“How long are we talking?” I asked, finally coming to my senses. “I mean, how long will he be on the island?”
“We’re coming down in Rob’s car tomorrow, and the guys will stay till the wedding. Now, we won’t need a place for all of that time. Rob’s dad has a yacht, and the groomsmen wanted to take a little fishing trip a few days before the wedding. In fact, my ladies-in-waiting are coming to the island a couple of days before the ceremony too. We’ll be staying in a condo that I’ve rented. That way we’ll all be close by for the big day. But I’m worried about hiding Brock from the media. He’s pretty hot right now.”
Um, yeah. Hot didn’t even begin to describe it. Try sizzling. Like the proverbial cat on a tin roof. I felt a heat wave coming on even now as I thought about his gorgeous brown eyes and chiseled features.
Just as quickly, my thoughts shifted to the real man of my dreams—D.J. Neeley—my boot-wearin’, country-western-song-lovin’ honey. My knight in shining armor.
Determined to stay focused, I made a suggestion. “Let’s put the guys up at the Tremont. Have you ever been there?”
“No.”
“I think you would like it. It’s a high-end hotel built in the 1800s. Reporters don’t often stay there because it’s a little on the pricey side. They usually pick one of the newer, bigger places on the seawall. If we put him at the Tremont, he’ll be close to the wedding facility—just a few blocks away, in fact.”
The realization suddenly had my head spinning. Brock Benson, king of Hollywood, would soon take up residence just a few blocks from both my home and my place of business. How could I keep my sister Sophia—his biggest fan—from shouting the news from one end of the island to the other?
That would be a tricky one. I tried to picture her reaction to Brock’s arrival. Surely she’d faint dead away at his feet. After all, she’d spent over an hour standing in line to get tickets to his latest movie, insisting she had to see it the very night it came out. The girl simply couldn’t get enough of the Hollywood hunk. Would her enthusiasm blow his cover? Just one more thing to add to my ever-growing list of things to worry about.
Just then, another call came through. Ooo, D.J. Switching over to him proved to be problematic, however, since Marian continued to talk a mile a minute about the role Brock Benson would play in her wedding. Several seconds into her chatter, I heard a click and realized D.J. must’ve given up. No problem. He would be here soon, anyway.
“We can talk more about all of this later, Bella,” Marian said with a giggle. “I just thought it was time to let you know all of this. Didn’t want to spring Brock on you at the last minute.”
“O-okay.”
We ended the call, and I looked down at the blueprint for the castle, feeling a little like Cinderella—caught in my ragged gown and completely unprepared for my night at the ball. The prince was coming! I’d better sweep out the chimney and measure my feet for glass slippers.
Ironically, the thought had no sooner flitted through my mind than the Lord—in his ever-perfect timing—shifted my attention out the window. I grinned as I saw D.J.’s truck pulling into the driveway. So much for Hollywood princes. Here was the real deal. And talk about a chariot! His Dodge 4x4 glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a true testament to the power of love. Well, love between a cowboy and his truck, anyway.
A wave of excitement washed over me. Oh, how I wanted to tell D.J. everything I’d just learned. Would I be breaking confidence to share the news of Brock’s impending arrival?
Hmm. A moral dilemma. I’d never been very good with those. Seemed I always just wanted to blab whatever I felt like blabbing with little thought to consequences. Maybe I’d better keep this particular story to myself until I’d prayed about it. On the other hand, I could trust D.J., even if I did decide to tell him. I’d never met a more trustworthy guy.
I paused to think about the first time I’d met D.J. Nee-ley. Due to a slight miscommunication—mine, not his—I’d thought he was a deejay. In fact, I’d hired him sight unseen to handle the music for the country-western themed wedding I was coordinating. Turned out he wasn’t a deejay. His name was D.J. He was Dwayne Neeley Jr. from Splendora, Texas. Thank goodness he knew a little something about country tunes. He’d swept in and saved the day, no doubt about that, and in the process had left a lasting impression on my heart. And I knew I could count on him to make the medieval reception spectacular as well, which was exactly why I needed to give him my undivided attention today.
I watched as my broad-shouldered cowboy ambled up the driveway. He’d just come from a construction job, so the sawdust-covered image in front of me made me smile. Sometimes I wondered if D.J. had sawdust in his blood. Not that I minded. He was a true-blue Southern gentleman. I’d take the sawdust any day. Besides, there was something about a Jesus-lovin’ cowboy that did my heart good. And talk about handsome! This boy was good-looking from the tips of his cowboy boots all the way up to that sandy-colored hair. Yep, real swashbuckling hero material here.
I paused a moment at the mirror in the front hallway to check my appearance before stepping out onto the porch. I’d pulled my long, dark curls into a ponytail today. Mama always frowned on that, but D.J. never seemed to mind. Of course, I’d have to look more professional tomorrow when I met with Rob and Marian, but I didn’t need to worry about that right now.
Once outside, I rushed into D.J.’s arms. He planted a tender kiss on my forehead, then tipped my chin with his index finger to look into my eyes.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said with that thick east-Texas drawl of his. “I’ve been missing you somethin’ fierce today, Bella Rossi.”
Okay, I loved the man. But I still had to laugh at the way he pronounced my name: Bay-luh. D.J. Neeley wasn’t the quintessential Italian boy my mama had planned for me to marry, but he was the man of my dreams, the one God had brought all the way to Galveston Island just for me.
After a little smooching on the front porch, I grabbed D.J.’s hand and pulled him inside. “You’ve got to look at this, baby.” Pointing at the blueprint for the castle, my heart raced with excitement. “Isn’t this the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Sure is.” He let out a whistle. “I still can’t believe that girl’s father is going to pay ten grand for this setup. You sure there’s room for it out back?”
“Yes. We measured today. There’s even a moat going in. It’s going to be amazing, just like a real medieval ball.”
“And you’ll be the princess.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“Hardly. It’s all about the bride on her special day. Not me.”
“Well, the bride wouldn’t be having a special day if not for you,” D.J. said. “So I’m stickin’ with what I said. You can be the damsel in distress, and I’ll be the one to rush in and rescue you. Your knight in shining armor. How’s that?”
“Sounds yummy. And fitting, since you’ve already rescued me a couple thousand times over the past three months.”
“I’d fight dragons for you, Bella.” He planted a convincing kiss on my lips, and I felt myself swoon. Oh, how I loved this man. He always knew just what to say—no fear of Hollywood writers going on strike here. My honey came up with his own lines.
“You hungry?” D.J. asked, forcing my thoughts back to the matters at hand. When I nodded, he said, “Let’s shake this place. I’m ready for some pizza. What about you?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” A little giggle escaped my throat as I reached for my key. With this guy by my side, I was ready for just about anything.
3
All or Nothing at All
D.J. and I prepared to leave for Parma John’s, my Uncle La-zarro’s restaurant … and my favorite place on Planet Earth, next to the wedding facility. A sense of pride came over me every time I thought about my uncle. He had come to Texas in the ’80s with the dream of opening a pizzeria. That dream had been fulfilled in short order. I’d come to Texas as a young girl, never knowing I would one day manage o
ur family’s wedding facility. And now it was the driving force of my life.
Funny how much Laz and I had in common, both of us willing to go the distance for the businesses we loved.
Our family has always lived by the old saying “Val più la pratica della grammatica.” Translation: “Experience is more important than theory.” I thought about that as D.J. and I drove to the restaurant. With every fiber of my being, I longed to prove myself to him and to others in the family by making a success out of the wedding facility. Sure, I’d only been managing Club Wed for three months, but what I lacked in experience, I made up for in enthusiasm. That had to count for something. Right? I would prove myself. But in the meantime, D.J. and I had some pizza to consume.
As we drove to Parma John’s, D.J. kept me entertained by telling a story about something going on at one of his construction sites. I did my best to stay focused but found it difficult. My thoughts kept gravitating to Brock Benson.
We arrived at Parma John’s less than five minutes after leaving Club Wed. The lunch crowd was already there in force, and the place was hopping. I searched through the mob of tourists for my best friend, Jenna, and found her at the counter, taking an order. She looked up at me with a crooked grin. “What’s up with you lovebirds? Hungry?”
“Yep.” D.J. and I spoke the word in unison, then laughed.
“It’s Wednesday.” She gave me a wink. I knew what that meant—the Simpatico Special, a large hand-tossed pizza split down the middle with toppings of choice on either side. D.J.’s first-ever trip to Parma John’s nearly three months ago was made on a Wednesday. We’d shared the half-and-half pizza then, and we’d share it now, for old time’s sake. Or maybe just because we were hungry. I was a little bit pepperoni. He was a little bit Canadian bacon. Simpatico!
“Gotta love Wednesdays,” D.J. said with a wink. Oy, what he could do to my heart!
I plopped down on an empty barstool and watched my best friend as she worked. Her freckles seemed more pronounced than ever this late in the summer. And she’d done something different with her hair. What was it? Ah, she must be experimenting with a lighter shade of red. Not bad, not bad. Then again, she was in love, and women in love tended to live on the edge.
Jenna chattered a mile a minute about her latest date with Bubba Neeley, D.J.’s younger brother. I tried to listen, really tried, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I was dying to tell her about Brock Benson, though I knew I shouldn’t. This would be a true test of my ability to keep a secret—keeping it from Jenna.
And Sophia. I turned as I heard my younger sister’s voice. She exited the kitchen with my older brother Nick on her heels.
Nick was the oldest of the Rossi siblings. He and his wife, Marcella, were parents to Deany-boy and Frankie, the world’s most obnoxious elementary-aged kids. And Sophia—God bless her—had watched those boys all summer long. No wonder she was in such a bad mood all the time.
Nick and Sophia were going at it, guns blazing. Nothing new there. D.J. and I watched their exchange with amusement. “
Those boys need some discipline, Nick,” Sophia said, putting her finger in his face. “You and Marcella let them walk all over you.”
He turned back to his work. “Marcella’s still having a lot of morning sickness. This pregnancy has been harder on her than the last two.”
I paused to think about his words. My sister-in-law was expecting a baby in the early spring. Everyone in the family was praying for a girl this time around. Not that we didn’t love the boys, but man, were they ever a handful!
“She’s too tired to spend a lot of time disciplining right now,” Nick said. “And I’m overworked. Besides, what difference does it make? School has started again. They’ll be fine.”
D.J. snorted and I jabbed him with my elbow.
The tips of Sophia’s ears turned red, a sure sign she was about to blow. “Deany-boy’s teacher is a friend of mine, and she’s ready to yank her hair out after only a few weeks. That kid pulls too many pranks.”
“Boys will be boys.” Nick shrugged and then joined Laz in the kitchen. He nodded in our direction as he passed by.
D.J. managed to keep his thoughts inside his head. I had to wonder if my honey was mesmerized by my family … or horrified. He never commented on their heated conversations, always smiled instead. I knew for a fact that the Rossis were the polar opposite of his clan out in the piney woods of east Texas. The Neeleys doted on each other round the clock and never raised their voices. That I knew of, anyway.
Lord, I know it’s possible. Could some of that spill over on my family?
Just then, my younger brother Joey passed by me on his way to wait on a table. He paused to give me a kiss on the cheek and then shook D.J.’s hand. “What, no one offered you drinks?” He looked at the empty spot in front of us on the bar. “Want the usual?”
“Yep. I’ll take a Dr Pepper,” D.J. said with a nod.
“Same for me,” I added.
Within seconds there were two Dr Peppers on the bar. Just one more thing my sweetie and I had in common. With a wink, Joey disappeared in the crowd.
Thank you, Lord. There is hope for the Rossi clan!
As I followed his movements across the room, I noticed his fiancée, Norah, seated at a nearby table, and gave a little wave. She responded with a nod, then went back to reading a book. Norah was different from most of the girls I knew— quiet, and not so into the hair and makeup thing. And brilliant. Sometimes she startled me with her brilliance. Then again, she would have to be brilliant to choose my brother. Joey was the sweetest, most caring man I knew. Next to Pop, of course.
Though we hadn’t yet talked about Norah and Joey’s upcoming wedding, I knew it would be wonderful. They deserved a special day. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind waiting awhile, though. I couldn’t stop to think about their wedding just yet. Not with a Hollywood hottie on his way. I took a sip of the cold beverage, nerves all atwitter as I thought about my upcoming meeting with Brock Benson. What would it be like to meet a Hollywood star for the first time? Would I act like a silly schoolgirl? What would I say? I struggled to come up with an opening line.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
I looked over at D.J. as he spoke, doing my best to shake off my distraction.
“Oh, I’ve got work on my brain.” Sort of. Truth be told, I couldn’t stop thinking about the incoming best man. My cheeks heated up and I did my best to shift gears. Today was all about D.J.
My sweetie turned to me with an encouraging smile. “Big wedding coming up. Are you excited?”
“Y-yeah. Lots going on, though. It’s complicated.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “But let’s go back to what you were talking about on the way over here,” I prodded, eager to steer the conversation away from further comment about what had me so distracted. “What’s up? Something going on at work?”
“I’ve been really busy.” D.J. sighed. “The house we’re rebuilding was really hit hard during the hurricane. Took ages even to get the work started due to an insurance glitch. But anyway, I’ve been getting to know the owner. He’s a pastor of a small church on the west end of the island. His church was completely destroyed too. Wish there was something I could do to help—other than construction work, I mean.”
“Oh, wow.”
Since the hurricane, D.J. had worked more hours than ever. Thankfully, the island was finally getting back into shape, though certain pockets would be a long time in seeing total restoration. It did my heart good to know my softhearted cowboy was helping other people repair both their homes and their lives. This was one of the things I loved best about him. He always put others first. I had the feeling it came naturally to him, though I knew his parents and brother had the same undying love for people. It was really a God-ordained kind of love for people, the kind you couldn’t be taught.
“I feel really bad for this guy.” The worry lines in D.J.’s brow deepened. “Insurance wouldn’t pay to rebuild—the house or the church. It’s zapp
ing him just to get the house up again, but the church … well, it looks like it’s a wash. Literally.”
I groaned at that news. So many of the people who’d lost their homes and businesses had been told their flood policies were useless. “So, what’s he going to do?”
“Don’t know. Right now he’s just depending on his little congregation to raise funds, but so many of them have been hard hit. It’s tough, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe we could do something to help,” I said. “After I’m done with this wedding, I mean.”
“That would be great, Bella. Let’s talk about that when you’re ready, okay?”
“Mm-hmm.”
D.J. took a swig of his soda. “So, what did you do today?”
“Oh, I, um …” I wanted to tell him everything! Surely it wouldn’t hurt for him to know, right? D.J. Neeley was the most reliable man I’d ever met in my life. “Well, as a matter of fact …” I leaned in to whisper when Nick rushed by, bumping into my drink and spilling it all over my lap.
I let out a yelp, and D.J. jumped back to avoid being splashed. Then he sprang into action, tossing me a handful of napkins.
I took this as a sign from above that I’d already said too much. I sopped up the mess in total silence.
A familiar voice rang out, causing me to look up from my damp jeans. Mama buzzed through the door of the pizzeria with Bubba on her heels. Jenna’s face lit up as it always did when she saw her sweetheart. Bubba gave her a wink, never slowing his pace behind Mama, who approached the counter and took a seat on an empty barstool. All the while she talked a mile a minute.
“You did a fine job at rehearsal today, Bubba,” she said. “But I can’t understand why you’re giving the people in the wardrobe department such fits.” She plopped her purse—an authentic Dolce and Gabbana—down on the bar and nodded at Jenna to bring her a glass of Diet Coke. Jenna flew into action. Within seconds, Mama had her lips pursed around a straw. Diet Coke always had a calming effect on her. I hoped today would be no different.