Had fourteen years really passed since that night? They seemed lost in a blur of champagne fountains, caviar and high-heeled women who’d been half Sparky’s age. In his mind’s eye, he always saw himself stepping from private planes, buying expensive suits, or cutting ribbons at hotels, new ventures that always signified a business deal where someone else got screwed in the end. He’d made so many enemies. The man who’d come to kill him that night was only one.
Sparky’s daughter by the only woman he’d married was the bright light in it all. He’d lay down his life for her and his enemies knew it. Did the man in the video still hold a grudge? Finally, after all these years, a private eye had gotten close to discovering who he was, but would they actually locate him before Julia’s upcoming wedding? And should Sparky tell Julia’s bodyguard, Pete Shriver, about this old video, or wait until the P.I. found the man? This piece of dirty laundry wasn’t one Sparky wanted to air, after all. The man’s vendetta had been too personal….
Which was why Sparky had let him go. Now he damned himself for showing uncharacteristic mercy. Why hadn’t he treated his near-killer to the same ruthlessness he employed in business?
And was the past really coming back to haunt him? Was the man about to call again, drawn by Julia’s highly publicized wedding? Wishing he hadn’t pushed to give his daughter the wedding of the year, Sparky dragged his fingers thoughtfully over his scalp. Julia was so in love with her fiancé, Lorenzo Santini, that she’d have happily eloped. Maybe Sparky should have let her.
“Julia,” he whispered on a sigh. By insisting on such a large wedding had he made his daughter a target?
1
STOP THE WEDDING or the bride will die.
Lifting her gaze from the letter on the boardroom table, wedding planner Edie Benning glanced at Emma Goldstein, a writer from Celebrity Wedding magazine, then toward Julia Darden, but the bride-to-be only continued kissing her fiancé. Julia and Lorenzo weren’t the brightest couple, but their passion could melt Siberia. Still, Edie was surprised when they didn’t stop kissing to voice concern for their safety. Not that Edie would mention it, since Julia’s daddy, Sparky, CEO of the Darden hotel empire, had given Edie carte blanche to create New York’s best-ever wedding, an event that could make her a real player in Manhattan wedding-planning circles.
The responsibility would have been daunting under any circumstances, but as Julia’s bodyguard, Pete Shriver, slid another letter across the table, Edie felt her dream of building a business slipping through her fingers.
“Someone wants to put a damper on the wedding,” Pete announced, “so we’re going to tighten security around Julia.”
Edie just hoped Pete wouldn’t suggest the couple nix the celebration and elope for safety reasons. The couple was still making out, and since Edie’s love life sucked, the smoochy-face was hard to take. During the month since she’d started dating a guy from New Orleans named Cash Champagne, Cash hadn’t even tried to progress things beyond their few lackluster kisses. It was the sort of thing that made Edie feel sure her Granny Ginny wasn’t telling tall tales; clearly, just as her sisters Marley and Bridget had always believed, and as Granny had proclaimed, the Bennings really were victims of a wedding curse.
“From now on, Edie,” Pete was saying, “Marley needs to give Julia her morning workouts at the Darden estate. Julia and Lorenzo were already in the city, so they could meet us tonight, but until we catch whoever’s sending the letters, Julia should stay in Long Island. We found out the guy’s mailing the letters from a box on East Ninety-Sixth Street, so hopefully, we’ll catch him soon….”
“I’m sure Marley won’t mind coming to the estate.” At least Edie hoped not. But who knew? Edie had done everything to help her twin get back on her feet after her divorce, including giving Marley this opportunity to be Julia Darden’s personal trainer, but Marley, who’d become hopelessly cynical since her divorce, hadn’t even said thank you.
The rest of the family made up for it. Edie’s father, Joe, was catering the affair, and her mother, Viv, a seamstress, was making gowns; Edie’s youngest sister, Bridget, worked at Tiffany’s and was producing ring designs. Despite the excitement, Marley kept saying Edie’s luck in landing this assignment was too good to be true. No man as wealthy as Sparky Darden would take a chance on an unknown such as Edie, Marley had argued.
Ever since her divorce, she’d been difficult, especially when it came to accepting help from Edie. She also distrusted anyone Edie dated, something Edie understood since Marley’s ex had wiped out the funds from Marley’s fitness club, Fancy Abs, putting Marley out of business. As far as Edie was concerned, the end of the marriage had been brutal, even by the high standards set by other Benning-sister breakups. Yes, when it came to marriage, the Bennings were definitely cursed….
Edie cast a glance at Emma Goldstein, who was taking notes, and continued, “At Big Apple Brides, we’ll do everything to ensure Julia’s safety.”
“It’s appreciated,” Pete returned. “The letters have been coming since October when the wedding was announced.”
Edie frowned. “You weren’t worried then?”
“We stepped up security, but with the wedding so close…”
Six months wasn’t enough time to plan, but Julia would only agree to the April date, now three months away. As near as Edie could tell, the heiress would elope tomorrow, but she hadn’t done so because she wanted to please her father.
“Go ahead with your plans, Edie,” encouraged Pete. “My guess is Julia’s not the real target. Probably, the letters are from an old business rival of Mr. Darden’s, someone hoping to cast a cloud over the big day, but who doesn’t want to hurt Julia. Most perpetrators with serious intent don’t pussyfoot around like this. And Sparky will be the first to admit he’s made enemies. We need to take more precautions, though.”
“I didn’t mention it, but…”
Pete’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Edie shook her head, thinking she was being paranoid. “Maybe I’m just nervous, but in the past few days, I’ve felt…as if someone might be outside the shop watching me….”
“Hudson Street stays busy.”
Edie cast a glance toward the conference room’s open door, the windows and crowded street. Despite the circumstances, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself. Her business was impressive. No one would guess the Bennings had redone the interior of Big Apple Brides themselves, the women painting while Joe carpeted the floors and built shelves that were now lined with wedding books.
The windows were her mother’s idea. On one, the words Big Apple Brides were painted in gold. Draped with satin swags, both glassed cases brimmed with wedding items: champagne glasses, a hope chest, garters and bouquets. A winged mannequin wore a gown of white feathers, a bed waited in invitation, and roses were strewn across the floor. The effect was pure fantasy, inviting couples to create their ultimate dreams. Not that the ambiance had done anything for Edie’s love life, of course. How could it, she thought with a sudden rush of pique, when a century-old curse ensured failure in the area of romance?
Pushing aside the thought, she stared at the corner of Hudson and Perry Streets. “The street’s especially busy now,” she continued. It was late January, but after-Christmas shoppers were still combing stores for sales.
“I’ll have a man check in with you once a day. Okay?”
Nodding, Edie glanced toward the bride, who was shooting Lorenzo a dazzling smile. Julia was beautiful. Taller than average and model-slender, she had brown eyes, a clear complexion and an unusually wide mouth. Despite being camera shy, her looks had made her a media darling. Lorenzo was no slouch, either. The pro hockey player could have body-doubled for Benicio Del Toro.
Months