The Valentine’s Day Disaster (9 page)

“Yeah, because I’ll be there.”

“Josh—­”

“No arguments,” he said, and pointed toward the small gap in the curtain. “Go.”

She hardened that sexy little chin of hers and dug in her heels. “No.”

If she was going to be stubborn, then he would have to be a hard-­ass for her own good. “Don’t you get it? We’re not family. You’re not my girlfriend. I don’t need you here.”

A flash of hurt flickered in her eyes and was like a knife to his heart, slicing mean and clean, and it was all he could do not to apologize immediately and retract his declaration, but he needed her to go while he sorted out a few things.

Her back stiffened and she gave a curt nod. “ Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Don’t fret, honey. I’ll make it you up to you soon enough.
Still, it killed his soul to have to hurt her, even for a little while.

As she disappeared behind the curtain, Josh started making telephone calls.

Chapter 9

S
ESTY DIDN’T SL
EEP
a wink. Instead of going home, she went to the conference center and set up for the bachelor auction all by herself. She finished not long after dawn and took herself to breakfast at Virgil’s Diner.

Even at that early hour, even in the wake of a tornadic near miss, even though it was February fifteenth, love was still in full bloom in Twilight.

The chalkboard menu advertised the weekend special—­heart-­shaped hotcakes, scrambled-­up-­in-­love eggs, be-­my-­Valentine bacon. The bacon made her think about Josh and the anti–Valentine’s card he had given her, and she had to press the back of her hand against her nose to keep from crying.

An elderly ­couple, whose fiftieth wedding anniversary Sesty had planned the month before, were sitting in a corner booth, holding hands under the table and gazing into each other’s eyes. At the checkout counter, the cashier’s husband donned his coat and kissed her on his way out the door.

And there was Chad, coming into the diner, his arm thrown around the barista from Perks.

They even had the audacity to wave.

Sesty smiled and waved back. She didn’t care about Chad. Josh was the one breaking her heart.

It had always been Josh. She fell in love with him when she was seventeen and she’d never fallen out.

The waitress brought her coffee and took her food order. She was stirring cream into her cup when someone plunked into the seat across from her. For one second her heart skipped a beat.

Josh?

But no, it was Jana. Looking surprisingly chipper considering what she’d been through.

“What are you doing out of the hospital?” Sesty asked.

“Are you kidding? I hate hospitals. As soon as I was warmed up, I was out of there.” Jana snapped her fingers.

The waitress set Sesty’s breakfast in front of her, took Jana’s order, and moved on.

“How are you feeling?”

“With my hands,” Jana deadpanned.

“You never did tell me how come you were out in the middle of the night in the aftermath of a tornado,” Sesty said.

Jana feigned bewilderment. “I didn’t?”

“No.”

“Um . . . I might have taken advantage of Todd’s attraction to me.”

“Todd, the stage manager?”

A smug smile yanked up the corners of Jana’s lips. “Now don’t get me wrong. I didn’t trade sexual favors in exchange for him ironing out the union wrinkles. Rather, we decided to explore the chemistry
after
he proved so helpful.”

“And?”

“Not a love match, but . . .” Jana wobbled her head from side to side. “I’d go back again, although maybe not during a tornado. Although who knows? Maybe the threat of being blown away at any minute was what made the sex so hot.”

That startled Sesty. Could the storm have been the thing that made her connection with Josh so powerful? It was something a sensible woman would take into consideration.

Jana reached across the table to flitch a strip of bacon off Sesty’s plate. “Do you mind? I’m starving.”

“I thought you were vegan.”

“Sometimes. Most of the time. When I didn’t almost die in a flash flood. I woke up this morning thinking, ‘Life is short. I need bacon.’ So here I am.”

Sesty folded her hands in her lap. “Then how come you didn’t order your own bacon?”

“What?” Jana crunched the bacon, made a blissful face. “And look like a hypocrite? I’m still a vegan, this is just a near-­death-­experience thing.”

Sesty rubbed a palm over her upper arm. “I get you leaving the hospital, but what are you doing running around town? You should be home recovering.”

“I’m fine, and you’re going to need help wrangling this auction. If we get anywhere near the number of ­people who’ve told me they’re coming, it’ll be standing room only. Gotta remember to double-­check the auditorium’s fire code occupancy rate.”

“Three hundred and sixteen.”

Jana’s eyes widened. “Damn, you know your stuff, girlfriend.”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, please eat your breakfast, and then go home to bed,” Sesty said.

“Not gonna happen.” Jana made a noise of appreciation when the waitress brought the Belgium waffles she’d ordered and reached for the blueberry syrup sitting tableside.

Sesty blew out her breath so forcefully her bangs ruffled. “You’re as stubborn as Josh.”

“That guy . . .” Jana raised an index finger on the hand she was using to douse her waffle with syrup. “Now he’s a keeper and my hero. If you don’t want him, toss him my way.”

Sesty’s stomach contracted and her chest flared so hot that she had to slip out of her jacket. “The question isn’t whether I want him, but if he wants me.”

“Oh, he wants you.” Jana’s dreadlocks shook in agreement. “I’ve seen the way that man looks at you.”

“Me and a million other fan girls.”

“Don’t give me that. You mean something to him.”

Oh yeah? Then why did he throw me out of the hospital last night?
“Apparently not enough,” she mumbled.

Jana cocked her head. “What happened?”

“Let’s not talk about him. If you’re really determined to work today, let’s talk about the auction.”

“Are you going to eat the rest of your bacon?” Jana asked.

“Be my guest.” Sesty waved at her plate, but then looking at the bacon made her think of Josh again and thinking of Josh made her feel possessive. “No, I changed my mind, give it back.”

Jana deposited the bacon back on Sesty’s plate, dusted her hands together and muttered, “Stingy.”

“Backsliding vegan.”

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Jana asked softly.

“Chad?” Sesty shook her head.

“You know I’m talking about Josh.”

Sesty bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

Jana put her hand on Sesty’s. “He’s just your rebound from Chad. You’ll be over him in no time.”

Sesty met Jana’s eyes. “How I wish that were the case, but the truth is, every man I’ve ever been with was a rebound from Josh. I’ve loved him since I was seventeen years old and I probably always will.”

“Don’t give up, there’s always hope.”

Hope. Yes, well, wasn’t that what had gotten her into this situation in the first place?

T
EN MINUTES BEFORE
the bachelor auction started, three hundred sixteen women packed into the auditorium of the Twilight Conference Center—­head count courtesy of Matt Clipper, one of the burly firemen who’d pulled Jana and Josh from the water the night before. It was indeed standing room only.

Sesty was in full event planner mode. With her tablet computer tucked under her arm, she surveyed the bachelors lined up backstage—­everyone was present and accounted for and in costume except for Josh. He hadn’t shown up after all.

She told herself that it was okay. That he’d smartly taken her advice and decided to stay home and rest. She’d just step up to the microphone and inform the audience of his accident. The auction would go off without him. It wouldn’t be perfect, but there was only so much she could control.

And who knew? Maybe Jana was right. Maybe there was hope.

But she wasn’t about to do any breath holding.

Sesty surveyed the men arranged in front of her, gave them last minute coaching on how to enter and exit the stage. She adjusted costumes, reminded them to smile, and then she knew she could delay no longer. It was time to get started.

She’d turned to the front of the auditorium to address the audience when the stage door opened. Josh appeared in the doorway wearing a cumbersome brace that went from his right ankle to his thigh, and he used crutches to propel forward.

Her heart clutched, stuttered. She rushed to hold the door open for him. Too nervous to look directly in his face, she stared at his hands, wrapped around the crutches.

“Didja give up on me?” he asked.

Her gaze moved up his forearms, clad in his NASCAR jacket, to the muscular bare chest beneath. Her lips burned. Last night her mouth had been all over that chest. He’d come looking the part. Even in a brace and crushes he was going to drive the women wild.

He drove
her
wild.

“No, I know you would come,” she lied breathlessly.

“They had some trouble fitting me with the brace,” he said. “Or I would have been here sooner.”

At last she gathered the courage to look him in the face. The teasing light in his eyes had hope flaring inside her. Maybe . . . maybe . . .

“I’ve got to go get this thing started,” she said. “Have a seat backstage. You’re on last and you promised Dr. Singh you wouldn’t be on your feet longer than ten minutes.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” He gave a jaunty salute.

Skin tingling, head dizzy, Sesty stepped around the curtain and onto the stage. She stared out at the sea of women and for one moment a wave of stage fright rushed over her.
Breathe.

She stepped to the microphone and in a daze started her speech. She must have done all right because after she finished talking about Holly’s House, the room burst into hearty applause. She turned the proceedings over to the auctioneer, stepped out of the limelight and headed back behind the scenes, where she felt most comfortable.

Stepping off the stage, she noticed something going on at the front door. As discreetly as possible, she scurried toward the front. The fireman stood at the open door between the lobby and the auditorium, blocking the way. His arms were folded over his chest and he was shaking his head at a woman. All Sesty could see of her was blond hair.

“You have to let me in,” she heard the woman say as she approached. “My fiancé is one of the bachelors and I need to bid on him before some bitch gets her claws into him.”

“Sorry, lady. Fire code. No one else is getting in until someone leaves.”

The blonde’s voice grew strident. “Do you have any idea who I am?

Sesty skirted around to the fireman’s side. She’d never met the blonde but had seen pictures of her in magazines and on TV.

Miley Hunter.

And she was a hundred times more beautiful in person than in commercials. Miley possessed creamy flawless skin, a curvy but trim figure, mile long legs, and Angelina Jolie lips. She was, in a word, everything that Sesty was not.

Perfect.

Obviously, the woman was here to win Josh back.

Sesty’s gaze dropped to the ring finger of Miley’s hand. A three-­caret, marquee-­cut diamond sparkled there. All hope fled. If this woman wanted Josh back, she would get her way. Then an even worse thought occurred to her. What if Josh had called her and asked her to come to the auction? What if he wanted her there?

Oh God, she might just throw up.

“What’s going on, Matt?” Sesty forced a smile and touched Matt’s shoulder.

“Are you in charge?” Miley asked.

“I am.”

“Will you please tell the incredible hulk here that I must get in? My fiancé is one of the bachelors—­”

“Yes,” Sesty said. “I heard you, but we’re full to capacity.”

Miley’s eyes turned mean. “Until someone leaves. Make someone leave so I can come in.”

Sesty had to bite her tongue to keep from telling the woman what a spoiled brat she was, but Miley was already causing enough of a scene. Heads were turning, women taking their attention off Ian, who was on the auction block. For the sake of Holly’s House and the wonderful work they did there, she had to smooth this over.

“But of course,” Sesty said. “I’ll leave and you can come in, but let me forewarn you, there’s no place to sit.” She ducked under Matt’s arm and stepped into the lobby.

“Shows how little you know me.” Miley tossed her head and marched into the auditorium.

Sesty watched her go up to a woman on the back row and hand her a hundred dollar bill in exchange for her seat.

Dammit.

“That one’s a brat,” Matt said. “I don’t care how beautiful she is. Pretty is as pretty does.”

“She’s used to getting her way.”

“So why did you give in to her?” Matt asked.

“For the good of the event.”

“Is she really Josh Langtree’s fiancé?”

“She was until she cheated on him. I guess she’s trying to win him back.”

“Whew.” Matt blew out his breath. “He’s got a firebrand on his hands with that one.”

Firebrand.

Something she definitely was not.

Sesty stood in the lobby, observing the auction. More than anything, she wanted to get the hell out of here, but she was in charge. She’d see this through to the end.

It took an entire hour to get to the last bachelor. Number twelve.

Josh.

Hardly anyone had left the building. They’d come to see—­and bid on—­their homegrown NASCAR star. As she watched the women go into a bidding frenzy over the man she loved, it occurred to Sesty that she never stood a chance with Josh. He was too talented, too accomplished, just too damn hot for one woman.

She was out of her league and she knew it, as she’d known it at seventeen. Nothing had changed. He was still big-­time and she was still small town.

This was the real reason she had let him go. Not because he was a daredevil. Not because her parents disapproved of him. But because she was scared she wouldn’t measure up.

Fear.

That’s what had been holding her back. Fear of loss, rejection, heartbreak. So she’d broken up with him before he’d broken up with her.

When Miley won the bidding, it was no surprise. She had the looks to intimidate the other women and the money to outbid them. What did surprise Sesty was that Miley was willing to yell out, “Twenty-­five thousand dollars!” when the previous bid had only been seven thousand.

That ended the auction on the spot, and the auctioneer called for Sesty to come back up onstage.

Matt pushed her forward and she walked up the aisle to thunderous applause. When Jana announced that they’d raised a total of forty-­two thousand dollars, the crowd was on their feet by the time Sesty reached the stage.

A standing ovation.

For her.

It should have been a great moment. She’d achieved her goal. Done what she set out to do. Put together a perfect bachelor auction and funded the coffers of Holly’s House so they could assist needy families get health care. Her event helped bring tourists into town, fill rooms at the B&Bs, and brought business to the restaurants and shops.