Crashing the Congressman's Wedding
By Elley Arden
()
About this ebook
Why is Harmony Fall’s golden boy, Justin Mitchell, speeding down the interstate sans a new wife but with the local drama queen he’s been trying his whole life to avoid? Alice Cramer may have saved him the hassle of an arranged marriage to a woman he didn’t love, but she’s also put a business transaction big enough to save an entire town in jeopardy - not to mention his reputation.
Soon Alice and Justin are dredging up and indulging in an attraction that threatens all their dreams and aspirations. But what if life together is the dream that matters most?
Sensuality Level: Sensual
Elley Arden
Elley Arden is a proud Pennsylvania girl who drinks wine like it’s water (a slight exaggeration), prefers a night at the ballpark to a night on the town, and believes almond English toffee is the key to happiness. Find Elley Arden at ElleyArden.com, on Facebook at Facebook.com/elleyardenauthor, and on Twitter @elleywrites.
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Book preview
Crashing the Congressman's Wedding - Elley Arden
Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding
A Harmony Falls Novel
Elley Arden, author of Save My Soul
Crimson Romance logoAvon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
57 Littlefield Street
Avon, MA 02322
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2013 by Elley Arden
ISBN 10: 1-4405-6830-8
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6830-5
eISBN 10: 1-4405-6831-6
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6831-2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com; istockphoto.com/jganser and NejroN
To my brother who by example gave me enough courage to step on stage. I cherish every hour we spent at the piano, belting out show tunes.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
About the Author
More from This Author
Also Available
Acknowledgments
I am greatly influenced by music. The basic concept for this book came from a couple questions prompted by a popular song. My questions were, What kind of woman stands up and stops a wedding, and what kind of groom runs off with the wedding crasher?
After much thought, my answer became Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding.
The heroine and I share a profound respect for community theatre. The caliber of performances entertaining theatregoers in towns big and small throughout the United States simply dazzles. I urge you to support your local arts community. From performers to musicians to set designers and costumers, chances are there is immense and powerful talent wherever you live just waiting to hear your applause.
CHAPTER ONE
Alice shoved her feet into rhinestone-studded pumps, checked her teeth for smudges of red lipstick and dashed out the door onto the porch. She had exactly twenty minutes to get to church. Digging into her late mother’s beaded clutch, Alice cursed her missing keys and walked as she rummaged, wishing a chat with the mail lady hadn’t put her behind schedule.
Ruff. Mouse ran a zigzag pattern across the front yard, brushing filthy fur against her toile skirt.
Stop it. You’re dirty.
Alice waved the dog away, but he brushed by again, causing her to stumble and step in a pile of …
Crap!
She threw her handbag to the ground and stared at the clump of brown on the tip of her shoe. Are you serious?
She tossed her head back and roared at the cloudless sky. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Stomping her way back to the porch, she kicked off the shoe and scraped the toe in the too-tall grass. Dog doo smashed between the rhinestones. Alice growled, dropped the shoe to the ground and limped into the house, heading straight for her only other pair of remotely matching heels … character shoes. Wearing beige stage shoes wasn’t the fashion statement she hoped to be making today, but she didn’t have a choice. She was already late, and the only place to buy shoes in Harmony Falls was the thrift store, which was closed for the congressman’s wedding.
These were the moments when Alice missed her mother most. She kissed fingertips and pressed them to Mama’s face, smiling at Alice from behind dusty glass. Tough day, Mama. Wish you were here.
With a frown, Alice hastily fastened the shoes, leaving too much slack. At least the whole day hadn’t been a bust. Shirley had delivered mail early on account of the wedding, and in her hand was a letter from the Arts Foundation. Alice’s application was a finalist, which put her one step closer to opening an honest-to-God theatre in Harmony Falls. No more The Sound of Music in the park pavilion. No more Peter Pan in the church social hall. No more Poor Little Alice Cramer, the girl with impossible dreams.
She sighed and then smiled, determined not to let the bad parts of the day drown out the good.
Ten minutes remained, and Alice still had no idea where to find her keys. For all she knew, Mouse stole them again so he could chew on her lucky rabbit’s foot. When she rolled her eyes, she noticed her brother’s keys hanging on the hook by the door where he’d left them when he rode off with a group of deadbeat friends. Her nose crinkled. Charlie’s car smelled like cigarettes and was littered with trash, but it would get her to the church faster than walking.
Snagging the metal off the hook, Alice tiptoed through the grass (careful not to step in anything questionable) and scooped her purse from the front yard before plopping into the driver’s seat of Charlie’s car.
Ouch!
She dug a hand underneath yards of scratchy skirt and pulled out a tiara. The glistening crown was pretty. A bit odd, too. And it definitely wasn’t hers. She tossed the headpiece into the backseat and shook her head. How Charlie managed to get any woman into this car willingly was beyond Alice. She kicked aside empty paper cups, shut the ashtray, rolled down the windows and pressed pedal to the floor all the way to church.
Making it with a few minutes to spare, Alice paused at the back of the sanctuary, smiling down the lily-lined aisle at the smoking hot man standing before the altar. His tuxedo was tailored, his shoulders were back and his hair was impeccably groomed. He’d worn the same lift to his blond bangs since high school. Back then, the fashionable hair blended with city-bought clothes to make him look even more privileged than he was. Now, almost fifteen years and two professional titles later, the flip of his bangs made her smile, because she recognized it for what it was — who he was — a predictable, responsible, creature of habit.
Alice sighed, smoothed a hand over the snug bodice of her dress and tried to remember a time when she didn’t love Justin Mitchell.
He saw her then, and she dug deep into her theatrical bag of tricks to smile with a sincerity that would charm sight-challenged ladies in a theatre’s back row. He bought it, smiled back, and Alice imagined the fine lines crinkling around his green eyes. The breath she tried to take stuck in her too-small throat, and she remembered she needed to walk, needed to move, needed to take her place. This wasn’t the time for longing or regrets. This was a wedding.
The man she loved was getting married.
But he wasn’t marrying her.
Alice released the misery with a shake of her head and then scanned the noisy crowd for friendly faces. Ken and Carole Flemming sat three pews from the altar, three pews too close to the fire, with an empty space between them where Kory should be. Today of all days, Alice missed her best friend, but resident doctors didn’t get time off for non-family weddings — even if those weddings featured small-town royalty.
Sucking a mouthful of air, Alice took a step down the aisle. Although she preferred Mrs. Flemming’s quiet smile to the rambunctious fawning of just about everyone else in town, for once in her life the attention that went along with a walk down the center aisle wasn’t appealing. Alice chose relative anonymity in the back of the church instead.
She slid into the pew and studied the groomsmen, imagining her brother in the mix. Aside from Will and Mark Mitchell, Charlie knew Justin longest; he deserved to be up there, too. She closed her eyes and pictured Charlie cleaned up, with his bow tie tilted and his boutonniere hanging off his lapel. But when she opened her eyes, he wasn’t there. Congressman Mitchell couldn’t take the risk. Bonds of childhood friendship were no match for the potential embarrassment of having a drunk at the front of the church.
Alice’s stomach clenched as she wondered if Charlie was sober today — wherever he was. If not, she prayed he stayed safe and out of too much trouble. She’d been praying for that a lot lately. And she’d keeping praying and hoping it wasn’t too late, that Charlie wouldn’t end up like their father.
The thoughts tugged acid into Alice’s throat, and she held a hand to her mouth. Dropping her shoulders on a heavy exhale, her head followed. Too much emotion for one day. A loose piece of silver thread hung from the bottom of her skirt, and she felt tears that had nothing to do with the thread.
If it weren’t for the false eyelashes and extra coats of mascara, she’d have allowed herself a good cry. Justin was getting married, and although she knew this day would come, the finality hit hard.
She sniffed, dabbed beneath her eyes with her knuckles and lifted her head, smile firmly in place. The church teemed with people who had every reason to celebrate. Congressman Justin Mitchell, chief financial officer of Mitchell Company, Inc., was making good on his late father’s promise to bring life to this dying town. His congressional term set the stage for tax breaks and corporate-friendly zoning, and his arranged marriage would align the two most powerful families in the state. It didn’t hurt that as a wedding present, the bride’s uncle promised his new plastics plant to Harmony Falls.
So Alice loved Justin. Big deal. Who was she to stand in the way of progress?
Maisy Carmicheal twisted in her pew. You look lovely, dear.
She smiled at Alice and adjusted her cotton candy pillbox hat. For a beautician, the woman wouldn’t know style if it stole her ugly hat and slapped her upside the head. Wait until you see the bride. Perfection. My best updo ever.
I’m sure.
Alice held her eyes firmly in place despite the urge to let them roll down the aisle. Of course Morgan Parrish was perfect. Her father was the mayor. His power and money made certain she was skinny, educated, and flawless — everything Alice wasn’t.
More tears burned the backs of Alice’s eyes, but before a drop could fall, a flash of red passed on the Alice’s left. Josie Parrish stopped beside Maisy’s pew. The combs aren’t holding,
she hissed. Help me, Maisy. This is a disaster. I can’t believe she lost that tiara. I told her that bachelorette party was a foolish idea.
Tiara? Hmmm. Alice watched the bride’s mother grab Maisy around the wrist and pull her out of the sanctuary. A tiara. Like the one Alice sat on in the front seat of Charlie’s car? No. Alice couldn’t imagine Morgan ever stooping low enough to accept a ride from the likes of Charlie. And why would Charlie have been anywhere near Morgan’s bachelorette party?
Alice shook her head. The tiara in Charlie’s car couldn’t be the same tiara Morgan was missing. Besides, after all the years of friendship, Charlie would never hurt Justin.
But a drunk Charlie did things a sober Charlie would never do.
Alice winced. Absolutely not. She refused to believe it. This was just an uncanny coincidence. And yet … how many tiaras were floating around Harmony Falls?
She looked at Justin. He held his hands waist high and alternated squeezing palms, first the right on top and then the left. From the back of the church, she couldn’t see him clearly, but she bet he was chewing his bottom lip. He always chewed when he was worried. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he had something to chew about.
A few minutes later, Maisy returned to her pew. Just a little hair snafu, but I worked my magic. The bride is officially breathtaking,
she said, gloating loudly enough for several rows to hear.
Alice fidgeted, trying to push thoughts of missing tiaras out of her head. She scratched at her tight bodice, picking at a hard piece of plastic that ran up her side and dug into her right breast. When she did, her elbow bumped the man sitting next to her.
You look pretty, Alice.
The Mitchell’s ancient gardener smiled and tipped his hat. Just like Marilyn Monroe.
That’s sweet, Tubby. Thank you.
Never mind that the dress was about as comfortable as a potato sack. She didn’t remember it being so itchy when she wore it last year in Hello, Dolly. Then again, with no operating budget for her twice-a-year productions, the dress hadn’t been dry-cleaned since.
Alice sighed again. Maybe borrowing a dress from the costume closet wasn’t the best idea, but her alternatives weren’t any better. Wear a frock from the thrift store or drop a bundle on a trip to the city and a dress she’d never wear again. In all honesty, this was hardly the occasion to splurge. She’d have worn black if she thought she could’ve gotten away with it.
Tubby started humming show tunes under his mint-scented breath, and Alice wondered if he recognized the dress. She slipped down in the pew, wishing she could hold her head up high, wanting just once to attend a Mitchell affair without sitting in the back with the outcasts. But Johnny Cramer made sure his daughter knew her place. Even though he died years before Mama, his words rang clear: When they look at us, all they see is trash, baby. The sooner you realize it, the better off you’ll be.
Yeah? Well, Alice realized it — and she was tired of waiting for the better-off part. All she needed was the grant money, and she’d have a real brick and mortar theatre. She’d know her place then, and everyone else would know her place, too.
Alice Catherine Cramer belonged in the spotlight, not in the audience. She deserved applause, not pity. And with that little pep talk, she smiled, fidgeted again and pressed her back to the uncomfortable pew.
A crinkled hand landed on her leg. Maybe I’m the only one who thinks it, but that boy’s making a mistake.
Tubby shook his head. A man should be happy on his wedding day, and he’s not happy.
Alice blinked. Her mouth fell open, and she almost agreed, but before the words tumbled out, trumpets blasted through the church, and Molly Lunsford, cousin of the bride, tossed a handful of rose petals over the white runner near Alice’s pew. She looked like a cherub with ringlet curls. The crowd oohed and aahed, and the child bowed. After another handful of petals hit the ground, the little girl sprinted down the aisle toward her papa, where he scooped her into his arms and planted a kiss to her cheek.
Sweet. Alice stole a glance at Justin. Despite the precious child and chuckles from the pews, he was somber, and his misery made her heart hurt. Before she could dwell too much on Justin’s lack of happiness, creampuff bridesmaids strolled past, each one stuffier and stiffer than the next. Alice didn’t know most of them. They were outsiders, Morgan’s friends from a fancy law school in Connecticut, with poufy hair, chandelier earrings and bright pink lips. They looked like the cast of Willy Wonka threw up all over the stage.
And then Morgan appeared. The only thing missing was the choir of angels. She was five foot ten with hair of spun silk and a designer dress flown in from France. Whatever the Parrish family had paid for all those layers of lace, they paid too much, Alice thought, smoothing her hand-me-down dress over clenched thighs. She imagined all the overpriced clothes Morgan would buy with the Mitchell family money. What a waste.
The Justin Alice knew wasn’t like that. He spent his money, drove new cars, and owned nice homes, but he gave a lot of his money away, and he looked best in blue jeans and a faded Penn State hat with the brim brushing his neck. Morgan wanted to change him, starting with the push to move to D.C. and the for sale
sign in Justin’s front yard. If the banshee got her way, Justin would turn into suit-and-tie-wearing Congressman Mitchell full-time and leave Harmony Falls for good.
As much as the thought depressed Alice, his complete transformation was for the best. When Plain Old Justin was around, Alice couldn’t breathe. The lines blurred. He didn’t seem so off limits wearing faded jeans and a crooked smile, and she didn’t feel so unworthy. In those moments, dreams of being together spilled into her days, and she wasted time walking around a fool in unrequited love.
Thankfully, it’d been a long time since Alice had been stuck in the I love Justin
rut. She was happy with the direction her life was headed. After today, she hoped the rut would be permanently patched. A girl could dream, couldn’t she? Yes, she could. Even if those dreams weren’t likely to come true.
A trumpet blast startled Alice as Morgan floated down the aisle with her nose in the air. Alice refused to fawn over a bratty bride, so she focused on the groom instead. His face lengthened and two shadows slashed his cheeks. There wasn’t an ounce of joy in the man.
Smile, Justin. Although it would hurt Alice more to see him smile, even the smallest sign of happiness would set her free with the knowledge that at least one of them