As usual, her mom was correct. Everything about the ceremony had been gorgeous, if not a little too traditional for her tastes. Considering Trent’s wife came from a large Italian family, it made sense that they’d gotten married in the Catholic Cathedral on Fenner Street in downtown Providence.
“It was, and I love Addison’s gown.” Kiera looked across the room. “The bridesmaids’ gowns are beautiful, too.”
She watched Trent’s sister dance with a gorgeous man in dress blues. Thanks to the media—and her mother—she knew that the man with Trent’s sister was one of Addison’s older brothers.
“Mark must be thrilled everyone made it today.”
Others might find it odd that her mom called her employer by his first name, but not Kiera. Over the years, the line between employer and employee had blurred between the Sherbrookes and Renaults, which explained their presence at the wedding today. Although still a large reception, only immediate family and close friends filled the ballroom.
“Your dad overheard Mark and Abby the other night. Mark was worried Gray wouldn’t make it. He missed Trent’s bachelor party.”
Kiera looked across the room at Gray, who sat in conversation with his cousin Sara and her fiancée. “Really?”
Trent and Gray had a good sibling relationship, or at least they had growing up. She had seen it first-hand, spending much of her childhood tagging along with the two of them as they explored their parents’ estates in Barrington and on Martha’s Vineyard.
Her mom nodded. “And he never showed up for the New Year’s Eve party, according to your grandfather.”
Despite his advanced years, her grandfather, Henri Renault, still ruled the kitchen of Cliff House, something he’d done for well over thirty years.
“I didn’t think he ever missed that.”
“Your father heard Mark say he’s worried Gray’s taking up where Trent left off with women.” Her mom leaned a little closer. “I’ve always adored Trent, but he was a terrible player, with a different woman on his arm every other week. It drove his father crazy.”
Her mom didn’t have to tell her what a playboy Trent had been before meeting Addison. The media had done a fabulous job documenting his activities. When she’d first heard Trent was getting married, she’d wondered if Mom had gotten it wrong.
Kiera glanced at her mother. “He’s probably just busy.”
She hadn’t spent much time with Gray over the past few years, but she didn’t see him jumping from one woman to the next the way Trent had.
Then again, people changed. Weren’t they, right now, celebrating the marriage of Trent Sherbrooke, a man the world never envisioned married?
“I hope that’s all. I think Trent already gave Mark enough stress.”
Although it shouldn’t matter to her one way or the other, she hoped she was right, too. Kiera’s eyes drifted in Gray’s direction again.
As she watched, Sara said something that caused Gray to shake his head and frown. In the process, their eyes meet. Right away, his frown reversed direction, and he waved.
Kiera returned the gesture and expected him to continue his conversation. Instead, he said something to Sara, then headed her way.
Wow, the man rocked a tuxedo. Then again, he’d make a toga look hot. Grayson Sherbrooke, like everyone else in the Sherbrooke family, had hit the jackpot in the gene department. Tall and blessed with an athletic physique, he’d inherited his father’s dirty blond hair and his mother’s light blue eyes. It was no wonder every magazine editorial staff loved to put him on their cover.
“Annette, how are you?” Gray sat down at the table and smiled at her mom. “Is Mathieu here, too?”
“He went to get some drinks.” Her mom patted Gray’s hand. “You’ve been away too long. We’ve all missed you.”
“I know, but now that I’m here, I plan to take advantage of Mathieu’s cooking.”
“If you want something exceptional, Kiera’s the one you want cooking for you.” Her mom looked around as if to make sure her husband wasn’t within hearing. “Her culinary skills surpass even her grandfather’s now.”
Kiera heard the pride in her mom’s voice, and even though she didn’t agree, the praise pleased her.
Gray looked her way. “Doesn’t surprise me.” He paused, than got a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Do you still specialize in chocolate cupcakes?”
“Of course. What else?”
Gray’s comment brought up a long-forgotten memory. She’d been perhaps five or six and had made cupcakes with her dad. Once they’d cooled, he’d let her decorate them on her own. Like any good kid, she found a bag of double chocolate cookies and gummy worms. She’d crushed up the cookies and added them and the worms to the frosting on the cupcakes. Once finished, she’d snatched three and brought them to Trent and Gray’s tree house, only to find that their younger sister, Allison, had followed them that day. None of them had wanted to share the treats, so she convinced Allison that the cupcakes were covered with real worms and dirt. Allison believed her and ran off to find a more suitable snack, leaving the three of them alone to enjoy their cupcakes.