Swinging On A Star Read online

  After ending the call, I turned to Rob and Brock. “Shouldn’t be a big crowd tonight anyway. It’s a Thursday night.” Shifting my focus, I reached for a pen and paper. “While I’m thinking of it, let me give you the reservation information for the hotel. I think you’ll like the Tremont. It’s very private.”

  I started to write down the information, but the pen slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor. Brock and I leaned down at the same time to pick it up, our hands touching for a microsecond. I pulled away, feeling my face warm with embarrassment. In that second, a very junior-highish thought flitted through my brain.

  I am never washing this hand again.

  5

  Call Me Irresponsible

  As my eyes met with Brock’s, my heart flip-flopped. Man, did he ever smell yummy. What was he wearing? And those amazing cheekbones! Somehow being this close made me want to reach out and touch them just to see if they were real. Has he had work done?

  Fortunately—or unfortunately—I didn’t have time to think about it. My sister’s voice rang out, startling me back to an upright position. “Bella,” she called. “Are you in the office?”

  “Oh no! Sophia!” I clamped a hand over my mouth and stared at Rob and Marian.

  Brock immediately rose to his feet and slipped behind the door. When Sophia stepped inside, she saw only the bride and groom, who by now were playing it cool. I could tell from the heat in my cheeks that I was flushed, but I hoped she would write it off to the weather.

  Though Sophia had sounded plenty impatient seconds earlier, she smiled as she took in my guests. “Hi, everyone. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” She turned to me, giving me super-secret coded messages with her eyes, messages I could not mistake. “Bella, I just wanted to let you know that Rosa’s getting anxious. Mama wants the whole family at the dinner table at six, and that includes you and D.J.” She swept a loose dark hair behind her ear and nodded, as if that settled everything.

  “Oh, well, I, um—”

  “Oh, that’s too bad!” Marian said. “We’re actually headed out to dinner, and Bella’s going along for the ride.”

  “I—I am?” I looked at her, startled.

  “Well, sure. We still have a few things to discuss pertaining to the wedding. We can’t do this without you.”

  Yikes. “I see.” My thoughts shifted into overdrive. How could I make this work? I’d have to call D.J., of course. He would understand. But Rosa … now that was a different story. I gave my sister what I hoped would be taken as a sorrowful look. “Sorry, but I guess I’ll have to give Aunt Rosa a rain check.”

  “She’s going to murder you in your sleep.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “You know how she is about her food. If you don’t show up …”

  “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. Sorry. Business before pleasure and all that.”

  “I guess you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.” My sister gave me a curious look—probably due to my less than enthusiastic response—then took another step into the room, smiling in Marian and Rob’s direction. “So, how’s the wedding planning coming? I heard all about this castle you’re getting married in. Sounds amazing. Are you two ready to ride off into the sunset on white horses?”

  “Y-yes.” Marian nodded, then shifted her gaze to Brock, who stood tightly pressed behind the door. Probably by now the Hollywood hunk could barely breathe. Still, he managed to keep things under control. Looked like all of that on-the-set training was working to his advantage. Besides, these Hollywood types probably hid behind all sorts of doors to get away from flighty fans.

  Just then—and I watched this in slow motion from the best seat in the house, so I got the full effect—Brock put his hand up to his nose and began that heaving motion that comes right before a person sneezes. I watched him bob his head three or four times in total silence. Then, when he blew … he blew. I’d never heard anyone sneeze that loudly before. The jolt caused the door to shoot back, knocking Sophia a good foot or two from where she’d started.

  “W-what in the world?” She pulled the door forward. “Just what do you think you’re—”

  That was it. We lost her after that. Sophia took one look at Brock Benson and turned into a babbling idiot. She began to rant—in perfect Italian—about the man who now stood before her. To his credit, Brock stepped from behind the door, took her hand, and kissed it. I’d never actually seen anyone swoon before, but I’m pretty sure Sophia did. And then Brock did the unthinkable. He responded to her—in perfect Italian.

  Oy, were we in trouble!

  My sister’s cheeks flushed, and she began to fuss with her long mane of hair. “What are you … ? I mean, how are you … ? And why are you … ?” She tried multiple times and multiple ways to get her questions out, but it just wasn’t happening. Still, it was fun to watch her try. Made me wish I had a video camera going so I could replay it for her later.

  “Brock Benson.” He continued to hold her hand as he introduced himself.

  I could see her hand shaking in his, but he didn’t seem to mind. Likely he got this a lot. “Sophia Rossi,” she managed. After a few more seconds of staring, she finally turned to me. “Th-this is like some sort of a miracle! But, h-how did it happen?” she whispered. “Do the others know?”

  “I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Rob said with a shrug. “Brock is the first knight in our wedding.”

  “First knight?” Sophia’s brow wrinkled.

  “Best man,” Rob said. “But we’d planned to keep it a secret.”

  “We will keep it a secret,” I echoed, giving Sophia a warning look. “We’ll go to our graves with this secret.”

  She crossed her heart and held up two fingers. “Girl Scouts’ honor.” The whole room hung in suspended silence for a good thirty seconds while my sister stared at the handsome man in front of her. Thankfully, he seemed to take it in stride.

  I wanted to ask the girl to close her mouth. To tell her that she looked a little silly. But I held my tongue.

  “H-how are you going to do this?” she asked me at last. “Is he staying on the island?”

  “Yes. We’re putting both Rob and Brock up at the Tremont for the next week. It’s a lovely hotel, and I really think they’ll like it.”

  “The Tremont?” Sophia shook her head. “They can’t stay there, Bella. You know that.”

  “Sure they can. They’ve already got a room waiting.”

  “But don’t you remember?” My sister turned to Brock, batting her eyelashes. “The Grand Opera production of The Marriage of Figaro is this weekend, and most of our out-of-town guests are staying at the Tremont.” Sophia turned back to me. “D.J.’s parents are coming down from Splendora and bringing several of their church ladies with them, remember?

  They’re all staying at the same hotel because they want to be close to each other. And the Tremont is the closest hotel to the opera house.”

  “Oh man!” How could I have forgotten that half the town of Splendora was coming for Bubba’s debut? His mama— Earline—would be there, along with half the congregation of Splendora’s Full Gospel Chapel in the Pines. Likely the whole of east Texas would show up to support him. And they were all staying at the Tremont! How had I forgotten that teeny-tiny detail?

  Easy. My mind was on a thousand other things.

  “Opera?” Brock’s eyes lit up. “I love the opera. And The Marriage of Figaro is one of my favorites.”

  Great. Wonderful. This was getting better by the minute. I dropped down into my chair, slapping myself in the head. “What are we going to do?”

  “Oh, I’m sure we can find another place,” Rob said with a wave of his hand. “Marian managed to find a condo for rent. There’s got to be another one available. Or maybe we can rent a bed-and-breakfast somewhere.”

  “Or …” Sophia’s eyes lit up, and her perfectly arched eyebrows elevated in anticipation. “You guys can stay at our place next door.”

  I looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Our place?”
A house already filled to overflowing with a large Italian family, a disobedient Yorkie-Poo, and a parrot that cursed at strangers in between verses of “Amazing Grace”? No way! I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone a Hollywood star.

  “Sure, why not?” Sophia said. “Nick’s room is empty, and so is Armando’s now that he’s living in Houston again. Besides, Joey would probably love the company. He’s always complaining about how there’s too much estrogen in the house.”

  “Too much estrogen in the house.” Rob shuddered as he repeated the words, then looked at Brock and laughed. What was up with that? Was the groom-to-be hoping to find a fair lady for his best man while here on the island? If so, he’d better look elsewhere! I was already taken. And Sophia …

  Hmm. I looked at the hopeful expression on my sister’s face and paused. She wasn’t exactly taken, though my ex-boyfriend Tony certainly had his eye on her.

  Still bubbling, Sophia looked my way. “Bella, you know they’ll love Aunt Rosa’s cooking.” She turned to Brock and began to sing our aunt’s praises, going on and on about her amazing Italian cuisine. I’m pretty sure we had him at the words chicken parmesan.

  Not that I blamed him. There was something about the mention of Italian food that did most of us in, and I particularly loved it when Aunt Rosa cooked chicken parmesan. It made the whole house smell delicious and was incredibly tasty. Perfect for an evening like this, when the world was imploding.

  “We’ve got plenty of room,” Sophia added, clearly oblivious to my ponderings. “Besides, Mama’s busy with the opera, so she’ll hardly even notice they’re there.”

  With a shake of my head, I began to explain all of the reasons this wouldn’t work. However, I barely got three words into my dissertation before Brock looked my way with a nod. “Actually, Bella, it sounds good to me. I always feel safer staying in a home than in a hotel. There’s less risk involved.”

  “Less risk?” Obviously Brock Benson hadn’t met the Rossis. He had no idea what he was agreeing to. Nor did he seem to care.

  Brock laughed. “The idea of a good home-cooked meal is almost too much to pass up. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had homemade Italian food?” He explained that his midday meals were most often brought in by caterers, and his evening meals were almost always in some swanky L.A. restaurant. Never good home cooking. Then he went off on a tangent about how much he missed sitting around the dinner table in a family environment. How could I argue with that?

  “What do you think, Bella?” Marian gave me a hopeful look. “Is the Rossi bed-and-breakfast open for business? It’s just a week and a half, after all.”

  “Just a week and a half,” I echoed. “I … I …” Glancing into Brock’s eyes, I found myself saying, “I’ll ask Mama, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Awesome!” Brock said. He turned to Rob with a smile. “See, I told you this was going to work out.”

  “I guess I could stay at the Tremont,” Rob said with a shrug. “And you could stay here.”

  “No way.” Brock shook his head. “Skip the hotel, Rob. I came to Texas to hang out with my best friend. We’ll both stay at their place.”

  “I … I guess.” Rob’s pursed lips let me know his take on this. Surely he hadn’t planned to spend the week before his wedding living in a house with the rowdiest family on Galveston Island. I had a feeling he was going along with this to make Brock happy. In fact, I had a feeling Brock Benson usually got his way in things. He just schmoozed folks until he got what he wanted. Quite a talent. Had he learned that in Hollywood, or was it some sort of hereditary trait?

  “Thank you, Bella.” Brock reached for my hand and kissed it. After I caught my breath, I nodded. He then nodded in Sophia’s direction.

  My sister looked as if she’d died and gone to the Hollywood version of heaven. I half expected a piped-in audio of “The Hallelujah Chorus” to fill the room and 3-D angels to appear on the walls.

  The bride-to-be turned to me with a look of pure contentment on her face. “Oh, Bella! How can I ever thank you? This is the perfect solution. I’ll sleep so much better knowing Brock is under your roof for the next week.”

  She might, but I sure wouldn’t. In fact, I doubted I’d sleep a wink. And how could I tell these fine folks that the Food Network crew would be pulling in with their trucks the day before the wedding? No, I’d better not broach that subject today.

  6

  Come Fly with Me

  I cancelled our dinner plans at Landry’s and geared myself up for the Rossi-family-meets-Hollywood-star moment. Before taking Brock, Rob, and Marian to our house, I gave them the Reader’s Digest version of the Rossis so they would be psychologically prepared. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. There would be too much to absorb too quickly.

  “Mama and Pop retired from the wedding facility a few months back,” I said. “And I run it now. Uncle Laz—Pop’s older brother—has lived with us for years. He owns Parma John’s, a pizzeria and coffee shop on the Strand.”

  “Parma John’s?” Brock smiled. “Great name.”

  “Thanks. It was his idea. And he’s nuts about coffees, so you’ll find several varieties there. Now, about Aunt Rosa, Mama’s sister—you need to know she hates Uncle Laz.”

  “Why?” Brock’s brow wrinkled.

  “Long story. Goes back to their childhood in Napoli. Laz once broke Rosa’s heart. I don’t think he realized it at the time, so we can’t hold it against him. And a lot has happened since. But to cut to the chase, I think they’re secretly in love.” Hence Rosa’s current fascination with lipstick. “I tell you this because their bantering goes on all day long. They never quit.”

  “Ah. Love will do that to you,” Brock said with a sigh. “Not that I’ve really experienced love in real life, but I once played a pirate who acted like he hated the leading lady, when in reality he loved her. If that counts.” He flashed a Hollywood-esque smile.

  “Oh my gosh, I saw that movie. The Pirate’s Lady.” Sophia clamped a hand over her mouth, and then released it with an exaggerated sigh. “You played Jean Luc Dumont, and you fell in love with the beautiful but badly behaved Genevieve Montecito. The whole thing was sort of a play on the old Taming of the Shrew theme. You spent half the movie trying to tame her.”

  “That’s right.” He turned to her. “I can’t believe you remembered that. It was one of my earliest films and my very first pirate movie.”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I remember it!” Sophia gawked at him. “I can quote half the lines.” She dove into a few just to prove herself, and Brock’s handsome face lit with a broad smile. He began to quote some of Jean’s lines, and she countered them with Genevieve’s.

  I watched all of this in rapt awe. For that matter, so did Marian and Rob, who occasionally glanced at me as if to ask, “Is this for real?”

  Brock nodded at Sophia as their scene drew to an end. “Man, it feels good to run those old lines again. I love it.”

  “I can tell.” Sophia flashed a coy smile. “Anytime you need a partner, think of me.”

  “Mm-hmm. You’re a natural,” he said, taking her hand and gazing deep into her eyes till she looked like she’d fallen under some sort of spell. “Have you ever considered coming to Hollywood?”

  “M-me?” Sophia’s eyelashes batted up and down in exaggerated motion.

  Good grief. Perfect time for an interruption. Mama would kill me if someone I’d introduced Sophia to actually talked her into moving away. Then again, my sister was pretty flighty. I’d seen this side of her before. She fell hard and fast but usually recovered just as quickly. Hopefully this time wouldn’t be any different.

  “Maybe we should get back to explaining about Laz and Rosa,” I said. “They’re continually feuding over who is the better singer, Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra. They’re always arguing about it, but no one ever wins.”

  Brock shook his head. “What’s to argue about? Sinatra, of course. Ol’ Blue Eyes.”

  A shiver ra
n down my spine as I contemplated the war those words would cause in the Rossi household. “Just don’t let Laz hear you say that, okay?”

  He laughed, then looked at me with disbelief in his eyes. “You’re serious?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Wow.” Brock shrugged. “Sounds intense.”

  “Well, Laz has always been a little intense, but that’s because he had a near-death experience that changed his life back in the ’80s.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I should probably tell you about it. He calls it his Damascus Road experience. In reality, he was hit by a bus while walking home from a bar. Happened when we lived in Atlantic City.”

  Brock almost spit his Pellegrino across the room as his laughter erupted. “Sorry. I know that’s not funny.”

  “Oh, I guess it is now. But I just wanted you to know, because it comes up a lot. He ended up at the Catholic hospital, and the nuns gave him quite a talking-to. His whole life turned around that night. In fact, our whole family ended up in Texas because of what happened that night.”

  “I’m not sure I even want to know what that means,” Brock mumbled to Rob.

  Nor did I want to tell him. There just wasn’t time. Still, I hadn’t exaggerated. When Laz gave his heart to the Lord, it really did change our family—for all eternity. And it didn’t just change how we lived, it changed where we lived.

  I proceeded to fill him in on the rest of my family, focusing on my three brothers—Nick, Armando, and Joey. Then I got to Sophia. When I mentioned her name, he turned to her and flashed an Academy Award–worthy smile. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she batted her eyelashes once again. Good grief, girl. Don’t overdo it.

  Once I’d thoroughly explained our eccentric Italian family, we could avoid the inevitable no longer. I led the way across the lawn and up the stairs onto the veranda of the hundred-year-old Victorian home. As I did, I heard shouts coming from inside the house. Looked like Aunt Rosa and Uncle Laz were at it again. Would those two ever get along?