All I Need (2 page)

***

Daniel strode into the church bathroom and his shoe slipped again. “Bugger.”
This won’t do, at all.
He surveyed the room, taking in the faintly crackled ancient mirror, the sculpted porcelain sinks. He ran his hand over the rough stone wall.
Could work.
He removed one shoe and began rubbing the smooth sole against the uneven bricks.

“If you’re attempting to tunnel out, I’d suggest using something a bit sharper than a shoe.” The booming voice behind him was a welcome sound. Arnold, his faculty advisor and longtime friend, was the closest thing to a parent figure Daniel had had since his mother had passed away, years before.

Daniel laughed. “I’m trying to avoid turning my wedding dance into an amateur version of the Ice Capades.”

Arnold took a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and opened a blade. “Try this.”

Daniel scraped the edge of the nail file back and forth against the sole.

“Try to bend the shoe a bit, it’s that center part that slips the most.”

When it looked sufficiently scuffed he tried it on and took a test step.
Traction.
“Brilliant.”

“I’ve slid across more dance floors than I care to recall. The wife taught me this trick after I almost took out a wedding cake.”

Daniel went to work on the other sole. “Remind me to thank her later.” He stepped into the shoe. “Perfect.” He stretched in an attempt to get the kinks out of his back, but only succeeded in making his shirt puff from beneath his vest. “You never see James Bond struggling with his wardrobe.” He looked in the mirror, retucking.

“Relax.” Arnold waved his hand. “Women designed these things to get back at menfolk  for all the years when corsets were in style. You’re fine. Here.” He gave a sharp tug on the coat tails of Daniel’s jacket and all the bunched up bits lay flat again.

“Thanks.”

Arnold nodded, keeping one hand on Daniel’s shoulder until their eyes met. Arnold’s calm smile reminded Daniel to breathe, which somehow made him even more acutely aware of how nervous he felt. “How are you holding up? You’ve got quite the crowd gathering out there.”

“So it seems. I’d have preferred a small ceremony in the park. Seems a bit odd to have so many strangers at such a personal event.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret I learned a few decades ago. Weddings are all about the bride. All the groom has to do is show up, smile and say ‘I do.’”

Daniel’s heart beat an uneven rhythm.
Say “I do.” Right.

“You okay?” Arnold’s thick grey brows pinched together as he studied Daniel.

“Fine.” Daniel nodded, though he was quite overwhelmed. It felt as if the day was happening to him. “Bit out of my element, honestly. Haven’t ever even attended a wedding, let alone been the groom.”

“Never been to a wedding? Not even as a child?”

“Afraid not. No family to speak of. It was just me and my mum. Closest I ever came was as a lad, watching people come and go from the church up the street from my house in Oxford. Main thing I remember is that the women always wore outlandish hats.”

“British women and their hats. I’ve never really understood that.”

“Neither have I. Mum said it was just tradition. Women wore hats to church so for a special event like a wedding they wore their best one.”

“I’m guessing you’re wishing your mother could have been here today.”

Daniel’s lips tugged into a smile. “Yes, she always did love an excuse to buy a new hat.” He tried for a laugh but it didn’t quite work.  The truth was he missed her far more than he cared to admit. He’d have given anything to have had her there.

“I’m sure she’d have loved to have had the chance to meet Justine. Mothers always want to size up the women their sons marry.” The compassion in Arnold’s voice was soothing. He’d always had an uncanny knack at helping Daniel calm down---before giving his graduation speech, while preparing his dissertation and now again as he managed to find a comforting way for Daniel to remember his mother.

“Yes, she’d definitely have done that.”

“Well, since your mom can’t be here to ask the tough questions, I’m going to ask you the same thing I asked my sons on their wedding days. Do you love her?”

The question took Daniel by surprise, but he answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

Arnold smiled, the crinkled skin around his eyes softening his expression. “Good. That’s all you need.”

***

Justine craned her neck to look out the narrow church window.
Where the hell is she?
The wedding was due to start ten minutes ago and she was still down one bridesmaid. First the florist had delivered the wrong bouquets, then the church had decorated the pews with red bows instead of the white ones she’d specially ordered, and now this.
What next?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Daniel. She envisioned him, waiting at the end of the aisle, dashing in his black Armani tux, dark hair irresistibly tousled, crooked smile making her melt. She blew the breath out slowly.
You’re getting married today. Nothing else matters.
Even though she was only twenty-three, Justine had been waiting for this day for years. She still remembered the first time she’d laid eyes on Daniel.

It was her junior year at NYU and she’d grown restless with the guys she’d been dating. She decided it was time to bump up her long range plan, and play catch-up with her brothers. They were all either engaged or married and Justine was still the child, the little girl. A husband, a permanent male fixture by her side, rather than an unknown cast of characters accompanying her to weddings and events, would certainly help her to be looked at as older, taken more seriously.

The problem was finding someone. It’s not that she hadn’t been trying—she went on dates like no other twenty-year-old, with nearly fevered determination—it’s just that her dates were far from ideal. And to be her husband, a man needed to be as close to perfect as one could get. Not an easy find. Older men were too boring and unappealing. She tried an up and coming actor, but he’d been conceited and not at all focused on her. She dated a member of a successful band, but he’d been so coked up and strung out he’d scared her. Plus she’d nearly passed out while waiting for the results of her AIDS tests after she’d realized how many women he’d screwed. Deciding she never wanted to go through that kind of stress and worry ever again, she became even more determined to find a man she could stand to be with on a permanent basis.

She was narrowing her list of acceptable candidates with almost frightening speed and was beginning to wonder if the guy she was looking for even existed. Then she heard some girls talking in the cafeteria.

“There he is,” one whispered.

“Where? Where? Oh my God, you’re right. It’s him.”

Justine grew curious.

“Holy shit, he’s even more gorgeous in person,” another voice said. Justine still had no idea whom they were talking about, but she was definitely curious. She glanced around in an attempt to see.

“I’ve heard he’s shy.”

“So have I. My friend Bonnie tried to talk to him in French class. She said he was flustered the whole time.”

“My boyfriend knows one of his suitemates and told me Daniel is completely freaked out by all the attention he’s getting.”

Justine scanned the cafeteria, eyes narrowed.
Who is this Daniel person? All these people look so ordinary
.

“Well, can you even imagine? One day you’re just a student walking around, minding your own business and the next day you’re on the cover of the freaking
Voice
.”

The word “
Voice”
made Justine snap to attention. She’d seen a copy on the chair at the far end of her table. She slid over and reached for it. Her breath caught in her throat. The guy on the cover was decidedly hot. Not classically beautiful, features a tad asymmetrical, nose a little curved to one side, but the look, his eyes, his expression, the overall image--striking.
And he’s here?

“There he is, there he is, he’s getting juice,” one of the girls whispered, her voice frantic, the desire palpable.

Justine turned toward the drink counter, and sure enough, there he was. He looked different than his photo. More innocent, less sultry. He was tall and thin, and practically hunched over, as if he was trying to disappear rather than be noticed. She watched him move. No less than five girls crossed his path and tried to speak to him as he made his way to the table where his friends sat. He looked embarrassed, dark red splotches highlighted both sculpted cheekbones. His friends laughed and patted him on the back.

She scanned the article, noting his name and the fact that he was in her year, but there were no other details, he was just the face they’d chosen for their expose on the unknown futures of today’s college students. 
That’s not nearly enough information. Sure, he’s gorgeous, but who is he?
She needed to know and she planned to find out.

No information was off-limits. She got the desk clerk to acknowledge that Daniel resided at Hayden hall with one soulful look, and it only took slightly more effort to coax the blushing, acne-scarred registrar’s assistant into handing over a copy of Daniel’s class schedule.

She found out he was an English major, and was regarded in the department as a “promising writer”.  Everyone seemed to have a positive impression of him. No dirt. Nothing scandalous. Not gay. No string of broken-hearted women complaining that he was a womanizing ass. No roommates requesting room changes because he was weird or obnoxious.

The only puzzling thing was that he didn’t appear to have a girlfriend. That struck her as odd, because he was very attractive and could clearly have his pick of any of the women who were following him around campus trying to get a glimpse of him.

Justine decided he was worth getting to know better. From what she’d learned she realized the best way to do that would be by not letting on that she knew anything whatsoever about any cover photos. It needed to look like a chance encounter and she had to make sure that he pursued her, because the women who were attempting to pursue him seemed to be meeting with no luck at all.

She started dining at Hayden regularly, at times when his schedule would make it likely he might be eating. Within a week she saw her opportunity. She waited in the lobby until he entered the dining hall, then followed him inside. There were almost no empty seats.

The food line was extra long so Justine opted for a glass of soda as she watched him fill his tray. There was one table emptying on the far side of the room and he appeared to be making his way toward it. She scooted around the side of the room, reaching the table before him.

This is almost too easy
. She put her drink down and slipped into a chair seconds before he arrived.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, and to her surprise she heard a British accent. She’d done her homework, but she hadn’t known about that. She liked being surprised. It didn’t happen all that often.

“No, go ahead,” she said.

“I’m Daniel.” He extended his hand. Coming from anyone else this gesture would have seemed phony, but he performed it with such sincerity she found it charming.

“Justine.” She smiled as their fingers touched.

She kept the conversation casual, but tried to be as friendly as possible. She hated small talk and she knew most guys did too, so she chose her words with care, saying just enough. And it worked. She walked with him to their next class, and before they parted ways he asked her if she’d like to have a drink.

To make matters even better he seemed nice.  She was used to men who wanted her and fawned all over her. She was also used to men who looked down at her, like her brothers and father. Solidly nice wasn’t something she ran across very often. It piqued her interest even further regarding how much potential Daniel might have as her future husband.

That evening they’d talked and laughed for hours over drinks and French fries, which he’d insisted on calling chips, even after she’d corrected him. His fingers intertwined with hers as he walked her home. She liked the feel of his hand on hers, warm and strong. When they got to her building he’d pulled her aside, his thumb tracing over her wrist in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Can I ring you?” he asked.

“Sure.” She wrote her number on a slip of paper and watched as he placed it in his wallet, hoping he actually would call.

“I guess this is good night then.” His head tilted and he hesitated for a moment, making Justine hold her breath as she waited to see if he’d kiss her. Then his mouth was on hers, firm but gentle.  He cupped the back of her head with one hand and placed the other on her cheek as his lips moved sensually over hers, leaving her breathless. She was impressed and more than a little turned on.
Serious potential.

He held eye contact for a moment then gave her a smile she felt all the way to her toes. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he backed away. “Sleep well.”

Watching him go it took every ounce of self-control not to call after him. Ask him to come up to her room. She would have slept with him that night, based on that kiss, but she knew she had to take her time.