“Just a second,” I mumbled as I pulled my cell phone out of the purse. I typed the message quickly, including both Roxanna and Gen:
You realize the cane is a bit obnoxious, right?
Gen messaged:
I asked him to wear a disguise that would blend in at a five star restaurant…I guess I should have been more specific.
Roxanna messaged:
Just be glad he left the biker gear at home.
She had a point. I really liked Richard—he was book smart, gadget smart, and incredibly entertaining with his monologues of misconstrued ideas of what women really wanted out of a relationship. But as an undercover spy, he was horrible—blindingly so.
“What are you looking at?” Jeremy asked, and shifted in his chair so he could glance sideways at the bar. He took one look at Richard and snickered. “What a freak.”
“Is that asshole talking about Richard?”
Roxanna seethed.
The waitress arrived with the scotch—the perfect distraction from reaching over the table and strangling Jeremy with his tie. Had he always been such a snob? How had I blocked out all of his faults?
Why?
Had I been so focused on getting to the happy ending, I’d blinded myself to the toad in front of me?
This possibility—and probability—was so utterly depressing, it robbed me of every ounce of tolerance for this meeting.
“Let’s get back on topic.” I set my phone down.
When Jeremy reached across the table and took my hand, I nearly jumped out of my seat. From the corner of my eye, Richard jerked in reaction. Afraid Richard would come charging over, I sent him a wide-eyed stare and a quick shake of my head which looked more like a neck-twitch.
Jeremy stared back at me with a question in his gaze, though I didn’t know what part of me trying to yank my hand away was unclear. He wouldn’t let go.
“Jeremy, I don’t think—”
“I panicked, Lexie.” He held on to my hand, his gaze registered desperation. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Don’t you remember all the hours I was putting in at the law office?”
“
Did he seriously just go there?”
Roxanna asked.
“I should have done things differently. I know that now,” Jeremy said. “You have no idea how sorry I am—how much I wish I could do it all over again.”
“Jeremy, please, let’s not do this, okay?” This time, when I tugged my hand back, he let go of it. To be safe, I hid my hands under the table, out of his reach.
“I want you back.”
My eyes widened. “What? You have a girlfriend.”
“But she’s not you.”
“Jeremy—”
“I’ve been calling you, and you won’t answer. I sent you flowers, and you didn’t call me back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand. “She’s just a friend of the family.”
I crossed my arms. “Exactly. Your parents approve of her. But I really don’t want to talk about this. I came here because—”
“Please. Let’s try again?” he asked, and I shook my head. And then he was on his knees beside my chair.
The scene was eerily familiar, except the first time it had played out, I’d been blushing and in love, and so deliriously happy my hands wouldn’t stop shaking as he placed the ring on my finger. This time, my stomach curdled and my blood ran cold.
Dear God, if he pulls out a ring…
“This dude is proposing!” Richard exclaimed, loud enough so I could hear, the entire room could hear.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“What the hell’s happening?”
Roxanna demanded in my ear.
“Richard told Gen he’s proposing!”
But I couldn’t answer. I could barely breathe.
His grip was like a vise around my hand. The blood rushed in my ears. With my free hand, I gripped the back of the chair as I sat sideways to face him—he gave me no other choice since he wouldn’t let go of my hand.
“Jeremy, get up,” I hissed, glancing around the room at the diners who kept glancing at us.
“I just want you to know how sorry I am about what happened. But we can try again.”
“We’re not doing any such thing. Your mom—”
“Doesn’t have to know,” he interrupted, his gaze wide and hopeful.
“What?” He made no sense. I shook my head. “Jeremy—”
“We’ll keep it a secret. No one has to know.”
I shuddered as realization dawned on me. My skin crawled. “You mean, like a mistress?
Are you even listening to yourself?
Jeez
, Jeremy. You are such an asshole.”
“No! I don’t mean like that.” He shook his head. “We’ll just hide it from her for awhile. Until she calms down about dad losing the election.” He clasped my hand tighter, more desperate. “And then we’ll tell her later.”
I laughed dryly. “What, like a year from now? Two years?”
His expression told me he thought it was a good idea. I wanted to choke him.
“Jeremy, forget it.” I tugged my hand away again, and he let go this time. “I’m not interested, and neither are you. How pathetic and desperate do you think I am? I’m not some kind of tramp you can—”
“You’re not a tramp, I just don’t—”
“I know I’m not a tramp,” I snapped.
“Please, Lexie. I love you.” He placed his hand on my knee.
“No, you don’t. If you loved me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s too late.” I glared down at him. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I’m not interested in trying to save what you already threw away.”
His face broke, but I couldn’t let myself feel any sympathy for him. All of this was the result of his choice, a choice he’d made for us without asking me. Maybe he had loved me. Maybe he’d even been heartbroken. But he hadn’t been living the nightmare I’d been living these last few months, a nightmare caused by his mom.
His parents would always dominate every aspect of his existence. They would push him and mold him into whatever they wanted—the future president of the United States, if the Buchanans had their way. Deborah and Gerard would never consider me First Lady material. To them, I was nothing more than white trash. Our marriage would never have lasted, even without the contract they’d forced on me. I should have realized it sooner.
“Meeting you was a bad idea.” I scooted my chair away from him, and his hand dropped from my knee. “Your mom blames me for your dad losing the election, and she’s ruining my life because of it.” I stood and took my coat off the back of the chair. With my clutch in hand, I took a step away from the table. “Talk to her—you know it’s wrong what she’s doing. She lied to the world on TV about what happened, and my reputation is ruined.
I am going to lose my business.
If you want to make things right, fix it. Please.”
Jeremy was slow to rise from his knee, his brows furrowed. “I’ll make it right, I promise. I’ll prove to you how much I love you.” He stepped to close the distance, taking my hand in his. “You have to believe me. We can wait her out.”
“Let go, Jeremy.”
“We can make this work,” he insisted.
“I’m serious. Let go.” We were now the couple in the corner causing a scene. I glanced around at the curious faces turned our way.
This is not good. At all.
“Baby, please.”
“Don’t do this,” I whispered, though I wanted to scream at him. How dare he? What the hell was he thinking?
“You still love me. You have to.” He yanked me into his arms and his lips covered mine. The wet, sloppy kiss made me gag, giving him the perfect opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth.
I pulled away and slapped him across the face. Hard. Before he had a chance to react, I was yanked away from him.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend,” Richard said, and sirens screeched in my head.
“Lexie?” Jeremy asked, his bewildered gaze darting back and forth between me and Richard.
“Richard?” I shook my head. Things had gotten way out of hand.
“Yeah. She’s my girl.” Richard puffed out his tuxedoed-chest.
“Oh crap,” I whispered.
You have a…boyfriend?” Jeremy’s cheek was pink from me slapping him.
I shook my head. “He’s—”
“Ready to go,” Richard interrupted and spun me around, pulling me behind him. “Whipped Hooker,” Richard said to Gen through his earpiece. “We need an extraction. Now.” Coupled with his costume, his words made him sound crazy.
“
We’re ready! Abort! Abort!”
Roxanna said into my ear, and the crackle followed by silence told me she had hung up.
I glanced over my shoulder at Jeremy who stood where I left him. I looked away so I wouldn’t fall. Richard had me by the hand, and I had to pick up the pace to keep up with him. I stumbled around a table, the entire time,
oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,
played through my head.
We made it through the restaurant in record time and burst through the front door and out into the cold. Shivering, I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened. Richard was beside me, the cane in his hand, his top hat pulled low on his forehead, looking as shell-shocked as I felt.
“Holy shit,” he said.
Scared Jeremy might follow us, I grabbed Richard’s hand to pull him down the sidewalk to the street corner. “Come on, we better go.”
Roxanna’s SUV was parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant. Gen stood on the sidewalk, waving at us beside the open vehicle door. “Hurry up!” she called out before jumping into the passenger seat.
We piled into the back seat, and before Richard pulled the door shut, Roxanna pulled away from the curb.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know what else to do—he wouldn’t let you go,” Richard said, tossing his hat between us onto the seat.
I closed my eyes and slumped down, resting my head back against the seat. “It’s okay. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
“Yeah, really,” Roxanna said from the driver’s seat. “Jeremy is a moron.”
“This was a dumb idea,” I said. “A really dumb idea.”
“It wasn’t dumb. We had to try,” Gen said, and I opened my eyes. “What the hell is wrong with that guy?”
Roxanna’s gaze connected with mine through the rearview mirror. “And I don’t think he’s going to talk to his mom for you. He’s a wuss.”
“Oh man, I really screwed up, didn’t I,” Richard worried.
“No, you didn’t,” I said with a shake of my head. “None of this was your fault.”
“You did great. You did,” Gen soothed, and reached back to pat his knee.
He beamed at her. “Oh good. I kind of panicked.” Then he grinned. “But did you see his face?”
“He didn’t look good,” I said. I might never get Jeremy’s wounded expression out of my head. “At least it’s over.”
“Hey, any time you guys need me for something like this, I’m your guy.” He tugged at the suit jacket. “I’m good for it.”
I smiled at him. “I don’t think we’ll be doing anything like this ever again.”
As I rode in the backseat, staring out the window into the dark at the houses we passed, I worried over the many ramifications of tonight’s events. Jeremy wouldn’t help me now. Not after I’d humiliated him in public. Again. He’d deserved the slap across the face—for today, and for the wedding. It’d been liberating, but I feared I’d only made things worse.
Maybe I worried because I was used to worrying.
Please let that be the case.
I stood in front of the boutique’s newest wedding gown, humming along to the radio. This dress would be the show-stealer for the bridal expo. Every time I looked at it, I got chills up and down my spine. It was as beautiful as my own wedding dress, but cost half as much. One look at this gown, and the brides would be lining up at my door. I snapped another picture of it as the door rattled open and the bell above it jingled.
Holding the door open with one hand, my sister, Catherine, pushed a twin baby stroller forward. She was bundled up in a large blue parka, a burgundy crocheted scarf wrapped around her neck. Snow swirled in through the open door. Behind her, vehicles sloshed through the snow on the street.
“Hi,” I said as the front wheels of the stroller caught on the door.
Catherine stumbled, arms full of a diaper bag and an oversized purse I knew weighed more than two of my purses put together. She shoved the stroller one more time, a bit harder, and the stroller bounced over the doorway and into the boutique.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Catherine muttered, and pushed a thick chunk of curly blonde hair out of her face. She looked up at me. “Why aren’t you answering your cell phone?”
“My ringer must be muted or something.” My gaze shot to my purse on a shelf behind the counter. “Is everything all right?”
“No, everything is
not
all right.” She pushed the stroller to the counter and pulled her phone from the cup holder near the stroller handle. “These babies won’t sleep, and I’m tired, and I had to use a sick day this week because they aren’t sleeping. And then on the way to Mom’s I got a flat tire. And Tony is on a stakeout some-freaking-where, so when I called Gen, she said to call Roxanna, because Gen’s out of personal time. And Roxanna doesn’t know how to change a flat either so she sent Leo.”
“
Jeez,
slow down. It sounds like everything’s okay, right?” I asked. There were dark circles under Catherine’s eyes.