Will shifted in his seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. His calf brushed hers and a burst of heat emanated from the point of contact.
Ignore it, she ordered herself. Something told her she would be having to ignore many things over the next two weeks.
“So how did you become a wedding consultant?” he asked.
Thank goodness. A safe topic. Business related even. Kelsey counted her lucky stars. “My parents divorced when I was nine. When it came time for them to marry others, they both asked for my brother’s and my input. I think it was their way of trying to make things easier on us. My brother couldn’t have cared less, but I got into it. Each time they remarried—”
“Each time?”
“My father’s been married eight times, my mother six, though she’s currently engaged to number seven,” Kelsey admitted. It wasn’t a big secret to anyone who knew anything about the Armstrongs. Many followed the happenings of America’s second most famous family. “Needless to say, I had lots of practice planning weddings.”
“How did you pick Beverly Hills to open your business?”
“When I was thirteen, my mother married a producer, who moved us from Chicago to Beverly Hills and introduced me to the entertainment industry. He’s husband number three and five.”
Will’s eyes widened. “She married him twice?”
Kelsey nodded. “And divorced him twice, too.”
Will frowned. “Your family sounds a lot different than mine.”
“I know. Your parents have been together forever. Starr was very proud about that.”
Will smiled. “Divorce is a four-letter word in our house. No Addison has ever been divorced.”
“None of them?”
“No grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins or siblings.”
“That’s…unbelievable.”
“But true.” Pride rang out in his voice, and Kelsey felt a stab of envy. “We’ve all been fortunate to find the right person.”
“Not Faith.”
“She hasn’t married yet.”
“You don’t have to remind me.” Kelsey stared at him. “So, do Addisons stay in miserable marriages to avoid divorce?”
“We don’t have miserable marriages.”
And there was a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow. “Seems to me most marriages end up that way eventually, unless you are lucky.”
He raised a brow. “This from a wedding consultant?”
She nodded. “That’s why I take my job so seriously. Every bride deserves to feel like a princess and every groom a prince. The least I can do is give a couple a day to remember, a day to hold close to their hearts after things sour.”
“Is that why you keep a scrapbook of your clients’ divorces? Not one showing the successful marriages, the pictures of babies and children that come from the ones that work?”
A mixture of embarrassment and anger washed over her, yet she contained her temper. Like it or not, Will was a client. And as she’d learned from her parents, blowing up over something that couldn’t be changed never solved anything. She shrugged, but the last thing she felt was indifference. No one had ever seen her scrapbooks. Until that moment she’d forgotten she’d put them in the ottoman instead of their usual hiding place. “Not many of the marriages I coordinate last.”
“No doubt because of your Wedding Consultant to the Stars moniker.” Sarcasm laced his voice. “You haven’t seen what real marriages are all about, how good, how strong they can be.”
“Is that how you feel about your marriage?”
“Yes.”
She’d seen too many failed marriages to believe the Addisons had the market cornered on happy ones. “You think you found your soul mate?”
“I have no doubt.”
Kelsey heard the conviction in his voice. Such a romantic. She couldn’t ignore her curiosity about his wife, the woman who’d captured Will Addison’s heart. “How did you know she was the ‘one’?”
He got a faraway look in his eyes. “It happened the day I met her.”
Love at first sight? Talk about a fairy tale. This she had to hear. “How did you meet?”
Will glanced out the window to the red-streaked sky. The sun was setting slowly. “It was Sadie Hawkin’s day. I was in sixth grade. All the boys tied their names on their belt loops and the girls got to chase us. If a girl managed to get your name, you were hers for the day.”
He and his wife had been childhood sweethearts and still together after all this time. Kelsey found that hard to believe in this day and age. “Sounds…fun.”
“For the girls maybe,” he admitted. “Sara, my wife, was new to the school. I’d never really paid much attention to her before because she was so shy and quiet…” His voice trailed off.
“Go on.”
He hesitated. “Sometime during the chase, one of the girls pushed her. Sara fell. Her knee was bloody and she was crying. I went over to help her up.”
“Don’t tell me she grabbed your name tag?”
He nodded.
“And that’s how you knew?”
He moistened his lips. “Sara was holding on to my name and she smiled, a wide grin with a mouthful of braces, and I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That one day I would marry her.” He glanced away. “And I did. Two days after I graduated from college. That was ten years ago.”
“You were young.”
“I wish I’d married her sooner.”
“That’s sweet.” Saccharine sweet, Kelsey thought. How could he feel that way after ten years? Longer if one counted how long they’d been together. Maybe he’d gotten lucky, like his parents and grandparents.
His eyes glimmered. Tears? Kelsey found that almost as hard to believe as being married forever. Maybe he wore contacts and had a piece of grit in one of his eyes. That would explain it.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Kelsey said to break the silence.
“You can’t meet her.” The green of Will’s eyes darkened and his lips tightened. “Sara…is dead. She was killed in a car crash eight years ago.”
Chapter Three
The air whooshed from Kelsey’s lungs. Talk about open-foot-insert-mouth. She struggled for a breath and the right—appropriate—words to say. Even though she was able to handle even the most awkward situations, this one left her speechless. Not wanting the uncomfortable silence to stretch any further, she settled for the most obvious yet overused sentiment. “I’m so sorry, Will.”
“Thanks.”
No pain in his voice; no anguish on his face, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Okay, his wife had died eight years ago not eight days, but Kelsey still felt about a quarter of an inch tall. It was obvious from everything he’d said about love and marriage that his heart still belonged to one woman and one woman only—his late wife, Sara. “I hope I didn’t—”
“You didn’t.”
“I thought since you wore a wedding band…”
“It’s