First Love - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 04] Read online

  She shot a quick glance toward her mom, whom she'd always considered a doormat, and felt a quick twinge of guilt. Apparently, Julia and Myrna's family resemblance ran deeper than just blond hair and big boobs. Julia, it seemed, was a doormat, too.

  Damn.

  In front of her, Marv was pacing in circles, clearly agitated, his arms flapping in front of the fan as he tried to dry the damp moons under the arms of his wrinkled blue shirt. "It's hotter than hell out there," he said. "Just walking from the damn car to here. And it's a damn sauna in here, too. You think you can keep guests when the lobby's an oven?"

  "You set out a pretty strict utility budget, Pop. And Texas is hot during the summer."

  "You keep the rooms this hot, it's a wonder you get any business at all."

  "The rooms are much cooler, and we let the guests adjust the temperature themselves. Since I had limited funds, I thought it made more sense to focus on the comfort of the rooms rather than the lobby."

  Marv snorted, then walked deliberately to the thermostat and slid the lever down so low that Julia an-ticipated needing a coat within the hour.

  Once again her gaze darted to Myrna, and, upon seeing her mother looking so frail and quiet, Julia

  I was determined to widen the gap. She took a deep breath for courage, then said, "I'm doing a good job, Pop. Why can't you admit that? Tell me I'm doing good?"

  His eyes narrowed until they were almost lost in the folds of his face. "Doing good? You want to hear you're doing good? All right, Princess. I'll say it." He puffed out his chest. "Sounds like you're doing a damn fine job running things in Texas, Julia." His voice was hearty, his tone almost jolly. Not at all like Marv, and she winced. He never called her by her given name. Not unless she was in trouble.

  "But?" she demanded, even though her instinct was to turn tail and run. Or start in with a barrage of apologies.

  "But I'm a little surprised, is all."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I thought you was at least a little bit smart, is all. I guess maybe your sister really is the only girl got brains in the family."

  Her mind whirled; he'd never called her smart before. "I I don't understand."

  "You and this Sonntag a-hole. You gotta know he's only using you."

  "No, he's"

  "See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. Naive. You really think your cowboy fell in love at first sight? Just had to have you? That it was just a coincidence that his father and I had it out all them years ago? And that I got the better of Robert Sonntag in the end? That cowboy don't love you, baby girl. He's using you. For payback." He gestured between them. "To mess up what you and me got."

  Her eyes flooded, and she forced herself not to blink, determined not to leak tears down her cheeks. "You're wrong, Pop. The Sonntags aren't still obsessed with the past. It's not eating them up inside. They're not throwing temper tantrums."

  At that, Marv bristled, but she hurried on. "They've moved on. This isn't about the Inn or Sonntag House or even you or Robert Sonntag. This is about me and Roman and that's all. Nothing else. Nothing ."

  Marv made a snorting gesture and shot her a pitying look.

  Julia stood straighter, anger making her bold. "Roman loves me, Pop. And I love him. And you're just going to have to get used to that."

  "Love him? You hardly know him. He's just one more in a long string of boyfriends. You've had your fun, had your fling. Okay, fine. I get it. But you ain't gonna let this punk-nose cowboy ruin our family, are ya?"

  "It's not like that"

  He spread his hands wide, a big smile on his face. "You wanna get married, Princess. I get that. You, you were made to get married. And you find the right guy, and I'll pay for the biggest wedding you ever saw. One'll make them royal weddings in England look like some white trash in Vegas gettin' hitched. But you come back home. You marry a guy who gets you. Who loves you. One who ain't just trying to use you."

  "Bart was nice," Myrna put in, her voice small. Julia turned to her mom, her eyes narrowed. "And he adored you," Myrna added. "Oh, that would be so nice. You could get married in the backyard. By the fountain. Maybe even arrange to have doves released from the roof. You like doves, don't you, Julia?"

  Doves ? She loved doves. For that matter, doves were on her to-do list, with butterflies in the fallback position. But she wanted Texas doves. In a Texas wedding. With a Texas groom.

  She opened her mouth, not sure if she wanted to point that out to her mom or simply scream. No, what she wanted was to calmly and rationally tell her parents they were full of it. She wanted to explain to them that she and Roman didn't give a fig about some stupid business battle their parents had more than fifteen years ago. They were in love and they were getting married. She loved Roman . She didn't love Bart. Hell, she barely even remembered Bart.

  Just a nice, simple, civilized conversation. They'd sit down, talk it all outthen Marv and Myrna would nod and kiss her and tell her they understood and of course she and Roman had their blessing, and wasn't it wonderful, and could they have the honor of renting white horses and carriages so that Julia and Roman could ride off into the sunset together?

  Such a wonderful, wonderful scenario

  Braawwwp !

  Marv's loud belch made Julia jump, and she closed her eyes, thrust as she was back into such an unpleasant reality. Her fantasy might be nice, but it was just that: fantasy.

  In front of her, Marv had plunked himself down in the puke green lobby sofa that Julia swore she'd slipcover if she could just learn to sew. Marv had bought three hundred and fifty of the things for about as many dollars from a bankrupt furniture supply company, then had shipped one to most of his Inns across the country. Considering how hideous the sofa was in both comfort and visual appeal, Julia had no doubt why the company went bankrupt in the first place. Ethan Allen it wasn't. "That guy you got working the desk. He good?"

  Julia blinked at the change in subject. "Well, yeah. He's not as seasoned as Hector," she said, referring to the part-time clerk who had been working at the Inn since before Julia came on. "But he's learning. He's a quick study."

  "Good. He's the interim manager."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You're out of a job, Princess."

  " What ?" She shot a glance toward her mother, but Myrna, as usual, was hiding in her own little world. No help at all. "You can't!"

  "I can and I did," Marv said. "It ain't your motel to run anymore. So why doncha pack your bags and come back home with us. This cowboy really loves you, he'll come after you."

  "No."

  "What?"

  She shrank a little under Marv's evil glare, then dug deep to find her courage. "I said, no. I'm staying here."

  "Then you're staying unemployed. And you're moving outta my motel."

  " My motel. And no, I'm not." She whirled on her heel and slid behind the counter. She'd given up things she loved before because of her dad's ridiculous temper. Well, she wasn't giving the Inn up without a fight. Not after all the work she'd put into it.

  She stopped in front of the computer, put her hand on the mouse, and called up the registration log. "Fire me, and I call every single one of these people and cancel their reservations. I'll say we've got a rattlesnake infestation. They'll never book again, and our ninety-six percent occupancy rate will just fly out the window."

  "You wouldn't."

  She picked up the phone, her heart pounding with terror in her chest, but anger fueling her courage. "Watch me."

  His eyes narrowed to slits. "You're making a mistake, Princess. No one plays hardball with Marv Spinelli and wins. I'm the best there is."

  Her chin lifted automatically. "Yeah? Well, I'm a Spinelli and I can play hardball, too. Believe me, I learned from the best."

  He snorted, his face turning so red she almost expected steam to come out of those ears. She clenched her fists, fingernails biting into her palms. She'd never stood up against her father this hard and fast never had him this angry at her. And she feare
d that if he didn't cave soon, she would. So help her, she didn't want to, but this was her pop. And she was his little girl. And maybe that made her a sap, but she didn't want her father mad at her.

  Seconds ticked by, and then she watched in relief as the color drained from his face. His mouth was firm, his eyes narrow, but he nodded. "All right, Princess. You can stay on as manager. For now."

  She nodded, not quite trusting her mouth to form words.

  "But you're making a mistake. The cowboy doesn't love you. He's using you. And you'll figure it out soon enough."

  "I assure you," Roman said, his voice, low and dangerous, coming from behind her, "that the cowboy loves her very much."

  The cowboy in question had come in quietly through the back door, and had stood in the doorway, his temper flaring as he listened to Marv Spinelli browbeat his daughter. Now he stepped forward, sliding his arm around Julia's shoulders and pulling her close. He wanted to give her his strength, and as he held her, he felt her body relax against his.

  He kissed the top of her head, then looked up to meet Marv's stormy brown eyes. "If anyone is making a mistake here, Mr. Spinelli," he continued, "it's you."

  * * *

  Roman had a lot of things in his life to be proud of. Being named high school valedictorian. Making Eagle Scout. Negotiating successful business deals. Winning the love of a beautiful woman.

  At the moment, though, he was most proud of not strangling his fiancee's father. And, frankly, he wasn't entirely sure if he was clinging to Julia to lend his support, or because if he let go, he'd flatten her pig of a father.

  He'd watched as Marv Spinelli had fired his daughter, for no other reason than that she was engaged to the enemy, and then proceeded to insult both Julia and Roman. All because of some damn dispute over a building that should have been forgotten years ago.

  A wave of cold shame washed over him because he hadn't forgotten. He'd come here not only to support Julia, but also itching for a fight because some fifteen-odd years ago, Marv had bought this plot of land, slapped up an oversized count sheep for cheap sign, and made Robert Sonntag look like a fool. Marv Spinelli had gotten the last word, but he was still carrying a chip on his shoulder. And Roman had come here intending to knock it off.

  But no more. He'd seen the hurt in Julia's eyes when her father'd lashed out from the past. Roman wasn't about to add to her pain.

  Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then took his arm from around her shoulders. He stepped forward, hand extended. "Mr. Spinelli, sir. It's good to meet you. I'm Roman Sonntag."

  "I figured as much," Marv said, ignoring Roman's hand.

  Roman slipped his arm smoothly back around Julia, purposefully not reacting to Marv's slight and also subtly reinforcing the simple fact that Julia belonged with him. "You're going to have to refresh my memory, sir," he said, keeping his voice even and his eyes on Marv. "Have we ever met?"

  Marv's eyes narrowed, as if he was looking for an angle. Smart man, since that's exactly what Roman was doing. "No, cowboy," he finally said. "We haven't. But that doesn't mean I don't know you. Know what you did. What all of you did. And," he added with a pointed look toward Julia, "what you're doing now."

  Roman nodded. So much for civility, but at least the cards were on the table. "What I'm doing is marrying your daughter. Now . Not fifteen years ago. And we'd like your blessing."

  Beside him, Julia stiffened. Roman felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if he'd taken it too far, but there was no turning back now.

  Marv took a step forward, his expression belligerent. "Don't play games with me, cowboy."

  "I wouldn't dream of it."

  "Don't bullshit me, boy. Your family is all about games."

  Roman tensed, fearing that there was no way to avoid rehashing the past, and at the same time not wanting to get into it. Not with Julia standing right there. But then Marv's cell phone rang, and Roman watched the mental debate as Spinelli tried to decide if he was going to go a round with Roman or tend to business.

  Business won out. He spared Roman one hard glance, then moved to the far side of the lobby, his phone pressed to his ear, a slick ducktail bobbing as he nodded in time with the conversation. "What's that? Yeah? Who called? Him, no, I ain't interested in talking to him. Who else? Oh, really?" He turned, his eyes softening as he looked at Julia, then going hard as his gaze landed on Roman. "Yeah, he's a good one, all right. Him, you give my cell number. Tell him to call me. We got stuff to talk about."

  He snapped the phone closed and flashed a smile that seemed to scream victory. For absolutely no reason, Roman got a chill. "Good news, sir?" he asked.

  "The best, boy." Marv pointed a finger at Julia. "And don't think we're through, Princess. Your sister may have checked your numbers, but you can bet your pretty little ass that I'm going to check your operations. I know the way you think, sweetheart, and I ain't putting up with no frivolous, pansy-ass stuff. Not at my motel."

  "Pop, I"

  "Don't start with me, little girl."

  "Mr. Spinelli." Roman's tone was like ice, but his blood was fire. He took a step forward, stopping only when Julia's grip tightened on his arm, pulling him back.

  "Think you can threaten me, boy? This here's my business, and I'm gonna see it's run the right way."

  Marv dug his hand into a bowl of potpourri, let the dried flowers fall. "How much you got invested in this kind of froufrou nonsense, huh, Princess? You don't look at the bottom line, babydoll, you ain't gonna make it." He pointed a finger at Roman. "Romeo there knows it, too."

  Julia's eyes were wide and dewy. Roman had the feeling she was working hard not to blink, afraid of releasing tears. He fisted his hand, wanting to pound on the man who'd so cavalierly made her cry.

  The frail blonde who'd been parked on the natty sofa rose before he had the chance to lash out. She moved quickly, tottering across the lobby toward Marv on four-inch heels, a tight pink skirt stuck like plastic wrap to her thighs. Myrna , he thought. Julia's mother.

  "Come on, Marv, honey," she said, her hand on his arm. "It's been a long trip, and I think we both need a drink and a nap."

  "I'm not"

  "Of course you're not," she said. "But I am. Now come on with me. Julia and her man aren't going nowhere. Whatever needs to be said can wait."

  "Mom" Julia said, her voice soft beside him.

  "Don't worry about us," Myrna said. "We'll get our key from Ford."

  "It's Carter, Mom."

  Myrna just waved. "I knew it was one of them." She headed out of the room, steering Marv along with her.

  "This isn't over," Marv muttered from the threshold.

  "No one thinks it is," Myrna said. But she turned then and looked at Roman. Beamed at him, actually. "It's very nice to meet you," she said. And Roman knew that, in Myrna at least, he had an ally.

  "Well," Julia said brightly the moment they disappeared from view, "that certainly went well."

  "Actually, it went better than I'd expected."

  She looked up at him, her beautiful face showing both strain and bafflement. "You've got to be kidding. He hates you. He wants to ship me back to New Jersey. And he's going to do everything he can to sabotage our wedding."

  Roman pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, wishing he could make it all better for her. "It's not all perfect, I'll admit"

  She snorted, the amusement in her eyes lifting his heart just a little.

  "but I still consider the morning a success. I didn't hit your father," he added, before she could argue some more. "Nor did he hit me. You still have your job. Your parents have left us alone, at least for the moment. And," he added, "your mother is on our side. Or, at least, she's on your side."

  "Yeah, that was weird. Very not like my mom to step in when Pop's in a snit."

  "Maybe their relationship is evolving."

  That seemed to wipe away the last of her sour mood, and she laughed outright. "Yeah, and maybe Marv is going to pick up the phone and invite your dad over for a beer."
/>   "All right," he conceded, "maybe your parents' re-lationship hasn't changed. Maybe she's always been able to handle your father."

  "Myrna? Get real."

  "I am. Relationships are funny business. And they've been together a long time. Your father's a domineering"

  "Jerk."

  "I was going to say 'man,' but 'jerk' works, too. At any rate, it's natural that your mom's personality fades a bit into the background. But there must be some give-and-take between them or else they wouldn't have lasted this long. Don't you think?"

  She frowned, but he could see her considering the possibility. "I guess it's a little like us, maybe."

  He took the hand she offered, squeezed it. "How so?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "Nobody seems to understand what's between us. Even Syd and Viv, my sister and my very best friend. They just saw what they wanted to see, what they expected. It took a while for them to believe that we're really in love. And even now, I don't think they understand the full of it. They believe, but they don't really know."

  "How could they?" he asked. "We're the only ones who can. For that matter, we're the only ones who need to."

  She made a face. "It would help if my father did."

  "I'd just as soon keep your father out from between the two of us, if it's all the same to you."

  As he'd hoped, she laughed, and the mood lifted a little more. "By the way," he went on, wanting to keep the mood light, "I've never actually seen a pink limo with longhorns before. If nothing else, I can thank your father for expanding my horizons."

  "It's still out there?" She looked at him with such distress that he had to laugh. "I thought Pop had sent it back to Austin." She pressed her fingers to her temples and massaged there for a moment. "It was bad enough that he rolled into town in that thing, but if he's going to use it as his regular form of transportation, then I'm going to be a laughingstock."

  "No," Roman said, "your father is."

  "Same thing," she muttered, looking absolutely miserable. But she squared her shoulders and headed toward the door.

  He followed as she headed into the late afternoon heat, then tapped at the glass.