Mal ignored that. “What does she want?”
Taryn made a disgruntled noise. “Come on, boss! Tell us!”
“You want me to keep her waiting?” Mal asked with a quirked brow.
That seemed to shake Taryn. “Why are you still standing here, woman? Go! Go, go, go!”
Mal shook her head and passed both of them on the way to the front, knowing they would listen at the door. There was only one thing that her cousin could possibly want with her at this point, enough to make her take the trip from Tennessee to Denver without some massive social event taking place. Despite what her assistants and pretty much everyone else thought, Mal did follow some of the celebrity gossip. And what was being dubbed “America’s Royal Wedding” was destined to be the most sought-after event since the actual Royal Wedding.
Wealth and consequence could get people pretty far, but when Southern charm and family values came into play, everything was a whole new ball game. No one got invitations to these things. No one. When Tennessee’s favorite daughter married North Carolina’s pride and joy, the very few people with invitations would be witness to one of the rarest and most elite spectacles in recent history.
Mal had wondered faintly if she would receive an invitation. She might not have been close with her father’s side of the family anymore, but they had been as thick as thieves back in the day. Besides, family meant something to the Hudsons. Always had, always would.
The question remained whether or not Mal would have accepted the hypothetical invitation.
She glanced into the waiting area and saw Jenna sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs, looking every bit like Carrie Underwood’s doppelganger. Her unnaturally perfect, but shockingly natural, blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her long, lean legs were crossed, bouncing anxiously. Just as they had when she was a kid.
Mal smirked at that. Despite what people said about Jenna Hudson—mainly accusations that she was a fake—Mal knew that Jenna’s perfection was genuine. She was rare that way. Or, at least, she used to be. She could be anybody now.
“Jenna?” Mal said softly as she entered the room fully.
Jenna turned to face her, her smile revealing blindingly white teeth. “Mal!” she squealed, getting to her feet. “Oh my gosh, you look so good!” Her twang sounded heavy to Mal’s ears, reminding her yet again how long it had been since she’d been down to Tennessee.
It was clear that Jenna was going for a hug, but Mal wasn’t ready for that yet. “So do you,” Mal replied with a smile, intentionally not approaching. “Nice to know they don’t photoshop you.”
Jenna’s smile faded, and Mal wanted to kick herself. It wasn’t Jenna’s fault she was a celebrity. All she had done was date a guy from high school who went on to become a country star. She’d been on his arm at events, and he hadn’t liked the fact that she had become more popular than he had. Even after he broke it off, Jenna had attracted the media instead of him. That was probably one of the reasons he was in rehab now.
Mal gestured to the chairs, and she and Jenna sat.
“It’s good to see you,” Jenna said softly, her smile just as soft. “What’s it been, ten years?”
“Roughly,” Mal replied. She’d visited after graduating high school, considering that her Uncle Drake, Jenna’s father, had been intent on funding college for her. Checking in with her godfather had seemed appropriate at the time, even if she didn’t know him as well as she used to.
Jenna looked at her for a long moment. She shifted, crossed and uncrossed her legs, and sighed. “Okay, I know you want to know why I’m here.”
Mal smirked. For all her blonde hair, Jenna wasn’t an idiot. “True.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard about my wedding in May,” Jenna said, pushing back an invisible strand of hair, her extraordinary diamond solitaire glinting briefly.
“I have,” Mal replied slowly, shifting herself. “But the details are under wraps.”
A thin smile appeared on Jenna’s face. “That’s on purpose. We’re going even smaller than people think. Tom and I have lots of friends, but most of them are ‘friends,’” she said as she rolled her eyes and used her fingers to quote the word. “And we’re tired of pretending. I can’t get away from it completely, but we can cut down on it. So, the location is top secret, and the invitations are strictly family, close friends, and significant people in our lives.”
“And the press is gonna go for that?” Mal asked in disbelief. With how many tabloids and magazine covers that plastered pictures of Jenna whenever they could, Mal had a hard time believing that they would go along with that. Jenna was worth a mint every time they could snag a picture or story about her. No sane person in the media world would bypass the chance to sneak a glimpse of her wedding.
Jenna shrugged. “They’d better. None of them are coming.”
Mal’s jaw dropped, and her Rocketdogs skidded on the tile floor. “No press?”
Jenna smirked and shook her head. “Not a single reporter. No magazine access, no TV coverage, and no famous people.” She rolled her eyes. “Except for us.”
Mal sat back heavily against her chair, impressed by the implications, if it worked. “How’d you manage that?”
“I know people now,” Jenna said with a grin. “But we also promised the press something they can report on for a while.”
Something in her cousin’s voice sent a warning signal to Mal’s brain. “What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.
Jenna tapped the table between them lightly in an absent rhythm. “Post-wedding access to a week-long prewedding extravaganza involving the wedding party and immediate family. Exclusive photos from one official camera approved by me. If they agree, and there are no paparazzi, they get the photos and interviews with guests after the wedding. If they don’t, they get the secondhand version and the blurry selfies that Aunt Joni posts on her blog.”