Chandra and Preston spent more than two hours at Safian & Rudolph Jewelers on Seventh and Sansom Street Sunday afternoon. It took over an hour for her to select a setting, then she had to decide on the cut and clarity of the center stone. She’d watched in amazement as the jeweler set a near-flawless two-carat cushion-cut diamond into prongs that were surrounded by pavé diamonds. The center diamond, pavé and sixty round diamonds on, along and under the platinum band totaled three point twenty carats. Seeing the ring on her left hand made it all real. She was officially engaged to marry Preston Japheth Tucker.

She sat beside Preston in his SUV, her heart beating rapidly when they shared a smile. The light coming through the windshield reflected off the brilliance of the stones on her left hand.

“We’re going to have to tell our families.”

Preston ran a hand over her hair. “I’ll call my mother and sister later. You’re going to have to let me know when you can go to Charleston so you can meet my family.”

“I can go during the winter recess.”

Leaning to his right, Preston kissed her. “I’ll call Yolanda and tell her to expect us.”

“Do you always stay with your sister?”

“Yes. But only because she’s a stay-at-home mom.”

“Speaking of mothers. I’m going to call mine to see if she’s home so we can give her the good news.”

Preston waited in the parking lot while Chandra called her mother. The call lasted less than a minute. The Eatons were home. Shifting into Reverse, he maneuvered out of the lot and into traffic. He found it ironic that he and Chandra had had prior engagements but hadn’t married their respective fiancée and fiancé for all right reasons.

 

“Mama didn’t tell me Belinda and Griffin were coming over,” Chandra said when Preston maneuvered into the driveway and came to a stop behind the hybrid SUV.

Preston cut off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. “I spoke to Griffin the other night and he told me to ask you when it will be a good time to get together.”

“How about next weekend?”

“Friday or Saturday?” he asked. Preston needed to know, because he wanted to take Chandra and her sister and brother-in-law out to dinner.

“Friday.”

Resting his arm along the back of her seat, he angled his head. “What if we ask them to stay over?”

“I’ll ask Belinda. And before you ask, I think spending the night in Kennett Square is preferable to the city.”

Preston gave her a wink. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Chandra waited for Preston to get out and come around the vehicle to assist her. The front door opened before she rang the doorbell.

Roberta, wearing her perennial apron when at home, smiled at her daughter and the man who no doubt had settled her down. “Please come in. We were just sitting down to eat.”

Chandra kissed her mother’s cheek. “We didn’t come to eat, Mama.”

“Why did you come?”

She extended her left hand. “To show you this?”

Roberta pressed a hand to her ample bosom. “Oh, my word! You’re engaged. Dwight, come here! Your baby is getting married.” Chandra walked around her mother when Roberta began tugging on Preston’s arm.

“What is Bertie yelling about?” Dwight Eaton asked Chandra when she met him in the middle of the living room.

“You’ll have to ask her, Daddy.” She would let her mother break the news of her engagement. “Where’s Belinda?”

Dwight gestured over his shoulder. “She is in the kitchen. Griffin and the girls are in the family room watching television.”

Chandra kissed her father before she walked into the kitchen. Belinda stood at the stove stirring a pot. The high school history teacher wore a peach-colored cashmere twinset, black wool slacks and matching patent leather slip-ons. Although she’d admitted to being pregnant, her body had not yet begun to show signs that she was carrying a child.

“Hey, sistah!”

Belinda put down the wooden spoon, replacing the cover on a pot of mustard greens. “Hey, yourself. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“How are you feeling?” Chandra whispered.

Belinda hugged her sister. “Aside from hurling every morning, I’m good.”

“Have you told Mama?”

“Not yet. I told Griffin that I’m tired of hiding and that I’m going to make the announcement today.”

Chandra tucked her left hand behind her thigh. “I suppose that’ll make two of us making announcements today.”

“You’re pregnant?” Belinda asked, whispering.

Chandra rolled her eyes, while sucking her teeth. “No!” She extended her hand. “But I am engaged.”

Belinda closed her eyes, covered her mouth before screaming into her cupped hands. “Oh, my heavens! I can’t believe my sister is going to marry Preston Tucker.” She lowered her hands and reached for Chandra’s. “Congratulations. Your ring is gorgeous.” She glanced around. “Where’s your fiancé?”

“Daddy’s probably giving him the third degree.”

“I suppose he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened between you and Laurence Breslin.”

“Trust me, Belinda, there is no comparison.”

“I hear you,” Belinda crooned, raising her hand for a high five handshake.

Preston walked into the kitchen with his future mother- and father-in-law to find Chandra and Belinda laughing and hugging like teenagers.

“What’s all the noise about?” Everyone turned to find Griffin, Layla and Sabrina crowding under the entrance to the kitchen.

Belinda winked at her husband. “Chandra and Preston have some good news.”

“They’re having a baby, too,” Griffin blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘too’?” Dwight and Roberta chorused.

Layla ducked under Griffin’s arm. “Who’s having a baby, Uncle Griff?”

“Yes, Griffin,” Roberta drawled, “who’s having a baby?”

“Belinda and I are having a baby,” he announced proudly.

Roberta put up a hand, mumbling a prayer of thanks. “I had to wait twelve years for another grandchild, then we get Adam, and now we can look forward to another one next year. The Lord surely is good.”

Sabrina pushed her way into the middle of the kitchen. “Layla and I are going to have a sister or brother, or will it be a cousin?”

Griffin hugged his nieces. “He or she will be whatever you want them to be.”

Layla smiled, showing off the colorful bands on her clear braces. “When will we see our sister or brother?”

Belinda’s gaze swept over those standing in the kitchen. “May. By the way, I’m not the only one with good news today.” Her eyebrows lifted when she looked at Chandra and then Preston. “Sis?”

Chandra took three steps, reaching for Preston’s hand. “Preston proposed and I accepted. We plan to marry next June.”

Griffin slapped Preston on the back. “Welcome to the family, buddy.”

Layla sidled up to Chandra. “Can Brina and I be bridesmaids?”

Chandra kissed her niece. “Of course you can. Lindy, I know we’re going to cut it close, but I’d like for you to be my matron of honor.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Belinda gave her sister a long, penetrating look. “That may pose a problem. I’m due to deliver at the end of May, and even if you marry at the end of June, that’s not enough time for me to recuperate. And even if I did feel well enough to put up with fittings and rehearsals, I plan to breastfeed.”

Chandra bit her lower lip. “I’d planned to ask Denise to be in the wedding party. I suppose she’ll have to be my maid of honor.”

“We could always change the date.” Everyone turned to look at Preston.

Chandra stared at her fiancé as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “Change it to when, Preston?”

“Thanksgiving, Christmas or even New Year’s.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Preston said, repeating what he’d said the night before.

Roberta stared at her husband, and he nodded. “Everyone, let’s go in the family room. Chandra and Preston need to discuss something.”

Sabrina balked. “I want to know when the wedding is.”

Griffin put an arm around his nieces, leading them out of the kitchen. “Your aunt and her fiancé have to—”

“Discuss grown-folk business,” the twins chorused, completing the statement they’d heard countless times.

“How did my favorite girls get so smart?” Griffin teased.

Waiting until they were alone, Chandra gave Preston her undivided attention. “Do you really want to get married before the end of the year?”

Pulling her closer, Preston rested his head on the top of her head. “I’d marry you tomorrow if it were possible.”

Chandra listened to the strong, steady beats of his heart. “It’s not impossible.”

He eased back, staring at her with an expression of shock and astonishment freezing his features. “When, Chandra? Let me know the day, time and place and I’ll be there.”

“We can get married three weeks from now.”

Preston massaged her back. “What’s happening in three weeks?”

“It will be the Thanksgiving weekend. It’s a family holiday, so it shouldn’t pose a problem for our families to get together. We’re going to have to send out invitations, decide whether we want something simple or formal. And—”

“Slow down, Chandra. You don’t have to do anything. We’ll hire a wedding planner.”

A feeling of unease shuddered over Chandra as if someone were breathing on the back of her neck. She knew for certain that she loved and was in love with Preston Tucker. She also was certain that she wanted to become his wife and the mother of their children, but something from the nightmare continued to chip away at her confidence.

Shaking off the bad vibes as she would an annoying insect, she forced a smile. “You’re right. I’m going to have enough to do when I go back to work.”

Dipping his head, Preston placed soft, shivery kisses around her lips, along her jaw and down the column of her neck. “Let me know what you want, and if it’s within my power I’ll make it happen for you.”

Chandra closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment and the man pressed intimately to her heart.

 

Chandra sat on her bed, cross-legged, the phone cradled between her chin and shoulder. It was her third attempt to procure the services of a wedding planner, and hopefully her last. The first two did not have an opening for the next eight and ten months respectively. Her last hope was Zoë Lang. She’d searched Ms. Lang’s Web site and liked what she saw.

“May I make a suggestion, Miss Eaton?”

“Yes, and please call me Chandra.”

“Are you opposed to hosting an out-of-state wedding?”

Chandra stopped doodling on the pad resting on her crossed legs. “Where out of the state?”

“Isle of Palms.”

She searched her memory as to where she’d heard about Isle of Palms. “Isn’t that in South Carolina?”

“Yes, it is. In fact, it’s an island off the coast of South Carolina. When you left a message on my voice mail, you said you were willing to assume the expense of lodging out-of-town guests. I’ve checked with hotels and inns in and around Philadelphia, and most of them are booked up because of the holiday weekend.”

“How will Isle of Palms be more convenient?”

“Firstly, Miss…Chandra, it is a summer resort community and after Labor Day many of the vacation properties become available. And secondly, what you’ll pay to lodge your guests is considerably lower when compared to a hotel for the Thanksgiving weekend. I’m looking at a listing for an oceanfront villa that will hold a maximum of twenty-two guests for a daily rate of twelve hundred dollars, or a weekly rate of fifty-three hundred. This is far below the average hotel rate of one-fifty a night for three nights. If you were to pay for twenty-two hotel guests for that weekend it would cost you more than twelve thousand dollars.”

Chandra jotted down the figures. “I’m going to need more than one villa.” Because she wanted a small, intimate wedding, she and Preston had agreed to keep the final count at fifty.

“You’re in luck, because I have three properties along the same stretch of beach. There’s one with ten bedrooms, ten en suite baths, plus two half baths. There’s space for ten cars for a maximum of twenty-six guests.”

“How many beds?”

“Six king and four queen beds. The property has three floors, an elevator, high-speed wireless Internet and a boardwalk that leads to a private beach. The total weekly cost for the Thanksgiving week is eighty-three hundred dollars. If you’re near a computer I’ll send you the link as we speak.”

Moving off the bed, Chandra walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Tucked into an alcove was the pantry and a workstation where she’d set up her laptop and printer. “I’m turning on my laptop now.” She gave the planner her e-mail address while waiting for her computer to boot; she then logged on to the Internet.

Within minutes she clicked on the link. The seven-thousand-square-foot oceanfront property was exquisite.

It was furnished with a large flat-screen TV and DVD/ VCR combo. All of the second floor bedrooms had deck areas. The kitchen opened out to both the dining and living rooms. Photos of the kitchen revealed stainless steel appliances, gas cooktop, double ovens, subzero refrigerator and granite countertops. She liked the fact that each home came with an initial supply of linens and towels, washer and dryer, cable TV, air conditioning and a starter supply of paper products, detergents and local telephone service. The thing that made her consider holding her wedding on a sea island was the twenty-four-hour security in a gated community.

“I like what I see, Ms. Lang,” Chandra told the planner. “I know I’m working within a very tight time frame, but I have to talk to my fiancé before I commit to anything.”

“When will you get back to me, Chandra?”

“Either tonight or early tomorrow morning.” Preston had called to tell her he had a dinner meeting with a friend, and he would come to her apartment later that evening.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll put a rush on the invitations. Right now I need you to fax or e-mail the names and addresses of your guests so the envelopes can be printed.”

“I’ll e-mail them.” Chandra didn’t have a fax machine, but Preston did. He had one in the office at his condo and another at his home.

“I’m also going to e-mail my contract. Have your attorney look it over. If you agree with the terms, then send it ASAP.”

“Okay. Either I’ll speak to you tonight or tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Chandra.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Lang.”

Chandra ended the call, staring at the images on the computer monitor. If anyone would’ve told her that she was going to marry Preston Tucker after a seven-week whirlwind romance, she would’ve thought them either certifiably crazy, or at best delusional. Well, the joke was on her, because she was going to marry Preston and at present the only question was—where.

She pulled up a map for South Carolina. Preston’s mother and sister, who lived in Charleston, were only a few miles from Isle of Palms. East of Charleston and across the Cooper River bridge was the town of Mount Pleasant. Driving east on the bridge would take them to Sullivan’s Island and the Isle of Palms.

If she and Preston decided to marry on the sea island, their guests could come days before the ceremony and tour the Carolina low country. For some it could serve as an unforeseen vacation filled with centuries of history waiting to be explored.

The beginnings of a smile softened Chandra’s mouth when she stared at the ring on her left hand. She’d reached a decision. She was going to have a low-country wedding.

 

Preston could not believe the man sitting next to him was his fraternity brother. Clifford Jessup had literally blown up his cell phone when he’d left eleven voice mail messages that he had to meet with him. When Preston finally returned the call, he agreed to meet Clifford for dinner. His former agent had asked that he pick him up at a motel in an extremely undesirable part of the city.

“What the hell happened to you?” The question had come out before Preston was able to censor himself. Tall, slender, dark, handsome and always fastidiously groomed, Cliff’s suit looked as if he’d slept in it, and with his bearded face and shaggy hair he could’ve easily passed for a homeless person.

Cliff doffed an imaginary hat. “And, good evening to you, too.”

Preston’s temper flared. “Either you dial down the sarcastic bull, or get the hell out of my car.”

Clifford’s face crumbled like an accordion. “Look, P.J., I’m sorry.”

“Even if you’re not sorry, you’re a sorry-looking sight. What’s up with you?” Preston’s tone had softened considerably.

“Can we go someplace and get something to eat?”

“Sure. But there aren’t too many places we can go with you looking like one of Philly’s homeless.”

Running his hand over the sleeve of his suit jacket, Cliff attempted to smooth out the wrinkles. “It is a little wrinkled.”

Preston wanted to tell him it was past wrinkled. Shifting into gear, he backed out of the parking lot of the transient establishment known for its rapid turnover of guests.

“There’s a diner not too far from here where we can eat.”

Slumping down in the leather seat, Cliff closed his eyes. “That sounds good.”

Preston gave his passenger a quick glance. He drove down a street where most of the streetlights were out, and probably had been out for weeks. If no one called the city to report the outages, then they probably would remain out indefinitely.

What Preston wanted to know was why Clifford was hanging out in a neighborhood with one of the highest crime rates in the City of Brotherly Love instead of at home with his lovely wife and two beautiful children. He arrived at the diner, maneuvering into the last space between two police cruisers.

They walked into the diner and were shown to a booth in the rear. Cliff requested coffee even before he sat down. Music blared from speakers throughout the twenty-four-hour dining establishment, while flat-screen TVs were turned on, but muted. Preston stared at the closed caption on a channel tuned to CNN.

A waitress brought Cliff his coffee, then took their food order. Preston ordered grilled sole, a baked potato and spinach without reading the extensive menu. Cliff ordered scrambled eggs, grits, bacon, home fries and toast.

Waiting until his former agent downed his second cup of coffee, Preston said, “Why all the 9–1-1 calls?”

Cliff ran a hand over his bearded face. “I need you to talk to Jackie.”

Preston leaned forward. “You want me to talk to your wife?” Cliff nodded. “Why?”

“Because I know she’ll listen to you, P.J.”

“Why would your wife listen to me, Cliff?”

“Because she likes you.”

“And I like her,” Preston countered. He continued to stare at the man whom he had regarded as a brother, a brother that went beyond their belonging to the same fraternity.

“I guess you can say I messed up—big-time—and Jackie told me I couldn’t stay in the house.”

“Is she talking divorce?”

“No.”

“It was a woman.” Cliff nodded, while Preston shook his head. He couldn’t understand why men cheated on their wives. “Does Jackie know who she is?”

“You could say that.”

Preston exhaled an audible breath. “I didn’t drive all the way over here to play cat and mouse with you when I could be home with my fiancée.”

Cliff closed and opened his eyes and gave his fraternity brother an incredulous stare. “You’re getting married?”

Preston smiled for the first time. “Yes. Chandra and I will tie the knot over the Thanksgiving weekend.”

“That soon?”

“It’s not soon enough for me.” He waved a hand. “We’re here to talk about you, not me, Brother Jessup.”

Cliff smiled. Preston calling him brother was a reminder that although they no longer had a business relationship they were still connected. “Do you remember Kym Hudson?”

Grabbing his forehead, Preston swallowed a savage expletive. He couldn’t believe Cliff had mentioned her name. The buxom coed slept her way through their fraternity like a virulent plague. Preston was one of a very few who’d refused to feed her voracious sexual appetite.

“Who could forget Kym the Nymph?” He dropped his hand. “Don’t tell me you started up with her again?”

Cliff took a deep swallow of the strong black coffee. “Yeah, and Jackie found out.”

“How did she find out?”

“Kym told her.”

Preston wanted to reach across the table and grab Cliff by the throat. “You’re an asshole! If you’re going to cheat on your wife, why do it with someone she knows? I don’t blame her for kicking your butt out.”

“But—it was only once.”

“‘It was only once,’” Preston mimicked in falsetto. “You expect Jackie to believe that?”

“But it’s true. I only did it because I was curious as to whether she was still that good, P.J.” Cliff chuckled. “The joke was on me, because she wasn’t good at all. All that fake moaning and screaming my name turned my stomach. Meanwhile, I risked losing my wife and children because I couldn’t forget some adolescent fantasy.”

“I can’t talk to Jackie.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a writer, not a psychologist or marriage counselor. You have to tell her you want to save your marriage, and if it means going into counseling, then you do it. Meanwhile, if you need a place to live, then you can stay with me at the condo until you get your life back on track.”

Cliff stared into his coffee mug. “Thanks, man.”

“Did you tell Jackie that you’re no longer my agent?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t tell her. I’m going to send you and Jackie an invitation to my wedding. Let’s hope she’ll contact you to ask whether you’re attending. Tell her you’re going to be my best man.”

“Am I going to be your best man?”

“Please shut up and let me finish. As my best man you won’t be seated together, but at least you’ll get to see her. And, knowing Jackie, I doubt whether she’d make a scene.”

Cliff scratched his bearded face. Guilt and anxiety had caused him to lose Preston as a client, but nothing could breach the bond they’d taken as fraternity brothers. “Thanks, Brother Tucker.”

Preston affected a stern expression. “The first thing you’re going to do when we get back to my place is shave and shower because I don’t need an infestation of lice or fleas.”

Cliff’s teeth shone whitely against his beard. “That’s cold, Brother Tucker.”

“No, Brother Jessup. That’s the deal, or you can continue to live in that turnstile of a cathouse.”