154 - Here Comes Trouble

Caterers were swarming the kitchen with food, beverages and glasses.  The black, lace-draped cake was prominently perched on the center island.  Rental companies had taken over both the living room and dining room with their chairs, tables and sea of pink and black linen.  They were fighting for dominance with the florists’ pink flowers and black feathers. 

“We’re not doing this,” Dorothea told Tony, dodging a young man carrying a crate of glasses.  “I don’t want to do this.  I want small and simple.  Just family.”

He chuckled around the piece of bagel he’d just popped in his mouth.  Nothing like breakfast at two in the afternoon.   With Stephanie the only child in residence last night, they’d gotten up later than planned.  They might still be holed up in bed if Jon’s wedding preparations hadn’t come knocking at the gate around eleven. 

“Babes, this is just family.”

She allowed the cupboard door to swing shut and filled a glass with water.  “Thank God for that.”

Watching her swallow the water, he dusted the crumbs from his hands before bringing them to rest upon her shoulders.  “She’s never been married before.  She should have the wedding she wants, right?”

“Of course she should!”  She frowned at him like he’d said something stupid.  He probably had.  “I’m just saying it’s not what I want.”

Tony took the glass from her, put it in the sink and settled his hands at her waist.  “What do you want?”

With a pointed look out the window, where snow was starting to swirl in the air, she dryly wished for, “Warmth.  Sunshine.”

“So we get married in the summer.  August?  You know I’d always be home for our anniversary.  Jon is religious about his August vacation.”

“I don’t know if I want to wait that long.”

He curled his lips over his teeth to physically bite back the smile.  That answer made him happy.  Of course, he’d be happy if Dave married them in the living room right now, but he would wait as long as Dorothea wanted.

“Then name a date.”

Cognac eyes darted to all points on his face in an effort to determine if he was serious or just making an off-handed comment.  “You wanna do this now?”

“What? Get married or pick a date?”

That caused her to pull a frown.  Yeah.  He’d definitely said something stupid that time.  “Pick a date, of course.  I’m not getting married at the same time as Jon.  That’s screwed up on so many levels that I can’t count them all.”

He shrugged and repeated, “Okay. Then name a date.”

“You’re serious?  You’re asking me to pick a random date out of thin air?”

“What?” he squeezed her hip with a grin.  “You don’t want to put a ring on my finger and make an honest man of me?  The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

Again, she studied his eyes, trying to gauge what he was thinking.  He could’ve saved her the trouble.  The words may have been teasing, but he’d said exactly what was on his mind.

“The band is going to Athens.  I want us to get married on a Greek beach.”  Her demanding tone was belied by the following of a soft, “What do you think?”

He shifted his hands from her hips to her face, cradling it in both palms, and the slight dip of his head had their lips brushing in sweet kiss.  “I think we’re getting married on the beach in May.”

“May?  We’re on tour in May, little brother,” Jon announced his presence in the kitchen, interrupting the intimate moment. 

Both the words and the interruption had Tony bristling at his famous brother for the first time in weeks, but he managed to keep his tone light.  After another quick peck of the lips, he released Dorothea and sarcastically drawled, “Really?  I wondered why the hell I was going to be in Greece.” 

That’s when he noticed the feminine blonde head appear over Jon’s left shoulder. 

“Denny,” Dorothea peered around her ex and greeted Richie’s assistant with surprise.  “It’s so good to see you!  I didn’t know you were coming.”

Tony’s eyes snapped to his brother’s with, what he hoped was, the clear message of ‘what the fuck’ flashing like a neon stripper sign in them.

What in the hell was Denny doing here?  Less than an hour ago, he’d heard Richie was still bringing Candace as his wedding date.  And seeing as Rich hadn’t been real forthcoming about the situation with Denny, Tony couldn’t be sure this development wouldn’t turn into a train wreck of epic proportions.

If it does, at least it’s just family here today.  No tabloid worries.

Head popping above Jon’s inconspicuously shrugging shoulder, Denny juggled a leather garment bag and returned Dorothea’s greeting with genuine pleasure.  “It’s good to see you, too, D.  Congratulations on your engagement.”  She stepped around Jon and lightly touched Tony’s elbow with her free hand.  “You, too, Tony.”

His smile was more fake than Pam Anderson’s breasts, but he managed to mumble a few polite words of thanks and gave her a light one-armed hug.  “So you finally caved in and accepted the wedding invitation?  Funny that Rich didn’t mention it.”

“He doesn’t know,” Jon supplied with raised brows.  With Denny now in front of him, he had the freedom to lift his eyes to the ceiling and point a finger-pistol at his temple.

Happy wedding day, Bro.

She held the garment bag aloft.  “My schedule freed up and he needed delivery service, so I decided to come and handle it myself.   Although, I have to admit that I’m looking forward to meeting Petey, too.”

“Oh?”  Dorothea cocked her eyebrow at Jon. “She didn’t ride out with you and Jon?”

“She’d already gone to Gavin’s when Denny got there,” he explained a bit defensively.  “Fairy Gaymother is on the clock today and they’re doing all the prep work at his place.  I was told that Tinkerhell will arrive at the appointed hour.”

Denny’s eyebrows slammed down and she whirled on him.  “Tinkerhell?”

Tony laughed and came to his brother’s defense.  “Blame Dave, not Jon.  He’s the one who first called her Tinkerhell.  She’s a petite little thing with black hair, always dressed in black.”

“And pink,” Jon added.

“Some things never change, Denny,”  Dorothea sighed.  “You know how David is.  She’s quiet at first, but Petey’s very likable once you get to know her.”

“I’m really surprised that you have been so…  accepting of her.”  She glanced awkwardly at each of them in turn.

Looking in from the outside, it probably was a pretty screwed up situation.  It made him dread the day that the Jovi fans found out about this whole deal.  How many would paint him as the evil wife-screwing brother who was the real cause of their divorce. 

Worrying about it wouldn’t solve anything though.  He couldn’t control what anybody thought, and anybody who really knew him wouldn’t believe that shit.  Well, not since his mother had finally come to her senses.

But that didn’t keep Denny from asking without really asking.  And how did his girl handle a potentially awkward-as-hell situation?

His Dorothea just laughed and slipped an arm around his waist.  “We’re all doing a lot of accepting.  It’s a a lot less stressful than being pissed off.”  Smiling at Richie’s assistant, she gently inquired, “So how long are you here for?”

Denny shifted the garment bag again.  Thinking that it must be getting heavy  for her– and planning his escape so that he and Jon could talk damage control – Tony reached for it.  She readily relinquished it with a grateful smile.  “Just for the day.  I’ll head back to L.A. this evening.”

“Bro, where’s your suit?”  He asked pointedly of Jon, draping the bag over his shoulder.

“Front closet,” Jon said carefully. 

“Let’s go grab it and put both of them upstairs.”

He practically dragged Jon out of the room, down the hall and to the front foyer.  “What the fuck are we going to do?  This is not cool, man.  Dorothea will shit if there’s a catfight in the living room.”

“Dottie?”  Jon snorted as Tony wrenched open the closet door.  “What do you think Petey will do?  It’s her goddamn wedding day!”  His brother dragged an agitated hand over his nape.  “I couldn’t very well call with Denny in the car, but I texted Richie half a dozen times.  He’s not answering me.”

Shoving the garment bag holding Jon’s suit toward him, Tony laughed mirthlessly.  “His phone is dead.  No charger, since he wasn’t expecting to sleep over at Lemma’s and Dave has an Android, not an iPhone.”

Clamping the bag against his chest, Jon demanded, “How do you know?”

“Because the stupid mook had to borrow a phone to call me and get Candace’s number again.  He was gonna tell her what time he was picking her up.  And that should be…”  Flipping his wrist around, he checked the time.  “Oh, about now.”

Side by side, they mounted the staircase that would lead them to the upper level of the house, and the guest rooms.

“So you’re telling me we’re – he’s – screwed?”

Tony shot his brother a look.  “I’m thinking it would be a little awkward for me to call Candace and uninvited her two hours before the wedding.”

“God, no, you don’t wanna do that.  But you can call and ask to speak to Rich.  We’ve got to at least give him a heads up.”

Tossing open the door of the first blue bedroom, Tony stepped inside and laid Richie’s suit across the bed.  He stuffed a hand in his pocket and fished for his phone, presenting it to his brother on an open palm.  “Be my guest.  He’s your best friend.  I’ve already caught enough hell over this date of his.”

Next post: Sunday, August 26