A Fortune's Children's Wedding (24 page)

“Because we'll choose not to.” Her voice was fierce. “We do have choices, I've learned that much from growing up with my mom. There were so many times when she could've chosen to do things differently and then everything would've been different. She said it was simply fate but I
knew
it was choices.”

“And I choose you, Angelica. For always, which brings us back to my proposal…” His voice lightened.
“You haven't exactly come right out and said
yes
yet, you know.”

“Yes!” Half-dizzy with joy, Angelica launched herself into his arms, linking her hands behind his neck.

“I love you, Flynt, and I want to marry you, too. And you are the only man in the world I've ever said that to. I'll never say it to anyone else either.”

“Seems like it's official, then.” Flynt reached for her, and they kissed, a sweet long kiss of passion and possession, the kind of kiss that promised love and lasting commitment.

“I guess what it all means is that we were made for each other.” Angelica sighed when they finally came up for air. She snuggled deeper in his arms.

“It does.” Flynt lowered his mouth to kiss her again.

“Excuse me, my dears, I don't mean to intrude but here I am, anyway.” Kate's voice ended Flynt and Angelica's kiss, just as their lips touched. “You see, you are only a foot away from the lilacs which desperately need pruning.”

The couple looked up to see Kate, holding a basket half-filled with fresh-cut flowers and a pair of clippers, standing beside several burgeoning lilac trees.

Angelica and Flynt rose to their feet, still holding hands.

“That's okay, Grandmother. Prune away. Oh, and Flynt and I are getting married,” Angelica added happily.

“Well, of course you are, darling. That sweet little Mollie has been working hard planning for it. Did you know that your mother was quite taken with Mollie's suggestion for the reception to be a formal high tea?
Mollie has already arranged for tea sandwiches, warm scones with Devonshire cream and jam, fruit tarts and pastries, along with the traditional wedding cake and beverages, of course.”

“Gee, and I was hoping for a big steak dinner,” teased Flynt. “With ranch fries.”

“You may have that for dinner tonight, my carnivorous young friend,” Kate teased back. “We're having the family over for dinner about an hour from now. It's very informal, an outdoor barbecue with nice juicy steaks—and of course, fried potatoes.”

“Would this be the A list family or the B list or both?” Angelica asked curiously.

“I'm not certain what you mean, dear.” Kate was puzzled.

“Brandon assigns the Fortunes Hollywood-style status,” explained Flynt, “and that is how he described them to Angelica and me. His brothers and sisters and their offspring are the A list. The Ben Fortune aunts and uncles and their descendants are the B list.”

“Oh, my.” Kate grimaced wryly. “I do hope that Brandon hasn't told the additional, extended family relatives that they're, er—”

“Relegated to the B list? Brandon said what's the point of being A list if you can't lord it over the B's? He says that's show biz.” Angelica shrugged.

“Angelica, dear, I can understand that you might feel…estranged from your father, maybe even hostile toward him,” Kate began tentatively, “but—”

“Grandmother, there is something I've wanted to ask you but didn't feel I had the right. Or the nerve. But
after today…” Angelica stared intently at her grandmother.

“After today, you feel you have the nerve and the right to ask me anything?” Kate surmised shrewdly. “And so you do, darling. Ask me.”

“Why do you even bother with the B-list relatives if they're Ben Fortune's kin?”

Kate was genuinely taken aback. “Why, Angelica, I consider Ben's brothers and their wives, and my nieces and nephews and their children, to be my own family. I'm close to them. I know them so well, many all their lives. I have watched most of the younger ones grow up and—”

“But they're related to Ben Fortune and that man was evil, Grandmother,” Angelica burst out, “though nobody around here ever seems to say so. I've heard the relatives mention Ben Fortune, they talk about him normally, you know, it's ‘Dad this' and ‘Grandfather that.' His pictures are up on the walls along with everybody else. It's like he is a regular member of the family. How can that be?”

“Ben Fortune is the family patriarch, Angelica,” Flynt pointed out.

“But Ben gave away his own baby and then he lied to you about it all those years, Grandmother,” exclaimed Angelica. “He had to have known how vindictive and cruel Monica Malone was, but he let his own son be raised by her—or more likely by her servants. No matter how nice Ben was to the other Fortunes, it doesn't excuse the fact that he gave my father away like—like a puppy!”

Kate flinched.

“Angelica, I think you've said enough,” Flynt said firmly.

“No, let her continue,” countered Kate. “I can see you've given the matter some thought, Angelica.”

“A
lot
of thought, Grandmother. Whatever Ben Fortune's motives, I bet he decided to give away Brandon because he was a twin. After all, you'd still have one baby left. It's like this friend of mine at work who has a dog that had three puppies. They gave away two pups and kept one and the family was satisfied since they got to keep the one. The others were superfluous, just like Brandon was to Ben.”

Angelica's face was flushed with emotion and the words kept pouring out. “I bet he decided to keep the girl twin because you already had two other sons. Ben Fortune considered my dad expendable. Can't you just imagine him saying to himself, ‘A third son, who needs him? We'd been wanting a daughter, so Monica can have the extra boy.' Grandmother, how did you ever forgive that terrible man for what he did?”

Kate blanched and swayed slightly. Flynt reached out to steady the older woman. “Angelica didn't mean to upset you, Kate,” he said quietly. “But she is very, uh, passionate on the subject of mothers and babies. It's only natural, since maternal-child health is her profession. And, of course, Romina's interest in, er, domestic issues has naturally influenced Angelica. Some might say radicalized her.”

“You needn't explain or try to apologize for Angelica, Flynt.” Kate managed a tremulous smile. “Who said I ever forgave Ben for giving Brandon away, Angelica? As I told Sterling when the news was revealed
that Brandon was my son, ‘Ben is lucky to be dead already because otherwise I fear I would've killed him myself—and in the most painful way imaginable.'”

“Good!” Angelica vigorously nodded her approval.

“Angelica, do you know you are the first member of the family to use the word
evil
in describing Ben's actions?” Kate regarded her granddaughter keenly. “Or at least to say it aloud to me. Whatever the others have said, it's been among themselves, never to me. It is as if we struck some unspoken sort of collusion of silence. ‘Don't talk about what Ben did, it's in the long-ago past. He is dead, and there is no purpose to be served in holding him accountable for what he did to Brandon.'”

“Well,
I
hold him accountable!” Angelica exclaimed. “What Ben Fortune did to you was unforgivable, Grandmother. Just ask Flynt, whose parents had a child taken, what kind of hell your life turns into. And Flynt's little brother was taken by a stranger. Your child was taken away by your own husband, Grandmother!”

“I know, Angelica, I know.” Kate's eyes filled with tears. “I would've—and did—forgive Ben's wartime affair with Lana Simpson that resulted in Jessica, of whom I've grown quite fond. It wouldn't have been as easy to get over his Monica Malone fling, but I could have weathered that, as well. But for Ben to take our own baby, one of our twins, and give him away to Monica Malone, to let me believe that bogus kidnapping story until the day he died…”

“Kate, don't.” Flynt patted her shoulder awkwardly. “It's in the past and there is no need to—”

“There is a need, Flynt.” Kate's eyes met Angelica's, and the two gazed at each other, forging a bond as tan
gible and strong as steel. “Angelica is Brandon's child, and I'm glad she is angry on Brandon's behalf. I'm also glad she has no memories of Ben that allow her to excuse what he did. You are right, Angelica, giving Brandon away was evil. During all those years, not a single day went by when I didn't think of my missing child. I would look at my daughter, Lindsay, and wonder where her twin brother was and what he was doing—or whether he was even alive. In my darkest moments I pictured a small forgotten grave and my baby lying in it.”

“Oh, Grandmother, I'm so sorry!” Angelica threw her arms around her grandmother, who dropped the flower basket and hugged her back.

Flynt began to quietly gather up the spilled blossoms while the Fortune matriarch and her long-lost granddaughter hugged and cried.

“But I think we can finally lay it to rest, Angelica,” Kate said through her tears to the girl. “I have Brandon back and now I have you—and Romina, too. I'm grateful to your mother for giving you to us, and I have full confidence that we'll be seeing a completely different Brandon, with her at his side.”

“At the risk of sounding glib, Brandon will definitely behave himself with Romina to answer to.” Flynt smiled as he handed Kate her flower basket. “His sanity, such as it is, will depend on it.”

“That came out sounding glib, anyway, Flynt,” scolded Angelica, but Kate laughed.

“Now about our wedding and this high tea reception for the A- and B-list Fortune tribe,” Flynt said wryly.
He caught Angelica's eye. An unspoken message passed between them.

“Would the whole Fortune gang enjoy the party, even if the bride and groom were—somewhere else?” Angelica asked obliquely.

But not obliquely enough. “Could you tell me exactly where that ‘somewhere else' might be?” asked Kate. “I promise I won't tell a soul. I'll let Mollie keep planning the wedding, and all the Fortunes will arrive and have a smashingly good time, with or without the presence of the bride and groom. And that will include Brandon and Romina, too, and your little brother and sister. I shall personally make sure of that, my dear Angelica.”

“We could hoodwink the whole family!” Angelica was enthused. “Do you think we can actually pull it off, Grandmother?”

“My dears, I have complete faith that the two of you will pull it off. And you have my official blessing to hoodwink the Fortunes.”

A
few hours later, the Fortune jet landed at the Las Vegas airport.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to flying in a private jet,” Angelica remarked as she and Flynt headed into the terminal.

“This was a much more staid flight than the one from Birmingham to Minneapolis.” His eyes gleamed. “This time we actually sat in our seats and read magazines the whole time. I think the attendant was a little disappointed we behaved so very conventionally. How dull for him.”

Angelica blushed. Would she ever be able to remember her first flight and their first lovemaking—
a very literal flight into passion!
—without blushing? And now she was actually thinking in florid purple prose! Her cheeks burned scarlet.

“We behaved like a respectable, about-to-be-married couple,” she said rather primly.

He grinned. “Whatever you say, Angelica.”

Each of them was carrying an overnight bag. When Flynt reached for hers, Angelica hung onto it. “I can carry it, thanks.”

“A symbolic gesture, proving to yourself and to me that you intend to carry your own weight in this relationship?” he asked wryly.

“You sound like a profiling agent at the Behavioral Science Unit again. And you're way off target, former-agent Corrigan. I don't want you carrying both bags because I want you to have one hand free.” She slipped her hand into his. “So I can hold it.”

They smiled at each other, their eyes telegraphing messages that were not at all dull or conventional and certainly not staid.

“You can gamble right here in the airport.” Angelica glanced around at the slot machines whirring and clanking as travelers continuously deposited coins.

“You can do almost anything, anywhere in this city, at any time, which is why I suggested flying here. We can get married immediately.”

“Wedding chapels open for business twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” Angelica read a poster as they passed. “Oh, look at that one. We can be married by a licensed Elvis impersonator.”

“It would make an interesting wedding photo, but I have something a little more traditional in mind, sweetheart…”

“The Chapel O' Love is kind of traditional,” Angelica decided half an hour later as she and Flynt were ushered inside a wedding-cake-shaped chapel. Everything inside, from floor to ceiling, was dazzling white
like shiny frosting on a wedding cake. “In an untraditional kind of way.”

“I like to think that describes us and our relationship.” Flynt's thumb caressed her palm. “Are you ready?”

She nodded her head.

“Nervous?”

Angelica gazed at the white pews, at the altar where the man in white, ready to pronounce them husband and wife by the powers invested in him by the state of Nevada, stood waiting. The Chapel O' Love was a full-service chapel, which meant everything necessary for the wedding nuptials could be purchased on the premises.

The rings. She and Flynt had selected matching plain gold bands. The flowers for the bouquet; Flynt had insisted on white orchids. She was touched again by the mere notion that he remembered her favorite flower.

Even a witness could be hired to act as a wedding attendant. And so Tiffany, a buxom, leggy blonde wearing a standard but tasteful pale pink gown, was in place at the white altar.

Angelica's own wedding dress was a white silk sheath given to her by her grandmother before leaving Minneapolis. The endlessly resourceful Kate had arranged for Mollie to bring a selection of dresses to the house where Angelica chose her favorite. The elegant white silk suited her best, Kate had agreed, presenting the dress to her newfound granddaughter with much love.

A tape of “Here Comes the Bride,” the Mendelssohn traditional version, Angelica's choice out of a large and extremely eclectic music collection, began to play.

Was she nervous? Angelica considered Flynt's ques
tion. Then looked up at his warm blue eyes and shook her head no. “I've never been so sure that I was doing the right thing in my whole life.”

“That goes double for me, sweetheart.”

Hand-in-hand, they walked to the altar. There was no father to give the bride away but since her father was a very new presence in her life, it was better this way, Angelica mused. She was giving herself to Flynt—just as he was pledging himself to her.

 

“Mrs. Flynt Corrigan.” Angelica held out her left hand and admired the wedding ring Flynt had placed on her finger less than an hour before. “Angelica Corrigan.”

“I like the sound of that.” Flynt smiled as he refilled her glass from the bottle of champagne cooling in ice alongside their table.

“Mmm, I do too.”

They exchanged blissful, loving newlywed smiles, oblivious to everything but each other.

They were enjoying a celebratory late supper in a dimly lit restaurant in one of the biggest, glitziest casino hotels along a long wide strip of big, glitzy casino hotels.

“We pulled it off,” Angelica exulted. “Instead of being the Hoodwinked Bride—”

“You successfully hoodwinked the Fortunes.” Flynt chuckled. “Which doesn't happen very often, I'm fairly sure of that.”

“Well, they've never crossed paths with me before,” Angelica added slyly. “Anyway, we had grandmother's official blessing, remember?”

“I certainly do. Which means if you change your
mind and decide you want to return to Minneapolis in time for the reception Mollie's been planning, nobody will dare to say a word about us skipping out of our own private wedding. Not even your mother, I'd wager. Kate has completely charmed Romina, which put me in further awe of your grandmother.”

“Do you want to go back to Minneapolis for our post-wedding reception, Flynt? Remember, you can have all the tea sandwiches and Devonshire cream with scones that you can eat there.”

“Mind if we pass on the tea sandwiches and Devonshire cream? Let's stay here and call the Fortunes at our post-wedding reception. We can accept everybody's good wishes and tell them our plans—”

“That we'll be living in Minneapolis, at least at first,” she chimed in.

“But we might relocate to Birmingham some time in the future,” he added. They'd agreed to remain flexible in their living arrangements.

Under the table, Angelica ran her fingers along his thigh. Her dark eyes gleamed when she felt his instantaneous response.

He leaned over to whisper something outrageously sexual in her ear. “My loving blushing bride,” he teased, observing her reaction.

“My incredibly imaginative groom,” she shot back, sliding her hand even higher.

He groaned. “If the waiter wasn't already headed this way with our dinner, I'd pick you up and carry you directly to our room, Mrs. Corrigan.”

The waiter arrived at their table and began to set plates in front of them. The food looked and smelled delicious.

“I have an idea, former-agent Corrigan,” Angelica said brightly, reaching for her fork. “The minute we're finished eating—”

“I'll pick you up and carry you directly to our room?”

“You read my mind!” She pretended to be astonished. “Your intuitive skills are extraordinary, Flynt.”

“You're very loyal, sweetheart. But don't try to tout my intuitive skills to Gabe and your Fortune uncles and cousins who probably consider me dense rather than intuitive. I don't think they'll soon forget that it was Brandon who bested me in first suspecting Casper.”

Angelica shrugged, unconcerned. “You and I had other things on our minds. Like breaking down lifelong restraints and reserves and falling in love with each other.”

“I do love you, Angelica.”

“I love you, Flynt.”

“Forever,” they said at the same time, their voices and their thoughts and their hearts in perfect unison.