Take On Me

Sadie turned from contemplating Claudia’s dark beauty to see that Grace had pulled on her dress and stepped into her stiletto heels. Red silk outlined her classic hourglass figure, zooming in dramatically at her tiny waist, and then out again for her fantastic, sexy hips. She looked like Veronica Lake and Betty Grable and Marilyn Monroe, all rolled into one sexy, hot mama.

“Hubba, hubba.” Sadie hooted approvingly.

Grace blushed a fiery red to match the dress. “I look like an overcooked hot dog,” she said gruffly. “If one of these seams gives, duck for cover.”

Sadie laughed and shook her head. They looked beautiful. Red had been the ideal choice for both of them, and the classy dress set off their different figures to perfection.

“I think we need more champagne,” she said, moving across to where the last bottle rested on ice. She and Grace had already guzzled a whole bottle while their hair and makeup was being done—Claudia being a staunch teetotaler—but Sadie figured the alcohol would help settle her growing nerves.

She was getting married! Her mind turned briefly to Greg Sinclair, the handsome blond man she would soon call husband. She wondered what he was doing, how he was feeling. Was he as nervous-excited as she was? Would it be cheating to call him before the wedding?

Resisting the temptation to jinx things by making a quick phone call, Sadie concentrated on working the cork loose from the champagne bottle as Claudia and Grace put the finishing touches on their hair and makeup.

She had to stifle a smile as she heard Claudia bossily telling Grace to not even think about putting on the heavy black-framed retro glasses she habitually wore.

“Banned from the wedding,” Claudia announced firmly.

She was going to make a great producer on Ocean Boulevard, Sadie knew. She sighed happily to herself as she poured out the champagne. Her life was so good right now. It had been cool enough working with Grace for the past two years as script producer to her script editor on Ocean Boulevard, the daytime soap that currently consumed her working hours, but now Claudia would be joining them as producer of the show. It didn’t get much better—doing something she loved for a living with her two closest friends by her side. And, in under an hour’s time, she would be married to an amazing, funny, clever, gorgeous man.

“Pinch me, quick,” she said to Grace as her friend came over to collect a glass of champagne.

“Sure,” Grace said, obliging with a gentle nip on Sadie’s arm. “Better?”

Sadie grinned and slid an arm around her friend’s waist. “Where would I be without you guys?”

Claudia joined them, and she slid an arm around her waist, too. Across the room, the mirror reflected their images back at them and Sadie couldn’t help smiling. What a mismatched set—Claudia the pocket-rocket, string-bean old her and Grace the va-voom vamp.

“I love you guys. Thanks so much for doing this with me,” she said.

Claudia and Grace squeezed their arms tighter around her waist, and she had to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds and blink like crazy to avoid crying.

“Suck ’em back in, Sadie—no brides with panda eyes on our shift,” Claudia said encouragingly.

Sadie laughed, the humor helping to restore her equilibrium. Bang on time, the doorbell rang.

“God, the car’s here already,” she said, her nerves ratcheting up a notch.

The next five minutes were spent in a bustle of activity as they gathered all the items Grace and Claudia considered necessary to maintaining her appearance through the ceremony and reception—including the rest of the bottle of champagne. Her bridesmaids spent another five minutes out in the street discussing the best way for Sadie to sit on her skirt, until finally Sadie stepped past them and squished herself into the seat.

“Easy,” she said when they stared at her, scandalized.

The church was a ten-minute drive away, and she sat back and tried to let the sunny blue sky soothe her. It was useless, however—her brain was like a hamster on a wheel. What if she forgot her vows? She’d always been hopeless at remembering lines. And what if she tripped when she walked up the aisle and her skirt flipped up and—God! Had she even remembered to put underwear on? She clapped a hand to her hip, but was unable to feel anything through all the layers of fabric.

She turned to Claudia on her right. “Did I put underwear on? Can you remember?” she asked urgently.

Claudia patted her arm reassuringly. “You need to stop thinking, sweetie,” she said firmly.

Sadie opened her mouth to protest, then her sense of humor caught up with her and she collapsed into laughter.

Which was why she almost missed seeing her uncle Gus standing out front of the church, frantically waving the driver on as they approached. At the last minute, however, as the car swept past the church, she registered the formally dressed man gyrating like a maniac on the sidewalk.

Swiveling in her seat, she craned her neck to look out the rear window and confirm it really was Gus, and that they really had driven straight past the church.

“Um…hello?” she said, leaning forward to tap on the glass dividing the back of the limo from the driver. “Wasn’t that the church back there?”

“Yeah, but we got waved on. I’m going to do a lap,” the driver explained.

Sadie sat back with a thump and stared first at Claudia and then Grace.

“What the hell?” she finally asked.

Both her friends were looking equally confused.

“Maybe they’re waiting on something,” Grace suggested.

Sadie bit her lip. A horrible, dark thought slithered into her mind and she tried not to look in its direction. It was useless, however—she worked on a daytime soap. She’d written or helped plot this scene too many times over the years. Happy bride, perfect day, laughter—then disaster. Dead groom. Groom gravely ill due to car accident. Revolt in groom’s far-off European principality—she’d done them all over the years.

“Can we go back, please?” she asked the driver anxiously. “I don’t want to do a lap of the church.”

“But—” the driver objected.

“You heard the bride. Turn the car around,” Claudia ordered, her producer’s voice firmly in place.

Sighing audibly, the driver spun the wheel and the car turned back toward the church.

As they approached from the opposite direction, Sadie could see her uncle had been joined by her pale-faced aunt, Martha. His shoulders were slumped and he shook his head as they discussed something intently.

“Oh shit,” she whispered under her breath. Another series of worst-case scenarios flitted across her mind: groom runs off with best friend. Bomb threat on church. Groom turns out to be bride’s secret brother.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I know it’s hard to rein in that imagination of yours because of what we do for a living, but this is not Ocean Boulevard,” Grace said firmly. “It’s probably something lame like the priest has had too much altar wine, or Greg’s allergic to his boutonniere.”

Sadie took a deep breath and forced herself to let go of the awful, over-the-top scenarios racing across her mind. Grace was right. She was overreacting. She wouldn’t go borrowing trouble—she’d simply face whatever was wrong and deal with it.

Her uncle must have heard the car, because he turned and frowned as the limo came to a halt.

Despite her vow to herself, Sadie leaned across Claudia to push the door open, unable to wait for the chauffeur to do it. Claudia slid out instantly, turning to help Sadie drag herself and her silk train from the car. The click of heels on the pavement told her that Grace was circling the car from the other side, but all Sadie’s attention was on Gus.

“What’s going on?” she asked. She was clutching her bouquet in a death grip, her knuckles white.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Gus said, and Sadie knew then, without a doubt, that she was about to have a Soap Wedding.

Behind her, she heard Grace’s swift, shocked intake of breath, and Claudia muttered a four-letter word.

“He’s not here?” Sadie guessed, taking a stab at which soap cliché she was about to get sucked into. Of course, she could rule out a few right from the start. To her knowledge, Greg was not the prince of some far-flung European country. And she was pretty sure he wasn’t her brother, given that he was the spitting image of his father. Also, her two best friends in all the world were standing behind her, so neither of them had run off with him.

“He had a note delivered,” Martha said, handing over a plain letter-size envelope.

Sadie stared down at it for a long moment before passing her bouquet to Grace. Her hands were trembling as she slid a finger beneath the seal and tore the envelope open. There was a single piece of paper inside. Greg had gone to the trouble of printing it, she saw, rather than writing it by hand. She had a flash of him mulling over the composition of the letter on his notebook computer, adding and deleting words as he pondered how best to break it to her. He obviously hadn’t mulled for too long, however. The note was devastatingly short.