The Wedding Song Page 9

  The question was, would the one woman who mattered most of all be there?

  Milo tugged on his leash as they rounded the corner to the coffee shop and Tyce knew Sebastian must have arrived. Whitney’s brother didn’t meet them every morning, but when he did, he always played with the little dog.

  The teenager had filled out over the past couple of months and was more confident. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been talking about a girl at school he liked, but he was worried because they ran with different crowds. Tyce had advised him not to worry about their differences and just ask her out to see if they clicked.

  After all, he and Whitney had seemed so different on the surface. But they’d been perfect together anyway.

  “Hey, Sebastian, are you looking forward to the show?”

  Whitney’s brother nodded, crouching to pet Milo. “It’s going to be great.”

  “You aren’t nervous?” Tyce asked, with a smile.

  “Of course not,” Sebastian said, right on cue. “You?”

  Tyce dutifully shook his head. Then they both laughed. “We are such bad liars.” He had to know, “Who do you have coming?”

  “Well, there’s my parents, and Aunt Marge—”

  “Tell her we’re not playing anything from Gone With the Wind,” Tyce interrupted.

  “I already did. Oh, and Michelle said she would come too.”

  “This is the girl you were going to ask out? The one from your math class?”

  Sebastian nodded. “She didn’t seem as impressed by the whole guitar thing as I thought she’d be, but she said yes anyway.”

  “That’s good,” Tyce said.

  “I guess.”

  “It means she’s actually into you, not just excited that you’re in a band. And, trust me, sometimes having a little patience is the best way to go with things.”

  Or a lot of patience, in his case.

  “Oh, and I also sent a copy of the CD over to Whitney,” Sebastian said with a careful look at Tyce, “but I doubt she’ll be able to come all the way from Colorado.”

  * * *

  Trying to take a cat on an airplane at short notice was anything but straightforward.

  “As I’m sure you know, ma’am,” Steve, the manager at the check in desk, said, “animals often get quite distressed in flight and—”

  “Does Clementine look distressed to you?” Whitney said, cutting him off as she held up the travel bag, where her cat was currently fast asleep. She needed to get to San Francisco, she wasn’t about to leave Clementine in the middle of an airport, and she would do whatever it took to get both of them on a plane in time.

  “Actually,” Steve said, “because we didn’t receive notification that there would be an animal on board, the hold isn’t pressurized, so—”

  “So Clementine can’t go down there unless you’re expecting her to hold her breath for upwards of a thousand miles,” Whitney said in a voice that vibrated with her attempt at remaining patient. “I have copies of the paperwork where I notified the airline right here.”

  She fished out printouts of the relevant screens from inside her jacket. If running the family business had taught her one thing, it was to always have copies of everything. She put them down in front of the check-in desk manager, who looked at them dismissively.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding anything but sorry, “but I will have to abide by what I see in our system. And there is definitely nothing here about a cat.”

  Ordinarily, Whitney wouldn’t have done what she was about to do, but she couldn’t afford to miss this flight. She just couldn’t.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Sebastian.

  Sure, a small voice in the back of her head said. He’s the only person you’re thinking about.

  She took out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts list until she found the number for her secretary. Technically, Olivia was Annette’s secretary now, and Whitney still got occasional emails from each of them complaining about the other, but she hoped that Olivia would still feel enough loyalty towards her to help her out. After all, aside from leaving her with her cousin, she thought she’d been a pretty good boss.

  “Olivia, hi, it’s me. Sorry to call you up out of the blue like this. Are you at the office? Annette has you doing what? Look, could I ask a favor? We did business with a small airline a while back. I need the private number for Guy Jupp. You have it? That’s great. Thanks.”

  Whitney punched in the number while watching Steve-the-manager’s face. He seemed to be caught between a mixture of disbelief, annoyance, and continued arrogance, secure in his position behind his desk.

  “Hi, Guy,” Whitney said, “This is Whitney Banning. I don’t know if you remember me?”

  “Of course I remember you! That deal we did with you on transport was one of the best things to happen to my business, and I had a great time when you and Kenneth came over for dinner. How is he?”

  “He’s fine,” Whitney assured him. “I hate to do this, but I’m having a problem getting on one of your flights.”

  “If it’s full it might be tricky—”

  “It isn’t full. I actually have a ticket. It’s just that they won’t let me take my cat, Clementine, on board, even though I have the paperwork.” She hadn’t forgotten that when she and Kenneth had gone for dinner at Guy’s house, there had been three large Persian cats sprawled all over the furniture.

  “Could you please hand me over to the representative you’ve been speaking with, Whitney?”

  She smiled as she took the phone from her ear, mostly because Steve the manager was still looking at her like she was crazy. “It’s for you.”

  “Mr. Jupp?” The man’s face paled considerably. “That’s right, sir.” Steve looked down at the paper with Whitney’s flight details. “Yes, I’m very sorry. I understand. Yes, of course, sir. Absolutely.” He handed her phone back. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Ms. Banning. If you’d like to go through to the first class departure lounge, we’ll call you when your flight is ready to board. In the meantime, Mr. Jupp has instructed me that if you want anything, you only have to say the word.”

  “Thank you, Steve.” She picked up Clementine and carried her over to the waiting area just as another woman walked into the lounge, moving to sit next to her.

  The woman's stark white hair was elegantly cut, while the handbag she placed next to her was designer. “Well done on handling the dictator at check in,” the newcomer said. She extended a hand. “I’m Yvette Markston.”

  Whitney knew that name, even if she’d never met the woman personally. “Whitney Banning.”

  “I know who you are. You look just like Marge did at your age.”

  “You know my aunt?”

  “We meet occasionally. Charity events, usually. She speaks very highly of you. So tell me, what is so important that it has you pulling out the stops to get onto the plane?”

  “My brother is playing in a band and they’re having the release party for their album. I haven’t seen him for months and I want to surprise him.”

  “Have you been doing business in Colorado?”

  “No,” Whitney said, slightly defensively, “I’m not working for Banning Incorporated anymore. I’ve been training to be a veterinarian. Colorado has one of the best schools in the country for horses. And,” she said, unable to stop the words from coming, “this way there are no distractions. And no one—” She cut herself off. “I mean, nothing to keep me from following my dream.”

  “Ah, distractions.” Yvette’s lips curved up into a small smile. “I used to have my fair share of ‘distractions’ when I was a beautiful young girl like you.” She raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. “What’s his name?”

  “I’m not with anyone,” Whitney said quickly.

  Too quickly.

  “No?”

  But it wasn’t true. She and Tyce hadn’t made any promises to each other, but he was still there with her, in her heart. The same way he always had been, right from t
heir first night together five years ago.

  “I left him to find out what it was I really wanted,” she finally admitted.

  “And do you have an answer?”

  “Sometimes I think I do,” Whitney said in a soft voice. “But then, I don’t. All I know is that I miss him. Terribly.”

  The other woman patted her arm. “Just look at that aunt of yours. A brand new husband she adores, a thriving business, and still she has time for her friends and for the causes that she believes in. Do you think she feels she has to choose?” Yvette didn’t wait for her answer. “There is little worse in life than regrets. If you know what you want, reach out for it. Fight for it, whether it’s your family, or your choice of career, or love.”

  “And if I don’t know what I want?” Whitney asked.

  “Then work it out.” It was a no-nonsense answer, not meant to give offense. “Though I think you do know, or you wouldn’t have put so much effort into getting on this plane, would you?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Setting up for the album launch at the Rose Chalet felt like a family affair. Julie and Andrew came early with several large trays full of food. Phoebe put a dozen rock-and-roll inspired arrangements of flowers around the main room, then spent the rest of her time with Patrick, helping him decorate the main hall for the evening.

  What Tyce wouldn’t give to have Whitney there beside him, too.

  * * *

  The flight was going well so far. No turbulence and Clementine had behaved herself in her carrier bag. The cabin crew had gone out of their way to be courteous and friendly, so either they all liked cats, or news of what had happened at the check-in desk had spread quickly.

  Whitney didn’t want to be the ex-executive who bullied people until she got what she wanted. Other people’s feelings mattered.

  Except…what she wanted mattered, too. And she’d forgotten that for so long.

  For too long.

  * * *

  Tyce heard the rumble of thunder as the clouds rolled in. It wasn’t the best weather for a party, but they were all going to be indoors. Rose began to pull shutters closed to keep the rain out, and RJ was there to help her, the way he always was.

  Tyce started to lend a hand, but RJ shook his head. “We’ve got this under control. All you should be thinking about right now is putting on a great show.”

  Rose’s phone rang and she put it to her ear. “Donovan? Really, you can’t? Okay. I understand.” She frowned as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. “It looks like Donovan won’t be able to make it, Tyce. Between an emergency client and the weather...well, you know how things can be for him.”

  Yes, he knew exactly how things were with Rose’s fiancé. In any case, Donovan wasn’t the reason Tyce was keeping his eyes trained on the door.

  * * *

  Whitney looked at the sudden appearance of thick, gray clouds out her window, and held onto her arm rest while the plane shook with turbulence.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be approaching San Francisco shortly, but I regret to inform you that due to the severe weather conditions, we will have to wait a little longer than usual to land.”

  “No!” Whitney didn’t realize that she’d said it aloud, or quite how loud she’d said it, until one of the cabin crew rushed over to her.

  “It’s all right, Ms. Banning,” the young flight attendant said. “It isn’t anything serious. It might take a while longer than we were hoping, but we’ll get there.”

  Whitney wanted to tell the woman that she couldn’t wait, but she knew that wouldn’t do any good. She was stuck in the sky until it was safe to land.

  She checked her watch. How long would it be before Tyce’s show started?

  Could she still make it?

  * * *

  Tyce tapped his foot to the beat while the band warmed up. Sebastian broke off from the two-bar vamp they were working through to adjust his amplifier for controlled feedback. Guitarists were guitarists, no matter how young they were.

  Anne moved beside him, the many-layered fabric of her party dress seeming to float around her. “Isn’t it wonderful that everyone is here for your big moment? Rose, RJ, Phoebe, Julie, Patrick, Andrew, me. It’s just like one big happy Rose Chalet family.” But when she caught him looking at the entrance one more time, she gently asked, “Is everyone you’re waiting for here?”

  Tyce made himself smile at his friend. “Thanks for coming tonight, Anne.”

  He headed for the stage to start the show, Milo beside him every step of the way, as if realizing his owner needed him close by.

  * * *

  Whitney hurried through the terminal with Clementine mewing from within her carrier.

  “I know,” Whitney said as she rushed out into the rain, “you hate getting wet, but it’s for a good cause.”

  For Tyce...and for love.

  Unfortunately, there was a huge crowd of people waiting for taxis. For a few seconds Whitney waited along with them. But it didn’t take her long to realize that if she remained the polite, good girl she’d always been, she would definitely miss the show.

  She pushed her way through, ignoring the occasional outraged shout as she ducked into any space that presented itself and took full advantage of those moments when people heard Clementine complaining from the carrier. Moments later, she clambered into a taxi, just ahead of a businessman.

  “Hey!” he yelled as she closed the door on him.

  The cab driver scowled at her. “What do you think you’re doing, lady?”

  “Sorry, but I’m in a hurry. Do you know where the Rose Chalet is?”

  “The wedding place? Sure, I drive past it most days. But this isn’t your cab, and—”

  Whitney took out her purse. “I have two hundred dollars to give to you if you can get me there now.”

  “Two hundred dollars?” The driver looked at her in disbelief. “Are you serious? That’s a fifteen dollar fare, max.”

  “Completely serious. And I’d like you to drive as fast as you can without getting pulled over.”

  The cab driver smiled widely. “Lady, I never get pulled over. You’d better buckle up. And hold on tight to that cat.”

  * * *

  Tyce looked out over the crowd. He’d taken as long as he could with the sound check, but now that the Rose Chalet was full, he couldn’t wait any longer.

  There were his friends, Sebastian’s family, the girl Sebastian liked so much, the staff from the Rose Chalet, and strangers, too. Some were friends of friends, who had obviously been told about Tyce and his songs, and others were music journalists and bloggers who could make or break a new release.

  He stepped up to the microphone and was glad to feel the familiar joy of being on stage. He’d missed this.

  Tyce knew, deep within himself, that while Whitney might not be at his big comeback show, he wasn’t planning on giving up on his dreams again. Not on his dream of being a songwriter.

  And not on his dream of being with her.

  “I’d like to thank you all for coming here tonight,” Tyce said, then nodded to Al, the drummer, who counted them into the first song.

  * * *

  Whitney’s cab driver was named Lyle. She knew that because he liked to talk as he drove, the speed of the words running neck-and-neck with the speed of his driving.

  Currently, he was talking very fast indeed.

  “I had this one guy in the cab, he paid me just to go see the bridge, drive over it, and then turn around to go back to the airport. Then there was this other guy,” Lyle threw the car into a tight turn, “who paid me to just drive around for a whole afternoon, making stops, and I started to think he was a mafia hit man, but it turned out that he was a computer technician, and—”

  “Watch out for that red light!” Whitney gasped out, but her driver kept going, making it through the junction an instant before traffic started flowing through it the other way.

  “Relax,” he said with a quick glance i
nto the rearview mirror. “It was barely red for a second. Besides, your cat doesn’t seem to mind.”

  That was the strangest thing of all. Clementine was calmly sitting in her carrier, looking straight forward as though she were actually enjoying Lyle’s kamikaze driving style.

  “So what’s with the rush? If you’re going to the wedding place, does that mean you’re going there to get married? Or maybe you’re rushing to interrupt a wedding and win back the guy you love. It’s something like that, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said, her hands in a white knuckle grip on Clementine’s bag as she realized the full truth of her feelings for Tyce...and just how deep they ran. “It’s something like that.”

  * * *

  The music flowed. Tyce had seen this moment so many times in his mind’s eye, but the reality was better. So much better. The band was tight, Sebastian was wailing on the guitar whenever he got a solo, and the applause for Tyce's new songs grew louder and louder.

  Milo was sitting up on the stage, watching but thankfully not making any doggy attempts to sing along, and Tyce bent to scratch his ears.

  Then he straightened up and nodded to the band. “Guys, give me the stage for this one, would you?”

  * * *

  Whitney dumped her wad of twenties into Lyle’s hand, shoved open the taxi door, grabbed Clementine, and ran through the puddles for the door to the Rose Chalet. The lights were low and for a moment her heart squeezed tight as she thought she’d missed the show.

  But then, a single spotlight came up, highlighting Tyce with his guitar.