliché and completely Hollywood, but I love you so much it hurts. Your dimpled smile takes my breath away. The way you say my name makes me weak in the knees. When you laugh, cry, worry your lip because you’re afraid to tell me something…”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do. Everything you do makes my chest ache in the best of ways. Every time I’m with you I feel like my heart will literally burst. I promise I’ll always protect you. I promise I will support you in every way. I promise I will shelter you from the harsh reality of my job as best I can. I promise not to make fun of you when you order Hawaiian pizza. I promise to introduce you to Justin Timberlake.”

“Really?”

“Really. I promise to piss you off often.” I leaned closer and whispered, “For obvious reasons.” She released a laugh while shaking her head. “I promise to try not to use tickling as a means to get you to confess. And, lastly I promise to name all our children as well as any future pets.”

With a dimpled smile and tears in her eyes, she moved into my arms. We didn’t bother to wait for the preacher to pronounce us man and wife, or even to give us permission to kiss. We took it upon ourselves, and while the preacher announced us as man and wife, and while our guests applauded and cheered, we continued kissing, forgetting everyone and everything around us.

We’ve always been good at that—forgetting the outside world, forgetting my fame, forgetting my name.

She was right, it didn’t matter what name I went by. Because as I stood there kissing my wife, eager to begin the next phase of our lives, I was no longer Lance White or Landon Price. I was about to start the most important role of my life…as Zara’s husband.