“Got it,” I say, grateful for the warning. Knowing Yuna, her mom might’ve hired an entire circus—or something similarly outrageous.
By the time Edgar pulls into Tony’s driveway, we’re half an hour late. Security men in black suits, sunglasses and earpieces are everywhere. They’re all Asian and all look extremely fit—probably Yuna’s mom’s people.
Edgar uses his own code for the security pad at the gates. The guards look us over but don’t stop us.
“Wow. This feels like a foreign dignitary function,” I whisper. “I went to a party hosted by a Chinese ambassador once. It was pretty intense.”
“How were you invited to something like that?”
“I was helping his wife look perfect.” The woman wanted somebody to make her look fashionably American.
Edgar nods. “Well, whatever Yuna’s mother originally had in mind has probably been toned down with Ivy’s objections.”
Edgar parks, and we go to the main entrance together. The cars are all fancy—and expensive. Collectively, their value is probably enough to buy a mansion.
Edgar leads me into the house. A uniformed staff member—another Asian in a black suit, also fitted with an earpiece—smiles and gestures in the right direction.
We walk through a corridor. Some classical music comes from the end of the hall.
Two women in black suits open the door for us, and we enter the room.
Whoa.
Sunlight pours in through the huge windows, and everything glitters like gemstones. A grand piano shines like polished onyx, and a string quartet is set up next to it. Giant ice sculptures of twin cherubs sit in the center. One is holding a sword, and the other is holding a…
…a wad of cash?
I squint. It must be cash; there’s a faint dollar sign carved into the ice. I don’t get it. But then, art isn’t my area of expertise.
Behind the ice sculptures stand what looks like a lot of pink and blue…turrets? It almost looks like they’re pieces of a miniature castle.
Next to them is a buffet table, but the waitstaff is also circulating with trays laden with finger foods and drinks.
People are already seated on sectionals, armchairs, benches and more. Some are standing around in threes and fours, chatting. I recognize quite a few of the guests—Court and Pascal, Yuna, Elizabeth and her so-called assistant, who looks like he’d rather eat glass than be here. And Paige and Ryder Reed… I swear the man’s even better looking than before, which has to be from some kind of sorcery. Or maybe God just really loves him. They’re chatting with Nate and Evie, who has a hand resting on her small bump. She’s showing, despite her empire-waist dress.
Tony and Ivy occupy a white loveseat with fleur-de-lis patterns in gold. Ivy glows, happiness and contentment obvious in her relaxed pose and smile. Her royal-purple empire dress is feminine and pretty and fits her well.
Edgar and I go to her and Tony to say hello first.
“You made it,” Tony says with a big grin. “Thought you were stuck in Louisiana.”
“Nothing will keep me there over a weekend,” Edgar says as Tony stands and they exchange a man hug.
Ivy starts to stand, and I shake my head. “Don’t.” I bend down to hug her. “How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic. The twins are very energetic right now.”
“They’ve been kicking all day long,” Tony explains with pride. “Strong kids.”
“They know it’s a special day. Babies always know,” an Asian woman says, walking up to us.
Although I’ve never seen her before, I immediately notice the similarities between her and Yuna—the shape of their eyes and mouth. Yuna’s mom has aged very well. I would’ve never realized she has a child in her twenties if we’d met under different circumstances. Her red-brown hair is twisted into an elegant updo held with a couple of pearl and diamond pins. A purple Gucci looks fabulous on her slim frame, and her glittery blue stilettos are to die for. The chandelier earrings dangling from her earlobes are huge—overwhelmingly so. But she pulls them off with confidence and pizzazz.
“Lady Min, meet Jo Martinez,” Edgar says with a warm smile he didn’t show his own father. “The woman I’m going to marry.”
I beam at the label. It just seems so fitting he says that. And I like the way it sounds on his lips.
Her dark eyes focus on me. “How lovely.” She extends a hand, and we shake. Amazing. Her skin’s softer than silk. “You have excellent taste in men.”