The Wedding Wish

Isabel and Cindy stood beside the punch table, waiting for the server to pour them each another glass. “Another day, another department wedding,” Cindy said with a sigh.
    “I know,” Isabel retorted under her breath. “You wouldn’t think there were so many starving artists bent on tying the knot.”
    “I think it’s sweet,” Cindy said. “Though in practical terms, I believe you’ve got the right idea.”
    Isabel lifted her brow.
    “A doctor? Just think of all the art supplies his salary could buy!”
    “Just think of all the school loans he’ll be repaying,” Isabel quipped back.
    “I guess you’ve got a point.” She accepted her refilled cup with a nod and turned back to Isabel. “But he won’t be repaying them forever.”
    “I’m not after Robert for the money.”
    “You’re right. There’s the body too.”
    Isabel felt herself blush. “Okay, I’ll admit to a bit of physical attraction.”
    “Only a bit?”
    “More than a bit, and you know it.”
    “Boy, wouldn’t I like to. Hey, does he have a brother?”
    “Sorry. Only a sister. And she’s married.”
    “Too bad. I was hoping his genes run in the family.”
    “Want to get some wedding cake?” Isabel asked.
    “Sure,” Cindy said as they made their way across the room.
    As Cindy scarfed down her piece, Isabel neatly wrapped hers in a napkin.
    “What on earth are you doing?”
    “Saving mine for later.”
    “You’re not hungry?”
    “No. I’m hopeful.”
    “Hopeful of what?”
    Isabel lowered her voice in a whisper. “Do you know that old tradition? The one about sleeping with a piece of wedding cake under your pillow?”
    “Sounds more like a superstition to me.”
    “You’re supposed to dream of the man you’re going to marry.”
    “Get out. Have you done it before?”
    “Only about a billion times. But that was before.”
    “What do you mean, before ?”
    “Back in the day. When I was a kid. I guess you could say I was something of a wedding-cake junkie.”
    “No kidding.”
    Isabel shook her head.
    “But you never ate it?”
    “Couldn’t. That would have been bad luck.”
    “Now you tell me.” Cindy stared down at her empty plate and frowned before looking back up. “So spill it. Who did you dream of? Movie stars? Recording artists? The boy next door?”
    “Yeah, him .”
    “ Him who?”
    “Robert,” Isabel said in a whisper. “It was always Robert.” She held up a hand in a pledge. “I swear. Only him. Even after he’d moved away.”
    “Wow. That’s impressive. What did you have? Some sort of obsessive disorder?”
    Isabel swatted her. “Shut up. I was a kid. A kid with a crush.”
    Cindy eyed her astutely. “Something tells me you haven’t outgrown it.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not,” Isabel said with a toss of her head.
    Cindy studied her wrapped-up piece of wedding cake with suspicion. “And what are your plans for that little slice of heaven?”
    “I guess I want to see if I still dream of the same angel.”
    “And if you don’t?”
    Isabel shrugged and took another swig of punch. “It’s just a superstition.”

    Later that night, Isabel awoke with a gasp. Ramming her hand under her pillow, she found the smashed piece of wedding cake sealed up in a baggie still there. “Well, I’ll be…” she said with a happy grin, snuggling back down in bed. The main difference between now and when she was twelve was that this time she’d not just dreamt of a guy with gorgeous brown eyes meeting her at the top of the aisle, she’d also envisioned the honeymoon. A very lovely honeymoon, with lots of vivid detail. And that Statue-of-David body? Hmm. Yes. I would know it anywhere. In—or out of —a tuxedo.

Chapter Six

    Kip adjusted his hard hat as he stood outside the Kenilworth Building on central campus. He and his capital improvements team were in the midst of erecting a brand-new building to house the growing engineering school, and boy, was it a winner, with all the bells and whistles the administration could hope for. The wealthy alumni benefactors who’d funded this project were bound to be pleased too. They were being given a hard-hat tour of the space tomorrow, and Kip and his senior foreman, Buddy, were putting the rest of the crew through the drill. Which areas were open for touring, and which—due to safety concerns—were still strictly off limits.
    Kip said a few words, then turned the floor over to Buddy to address specific questions from the rest of the men. He glanced