A slow grin crossed Anna’s face. “Well, I might have fucked up my life, but I am always good with the grand gestures for someone else. Let’s get buzzed and fix your shit.”
“Anna.” Caroline rebuked her gently.
“I said buzzed, not bombed. I’ll wait until the reception to get totally wasted.” Anna grinned to let Caroline know she was kidding, when, in all actuality, a good drunk sounded fantastic right about now.
* * *
The girls all gathered in the small antechamber in the hotel, designated for the bride and her party, putting the finishing touches on the fit-to-flared wedding dress and the Chantilly and Alencon lace, more to pass the time and cover up nerves than out of necessity. Of course, Caroline had had a designer out on the island to ensure the dress was perfect that day and make any alterations needed, so now they were just tweaking. The wedding guests waited in their seats on the front lawn and garden of the hotel overlooking the Gulf of Mexico as the string quartet played soothing music and waited for the bride to make her grand entrance. Caroline glowed, the silver accents gleaming like the lights of Hollywood that Anna had always wanted to be in front of. They raised their fluted glasses of champagne for a last toast.
“To Caroline, who never gave up on us, who brought us together in the first place and then again five years later when we had scattered. You’re our shepherd, our rock, our lighthouse. We love you and thank you for reminding us of friendship and love. May we never grow apart again, no matter where our lives take us.” Anna smiled through her tears. “Thank you for thinking of everyone else but yourself in a time when it should have been all about you. Oh, and, since I won the challenge, I’m taking the summer lamp to my house and will display it proudly for everyone to see.”
After a moment of stunned silence, giggles started, that moved into full out laughter until tears rolled down everyone’s cheeks. And not all of those tears were sadness.
Caroline’s father poked his head in the room. “Are you ready? You girls look beautiful.”
Caroline went to swipe her eyes, but Anna stopped her. “Absolutely not. We spent too much time on that makeup for you to ruin it, even if it is waterproof. Hang on.” She grabbed a tissue and dabbed at Caroline’s eyes. “There. Now, are we ready to get you married?”
* * *
Wyatt stood next to Ethan, Matthew’s best man, and watched Anna walk down the aisle, her ruby red dress skimming her curves perfectly. Her hair was arranged in a neat up-style that normally made him want to plunge his fingers into it and shake it out, but he wouldn’t be doing that tonight. Or ever again. He’d never feel her thick strands of hair through his fingertips, over his skin, trailing down his stomach. He would never have the right to kiss her, to touch her, to be with her as he wanted. No, he had to settle for watching her on television, onBlazing Passionsor whatever show she ended up on, and remember her in his dreams, when she had been his.
It would hurt for a long time—this clawing, wrenching pain in his gut—but it was the right thing to do. He might even have to see her again if Caroline kept her promise to make sure none of them lost touch with the group again. But he could handle it someday.
He watched Caroline and Matthew exchange vows, eyes locked on each other, as if they had only just fallen in love, not almost ten years ago. What would that be like, to be as in love ten years later, fifteen, twenty? At one time, he thought that person was Anna, but now he wondered if he’d ever find someone that he could love as he loved her. Too bad he would always come second in her life. She loved him. He didn’t doubt that. But her career, her dreams, her need to be on stage would always be first. He wasn’t enough for her, and he would eventually fade away, and he couldn’t live like that. It was better this way, better to end it now and let them both move on before it became too painful.
The exit march came on, and he met Anna in the center of the aisle. He held out his arm, and she took it, almost hesitantly. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice raspy.
She smiled and ducked her head, pleased by his compliment. “Thank you. You clean up nicely too, Wyatt.”
But it was still awkward. They only had a few more obligations, and then they could part ways, start the healing. Pictures, the entrance into the hall, the first dance. Not so much in the overall scheme of things. He’d survive. He’d survived losing her once. He could do it again. Only this time, he feared his whole heart would go with her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The wedding had worn on Anna’s last nerve, dancing a tango on it until it was a worn nub about to break. She and Wyatt had been polite and distant, as acquaintances would be, not former lovers, and it twisted her up inside. Early Sunday morning, Anna slipped away to the ferry with Delaney and headed for California and her life. Coming home, she had been confronted with a crowd of paparazzi who bombarded her with questions about the recent news stories, implying she had paid the waitress and owner for their stories, and staged the Whitby Island photo ops. She ignored them and went inside to spend the next three days, crying and mourning the loss of her love. But on Wednesday, she pulled herself up, cleaned up and met with her agent to prepare for the audition.
Early Thursday, she jetted off to the Big Apple, hoping to make a good impression in the audition to get the final nod. She made her way to the small theater where the rehearsals were going to take place and met with the producers and director for the show. At the entrance to the theater, a crowd of media waited, cameras at the ready. As soon as they saw her, they mobbed her with questions and comments about Derek Harper,Blazing Passions, her time on Whitby, and the play.
Fury pulsed deep inside Anna, but she pasted on a tight smile and pushed through the crowd, muttering, “No comment.”
Finally, one reporter said, “Come on, Anna, stop being such a bitch. You loved us when we put you on top. Now you’re too good for us?”
She froze in place, and time slowed to a halt. Silence fell, even on the busy New York street. She slowly turned, and whatever they saw on her face made the reporters all take a collective step back, wary expressions on their own faces. “I never asked for you to invade my every waking moment, my privacy, my life. I gave you everything you asked for—access to interviews, advanced knowledge of my itinerary, and any scoop I had. And yet, you want more? When will it be enough, or will it ever be enough for you vultures?”
The reporters stared at her in shock, no video cameras recording or flashing. She glanced to the side to see a few of the actors for the show a few feet away, scowling at her and the crowd. She threw her hobo bag over her shoulder and hurried inside, alternately cursing her temper and praying she hadn’t just screwed the pooch with her blow-up.
A lackey met her in the foyer and escorted her to the pit where the producers and director waited to talk with her. They chatted idly for a bit about her background, her work in the theater, and her interests. Meanwhile, some of the actors already hired had arrived and were gathered in groups working on lines, choreography or just getting to know each other.
One of the producers noted her interest in the groups. “Sorry, we have them all here. We had expected to have our final selection for the lead already made, but we are still deciding. So, we started rehearsals for the other parts to keep us on schedule. We may have you run lines with some of the other roles, if that’s okay.”
Anna shrugged. “That’s fine.”
A vague sense of disquiet lurked under her skin, chafed at her while she listened and made small talk. She had come to New York for a fresh start, but the paparazzi had followed her. Would that change after a while? She could already see the looks she was getting from her fellow cast mates, and it wasn’t friendly. Whether that was because of her antics outside or her previous role, Anna didn’t know. But she wondered if she could outrun her past.
She froze there for a moment. Was that what she was doing? Running away again? Caroline had accused her of running away five years ago. Wyatt said she ran from them and their problems, too. Was this how Anna dealt with her problems, leave them in the rearview mirror and move on? What did that solve? Nothing. And was she any happier by doing that? Did anything change? Absolutely not. Would New York really make her any happier than California, or was she trading one place for another?
She must have been frozen there for quite some time, oblivious to the comments around her, because one of the producers rested a hand on her arm gently. “Anna? Are you okay? Are you considering our offer?”
“Offer?” she repeated dumbly, realizing she had zoned out for a lot longer than she had expected.