Danielle Steel - the Wedding (2000)

I'm sorry, she said quietly, pouring him a cup of coffee. She had made a statement for the press about it the night before, and it was already on the front page of the L.A. papers. It was a rough night for everyone.

You should have been a cop, or an ambulance driver or something, he said, looking at her ruefully. You have the right constitution for it. I, on the other hand, do not. I need to get a little sleep every now and then, between phone calls.

I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Bram's tour is about to go up in smoke. I have to see what I can do for him today. Her mind had been racing since early that morning. Bram knew of several drummers he could break in, but it would take time, and most of them had other commitments.

Don't forget that our plane is at six o'clock, Jeff said pointedly.

I know, she said, feeling jangled. She left for the office half an hour later, and never stopped all day. She actually sat with Bram, and helped him reorganize the tour, and at four o'clock she looked at her watch, and knew that the shit was about to hit the fan. There was no way she could leave Bram. And she had to leave now, if she was going to make the plane. She had told Jeff she would meet him at the airport.

She called him at home, but he had already left, and he didn't believe in car phones, he said they were too California. So there was nothing she could do except page him at the airport. The much-joked-about white courtesy telephone actually came in handy.

She had him paged at five o'clock when they were supposed to check in, and at five-fifteen, he called her at the office. Alice told her he was on the line, and Allegra pounced on it. He didn't sound pleased to hear her.

Where are you? I guess that's a moot point, since I just called you at the office. What's happening?

The promoters are threatening to pull out of the tour on us, they're saying it's breach of contract, and as of this moment, we haven't lined up another drummer. I don't even know how to begin to say this to you, but I can't walk out on him, Jeff. The tour starts on Monday. She had been planning to fly up to San Francisco on Monday, to see him perform at the Oakland Coliseum. But it was out of the question now. They couldn't go anywhere without a drummer.

Isn't it up to his agent to fix this mess?

If he can, but I'm part of it, and they're going to need me to draw up new contracts.

Can't you fax them from New York?

She wanted to say yes, she hated to disappoint him, but this was her responsibility and she couldn't just walk out on it. She had to tell him the truth, no matter how mad he got about disappointing his mother. I really need to be here.

Okay, I understand, he said quietly, but his voice was like ice, and there was a long silence.

What are you going to do now? She was panicking that he would break it all off. What if she lost him? Will you still go? she asked, sounding nervous.

I'm going to introduce you to my mother, Allegra. I already know her, he said coldly.

I'm sorry, she said, agonizing over letting him down, particularly right in the airport. I tried to get you at home, but I missed you. Should I call your mother and explain?

I'll do it. She'll never understand. I'm going to tell her something outlandish like a death in the family, food poisoning, something. She doesn't know about rock tours.

Jeff, I'm so sorry.

I know. You can't help it. How about dinner? Can you manage that? Or are you fasting too?

I'd love it, she said, grateful that he was willing to forgive her, or at least feed her. She thought it was a good sign. He was an incredibly decent person.

It's not your fault, Allegra, I know. It's just a pain in the neck having our plans thrown out the window all the time, for someone else's convenience. Maybe when we get married, you can work on that a little bit. This time it makes sense, even to me, but most of the time, these people just expect you to wipe their asses for them, hold their hands, and make all their decisions for them.

That's why they pay me.

I thought it was for legal services.

That's what they tell you in law school, but like everything else they tell you, it's all a lie. It's for wiping asses. She laughed softly and he smiled at his end.

I love you, you crazy woman. I'll drive back from the airport and pick you up at the office for drinks, and if Morrison can't spare you for a couple of hours, I'm going to punch him in the nose. And you can tell him I said so.

I will. Verbatim.

Everything okay? Bram Morrison asked her when she got back from talking to Jeff. She actually looked relieved. She'd been terrified he would break the engagement over her failure to fly to New York to meet his mother.

Yeah, she said with a smile. I was supposed to go to New York to meet my future mother-in-law this weekend, and I just canceled. Jeff was already at the airport.

I'm really sorry. He was soft-spoken and kind, and one of the hardest-working men she knew. Like most of the musicians she had worked with, he had done drugs in his youth, but unlike many of them, he had been clean for years. He was a family man, and a real genius with music. And he rarely took advantage of her time except when he really needed her, as he did now. But a star of his magnitude often had sudden and very major problems, like the threats to his kids, and now the death of his drummer.

Bram had long, disheveled hair, and a beard, and he wore little wire glasses, and he looked like a wild man as they pored over the new contracts. Someone had just told him about another drummer they might be able to get their hands on, a truly great one. Things were looking hopeful.

Jeff came by at seven o'clock, and she and Bram broke it up for a few hours. He needed to get on the phone and pursue the drummer anyway, and he told her to take the night off. They were to meet again at nine o'clock the next morning.

She and Jeff went to Pan e Vino for something to eat, and she looked harassed and exhausted, and even Jeff looked a little frayed. His mother had been absolutely furious over their cancellation. She had made reservations at Twenty-One for dinner on Saturday, and she was a person who didn't like her plans changed, especially by some girl she had never met from California.

What did she say? Allegra asked nervously, convinced that Mrs. Hamilton would hate her forever.

She told me to cancel this wedding, he said, straight-faced, and she gasped, and then he laughed. She told me that ours is an unreliable generation, that you can't count on anyone, and that she's very sorry if your great-aunt did die, but you could have come for a day anyway, just to meet her. I explained that you were far too upset, and the funeral is Sunday. I don't think she believed a word of it, but there's not much she could say. Show me the body, send me a mass card’? I called the florist in New York right before they closed, and they promised to send her a huge bunch of flowers from both of us in the morning.

I don't deserve you, Allegra said sincerely.

She said that too, but I told her you did. I promised we'd go on Memorial Day weekend, however. That's a big deal to her, because she opens the house in Southampton that weekend. So, come hell or high water, we'll have to go then.

What about your movie?

We won't be working on the holiday weekend. He was starting in three days, which was why they were to have gone this weekend.

But in the end, it worked out for the best. She worked with Bram Morrison all three days, and by Sunday night everything was reorganized and rearranged, and the promoters were satisfied. As usual, Allegra had done a good job, and Bram was pleased. Mission accomplished.

And on Sunday night, Jeff amazed her with a small black suede box that he'd been planning to give her in New York, but they weren't going back there now for another month and he didn't want to wait any longer.