1: 1
Two months before the wedding, Fred Gilbert caused another disaster.
He drowned the beloved dog a key client had brought along, and his reason was that Angela Simmons was allergic to dog hair.
I moved to fix it the moment it happened, and I was busy with it for two solid months.
Gifts, concessions, and a purebred of the same breed bought at a steep price.
In the end, I even knelt in front of the client.
Only then, barely, did I hold on to a project we'd worked with for years.
All the while, Angela used the excuse of clearing her head and flew around the world with Fred.
They saw the northern lights, they saw volcanoes, they went deep-sea diving.
Every place I'd ever wanted to go, they set foot in.
They didn't drift back until the day before the wedding.
"I know there wasn't time, so Fred and I already shot the wedding photos in Bali. You just paste your face in later and they'll work."
Angela handed me a stack of photos and said with a smile, "Oh, and I took the pendant out of the safe. Fred says he wants to use it."
A vein throbbed at my temple. My voice shook as I asked her,
"Do you know what that pendant means?"
"That's the symbol of the Simmons family. It's the inheritance. Grandfather put it in my hand himself!"
"Why did you take it without asking me?"
Impatience flickered in Angela's eyes.
"Fred isn't trying to fight you for power. He just likes to have fun."
"He'll bring it back in a few days. What are you so worked up about?"
The last of my hope finally died.
All this time I'd believed that if I just endured, it would pass.
From a clueless orphan, I'd endured all the way to today.
Twenty-five years of enduring.
But in that moment, I didn't want to endure anymore.
"In that case, I won't be attending the wedding tomorrow."
1
At my words, Angela froze for a second.
Then she knitted her brows and said I was throwing another one of my fits.
Was marriage something to be played with?
I said nothing.
She was the one who'd treated it like a game first, and now she was turning it around and blaming me.
Truly laughable.
That was when Fred spoke.
He sighed first, walked over, patted my shoulder, and his tone was as gentle as if he were soothing a sulking child.
"Miles Dickerson, don't be like this."
"Angie's waited so many years for you. The wedding's tomorrow. The invitations have gone out, and now you say you won't come?"
"How is Angie supposed to face all the relatives and friends?"
"And can you really look Rodney in the eye after his dying wish?"
He paused, his gaze carrying just the right amount of concern. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately, running around for two months over that project, feeling low."
"But you really can't blame Angie for this. She didn't even want to go at first."
"I was the one who said we should relax one last time before the wedding. I dragged her into it, and only then did she agree."
He smiled and turned to glance at Angela, his eyes soft. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don't hold it against Angie."
Hearing him, Angela's face went colder still.
"Look at Fred, then look at yourself."
"All he does is think of other people. And you? All you do is keep score!"
I didn't speak.
Fred edged a step closer and lowered his voice. "Miles, take my advice. Stop making a scene."
"You know how Angie is. The harder you push, the less she'll back down."
"You soften up a little and this all blows over. The wedding goes ahead tomorrow. Listen to me, you won't go wrong."
His voice was soft, so sincere, as if he really were looking out for me.
But I could hear it, every line pouring fuel on Angela's temper.
He knew her too well.
He knew she'd bend to a soft hand but never to a hard one, knew nothing set her off like my "fits."
And sure enough, Angela came straight over and pulled Fred back behind her.
"Don't waste all these kind words on him. He won't appreciate them."
Her eyes were nothing but impatience. "Let me ask you. Tomorrow's wedding, are we having it or not?"
I still said nothing.
Fred leaned half his body out from behind her, and at some point a pendant had appeared in his hand.
Deep green and clear all the way through, it was the very one Grandfather had once placed in my hand.
He held it up and gave it a little shake. "Miles, I know this is what you're upset about, right?"
"Fine, I'll give it back to you right now."
"Don't let a piece of stone ruin things between us. Honestly, I don't even care for it."
He extended it a step forward, a big, sweeping motion.
But he had no real intention of putting it into my hand.
Angela clamped a hand over his and turned to sneer at me. "Give it back for what? He isn't a Simmons. Handing this pendant to him would just be a waste."
