Page 95 of Sapphire Storm

He arrived at the Castle after she did. He refused to letthe driver carry his bag, as if any assistance from someone paid by Diana mighttaint him.

Then he was alone. Alone and only miles away from Ethan,which somehow felt worse than being separated from him by an ocean. With thedistance between them shrunk down to almost nothing, it was clear the onlything separating them was Diana.

The next day, it was Rachel who knocked on his door around11:00 a.m. The wedding’s first act would be a stroll on the beach with Dianaand theVanity Fairreporter writing her profile. When they went upstairs,the interview subject was alone in the sitting room. In the kitchen, Hank—towhom he couldn’t bring himself to say a word even as the man repeatedly shothim guilty looks—and one of Diana’s LA housekeepers who’d been brought down forthe weekend, fussed over a coffee and tea service.

She saw him and stood, then moved to him and gripped him byboth shoulders. Quietly, she said, “I trust that you’ll give everything thatcomes next a hundred percent.”

“Of course,” Roman whispered.

She nodded, and then it was time to get to work.

He’d never been much of an actor. Never tried to be. Butthis time he dug deep, deeper than he’d dug for the interview, maybe becausethere was less of a script to guide him. Their role during the beach stroll wasto be background for the weekend’s true diva. And this gave him and Rachellittle breaks to wander off on their own, where she talked to him about howhe’d spent his time in France. When he asked her how Ethan was doing, her eyesglazed over, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Eyes averted, she said, “We’ve figured out a way for youguys to be in touch, but it’s risky, so just follow our lead, okay?”

The next evening, the rehearsal on the beach went offwithout a hitch. Of course, all the groomsmen worked for Diana’s security team,and Rachel’s maids of honor were distant cousins flown in from all over thecountry, most of whom she barely knew and all of whom had come looking for ahandout. Arm in arm, he and Rachel made the rounds at the awkward cocktail partythat substituted for a rehearsal dinner, and then, mercifully, Diana gave him asilent nod, indicating he was allowed to retire to his room.

Shortly thereafter, Rachel left for Sapphire Cove.

The customary separation of bride and groom the night beforethe wedding had commenced.

He didn’t sleep a wink.

The closer he got to Ethan, the more the torture of notbeing able to talk to him, hold him,lovehim, became unbearable. Andby the time they were headed to Sapphire Cove at 2:00 p.m. on the day of thewedding, he was in danger of gnawing his fingernails to the quick. As the SUVmounted the winding road that led to the resort’s promontory, he heard his mother’svoice again.

I want you to have whatever wedding you want, and I’llbe there with bells on.

Silently, he said to her.If you’re watching, Ma, sitthis one out, ’cause it ain’t the real thing.

They took a sharp left turn before the motor court, justenough time to glimpse the red carpet rolled out before a step-and-repeatcovered in logos for Diana’s product lines.

They entered through a loading door, then a startlingly tallhotel security agent, whose name tag readLogan, was escorting themthrough service corridors. Additional blazered security agents walked ahead ofand behind them. They were whisked to the top floor by a service elevator thatopened onto a housekeeping closet, then they were moving swiftly down a quietand familiar carpeted hallway lined with guest room doors. He should have knownwhere they were headed, but somehow seeing the words emblazoned on the doubledoors slugged him in the gut. He would be getting ready in the same place heand Ethan had first laid eyes on each other after eighteen years—the penthousesuite.

When Logan opened the doors, Roman’s eyes went immediatelyto the silver-domed tray resting on the center of the dining table. His breathcaught.

Logan said, “A gift from our executive pastry chef. Somethingspecial he does for all wedding couples.”

Roman smiled and nodded, but inside he was melting.

When he lifted the tray, he found himself gazing down at thedessert in question along with a handwritten menu card describing itscontents—in Ethan’s handwriting. It was just like he’d said in this very roomthe night they’d been reunited—a special dessert meant to capture one of thehappiest memories shared by the bride and groom. Only this memory wastheirs—his and Ethan’s.

POINT LOMA

Champagne jelly and accents of caviar—the Pacific

White chocolate and pandan—the coast

Kombu seaweed—the Shelter Island Marina

Out of medallions of white chocolate, Ethan had fashionedthe San Diego coastline. Roman recognized its shape from when he’d done mapsearches for directions to the Torrey Pines Glider Port. At the top were thebluffs from which they’d launched. Then, just south, the round inward bend ofthe La Jolla Cove. The cove’s southern shore came next, where they’d dinedtogether at Jillian’s before walking down to the surf line.

To his astonishment, Ethan had made a white chocolateshoreline that went all the way down to the finger of Point Loma. Just behindand to the right of it, the Shelter Island Marina, where Donnie docked hisboat, was indicated by little cross hatches of seaweed. All told, the dessertwas about half the length of Roman’s arm. The detail was incredible and meticulous.He shouldn’t have expected anything less from Ethan.

“He said to tell you white chocolate and caviar are actuallysurprisingly good together,” Logan said. “Have a taste. Please.”

Logan pulled out a chair, and Roman sat down in it. From theplace setting nearby, he took a fork, and carefully, as if its tines weregathering up the most precious items in the world, brought a bite to his mouththat included a little of everything that had been used to create theconfection. He hated to destroy it, but he knew the taste was what Ethan wouldwant him to savor most.

When the flavors hit his mouth, his eyes closed, and he wasin Ethan’s arms aboard theGolden Boyas the ocean rose and fellgently beneath him and the sun glittered off the water and the limits of theeveryday world felt abandoned on shore. A perfect memory. A happy memory.

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