Jude (Beautiful Mine #2) (21 page)

“What the heck was that about?” Carys asked.

“Everything’s fine,” I insisted. I refused to spill my guts with Jax there. “He seems happy. Sam seems nice. The world is a wonderful place.”

Jax fiddled with the radio as he merged into traffic, hauling me back to my place where my cozy bed was calling my name. He reached across to Carys’ lap and their fingers intertwined. At least someone was happy.

JUDE

“You taking me home tonight?” Sam asked as I drove toward Beverly Hills.

“Yeah. That okay?”

“Oh.” She pouted. “I thought I was staying with you tonight?”

“We’ve spent the last five nights together. Don’t you want some space?”

She leaned over, her lips parting into an impish grin. “I like my cuddle buddy.”

Cuddle buddies. That was all we were.

“Whatever you want,” she sighed, pulling her phone out and burying her nose in it.

All these months, and she’d still barely learned the business. She was slated to take over J-Corp in three months, and if things went south between us, that deal would crumble like an avalanche and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do about it. It seemed no matter what I did, my livelihood was always a matter of balancing the beams, and no matter how successful I became, no amount of money could ever buy the one thing I needed: time.

“Goodnight,” I said, pulling up to her apartment.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, turning her body toward me as if she wanted to kiss me, but I faced away. I didn’t want to kiss Samantha. Not now. Not ever again.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Samantha said, her voice low and serious.

I couldn’t look at her. I could only nod. We both knew this day would come. We couldn’t pretend to be something we weren’t forever.

“I figured when you wouldn’t even sleep with me that you were in love with someone else,” Sam said, her voice trembling.

I reached over, taking her hand. This was harder for her than it was for me. Like most women, Sam had hope that she could change me, that with time she could make me fall in love with her.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” I turned to face her, her big, brown eyes welling with tears. “You deserve to be with someone who can’t live without you.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes.

“I’m a shell of myself without her,” I added.

“I noticed,” she huffed. “I just hoped…”

“Look,” I said. “You’re a nice girl, Samantha. I enjoy your company. But we’re not together. We never really were. You knew that, right?”

She pursed her lips, wiping away more tears and nodding. “Kind of.”

“Shit.” I sunk back into the seat of my car.

“I don’t think I can work with you anymore, Jude,” she said, indicating I’d hurt her more than I realized. “It’ll just be too weird.”

Fuck.

“I’m sure you can find another buyer for your company,” she said, her hands fumbling on the door handle as she scrambled to get out.

“Sam, wait,” I said, climbing out of the car. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We can still be friends, right? We can still work together?”

She clutched the strap of her purple leather satchel, her big brown eyes raising up to meet mine from across the hood of the car. “I can’t, Jude. I fell in love with you.”

I hung my head, burying it in my palms as the clicking of her heels indicated she was trying to get as far away from me as she could. I never intended for Sam to get hurt.

I climbed back in the car, finding myself in the midst of calling Evie, but she didn’t answer. Massaging my temples with my head low, I drew in a deep breath.

Thwack! Crack!

The crackle of glass to my left forced my eyes to squint to the point I could barely make her out. Sam stood outside my driver’s side door, black tears streaming her cheeks and the wildest eyed look on her face I’d ever seen.

This is why I don’t date.

“Sam! Stop!”

Thump! Crack!

The glass was splitting and crackling. Tiny glass pebbles fell into my lap. With her stiletto in her hand, she beat the glass of my window repeatedly until it split clear down the middle and her hand sailed through broken shards of glass.

This is why I stay far away from girls like her. They’re all fucking crazy.

I shielded my face from flying debris and climbed out, staring at the desperate girl who’d just had her heart broken. She stumbled, one foot shoeless, away from me. Her right hand clutched her spiked stiletto as blood dripped from cuts going up and down her arm.

“Sam,” I said, holding my arms out as if it could keep her from charging at me.

“You!” she screamed, chucking her shoe at me. I ducked, barely missing it as it grazed past my cheek.

“Sam, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I assured her, keeping my voice low.

“You knew what you were doing,” she seethed, running toward me like a crazy person.

Fuck me.

Her blood-soaked hands flew up at my face, her long nails scratching my skin and digging into my flesh. I wrapped my hands around her small wrists and gently pushed her back, like wind to a leaf.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked. I could still smell the booze on her from dinner. I should’ve stopped her after two drinks. Two drinks she could usually handle. Not four.

“Sam! Calm down,” I said, bass in my voice that jarred her into attention. She yanked her hands away from me and stumbled backwards.

“Everything okay, you two?” a passerby said as he walked cross the parking lot toward us.

“Yes,” I said, shooting him an understanding smile and remaining calm. I wanted to make it perfectly clear that she was the psychotic raging lunatic. Not me. “I’ve got this under control.”

“He’s a fucking dick!” Sam screamed to the guy, as he scurried off, not wanting to deal with our drama. “This is not okay!”

“Do you need me to walk you inside?” I offered. “Help get you settled?”

“Stay away from me, asshole!” she yelled, pointing her bloodied finger in my face as she stumbled backwards. “I hope someday someone hurts you the way you hurt me.”

I wanted to tell her it’d already been done.

EVIE

“There she is,” Carys said Saturday morning as we strolled across the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. Carys’ future mother in law, Georgina, was in full wedding-planning mode and insisted on booking the Beverly Wilshire for the wedding reception. “Thanks for coming with me.” Carys squeezed my hand before letting it go and running toward the open embrace of a beautiful, middle-aged woman with hair the color of onyx.

I stood in awe of Georgina. I’d seen her as we walked across the lobby, all 5’9’’ of her. Her shiny dark hair, her bronzed skin and high cheekbones, her sleek bob and the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen were practically otherworldly. Where we came from, people who looked like her didn’t exist.

Georgina’s white skinny jeans and billowy, rose pink blouse were complemented by the white Chanel purse that hung from her shoulder on a gold chain. The woman oozed grace and elegance, yet her never-ending smile made her approachable. I liked her already.

“Oh, Carys!” Georgina said as she wrapped her in a warm hug. “Good morning, my darling!”

Georgina and Carys kiss-kissed before Georgina swiftly turned her attention to me.

“This must be Evie,” she said with a glimmer in her eye. “I’ve heard so much about you from Carys. I can’t wait to hear about your European escapades!”

“It’s so nice meeting you,” I said, unable to take my eyes off her distracting beauty. She looked nothing like Jax. Nothing at all.

“Okay, ladies, I’m starving,” Georgina said, spinning her lithe frame around on one heel. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

We followed her to the dining area, where we were seated in the middle of the room. Sweeping ceilings and glimmering chandeliers invited us in, and warm, muted earth tones screamed simple sophistication. We weren’t in Kansas anymore, that was for sure. The soft, incandescent lighting that fell from above only served to make Georgina appear all the more radiant.

I perused the menu as Georgina rambled on and on to Carys about flowers and suit colors and traditions and catering. I silently observed how Carys’ life had become nothing short of a true fairy tale. She was getting her happily ever after, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

“So, Evie, what do you think?” Georgina asked, politely including me in their conversation.

My face turned five shades of crimson as I realized I’d completely tuned out the last of their conversation.

“About May?” Carys asked. “May seventh for the date?”

“May is a beautiful time of year for a wedding,” I said. “April would be too rainy and June would be too hot.”

“Exactly!” Georgina exclaimed. “My thoughts exactly, Evie.”

“May seventh, it is,” Carys said.

“So, I hope you don’t have plans after this, because I have a little surprise for you,” Georgina said, placing her hand over Carys’. Her eyes twinkled. “I made us an appointment for you to try on gowns at Monique Lhuillier!”

“What?” Carys’ jaw dropped. “Are you serious? How? She’s booked out for months.”

“I know people,” Georgina said with a wink. Of course she did. The Merediths were Hollywood royalty, Jude had mentioned once. “They pulled a few strings for us and squeezed you in. We’re scheduled from noon to two today.”

Carys bounced in her seat, unable to wipe the smile from her face. A princess dress to go with her storybook wedding couldn’t have been more perfect.

“You’re too sweet to me, Georgina,” Carys said. “Thank you. You don’t have to do any of this, you know.”

Georgina smiled warmly. She truly liked Carys. “It’s the least I can do. You’re a breath of fresh air compared to some of the other girls I’ve seen Jax with. I couldn’t be happier with his decision to marry you. I’m glad to do whatever I can to help you two get your lives started.”

My eyes watered. I could feel the love between them. Two near-strangers, bonded by their love of one man. Carys was lucky to have Georgina, and apparently, Georgina felt the same way.

After brunch, we hurried outside, where a black limo was waiting to sweep us off to Monique Lhuillier. Georgina and Carys climbed in elegantly as I nearly tripped over the carpeted exit toward the circle drive and prayed that no one saw it.

“You’ve been really quiet today,” Carys said to me in the car.

“Sorry,” I said. “Lots on my mind.”

“Life is way too short to overthink things,” Georgina piped in. “Whatever’s on your mind right now, let it go and have fun with us. That’s what life’s all about: living in the moment as much as possible.”

Georgina’s radiant smile and warm energy told me she knew a thing or two about living in the moment. Everything about her was happy and positive.

I wiped a tiny tear that formed in my eye, nodding appreciatively in her direction.

“Is it Jude?” Carys asked point blank.

“Carys!” I snapped at her, unable to fathom why she’d bring it up in front of Georgina. Jude and Jax had been friends for almost a decade. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s too bad things didn’t work out with you and Jude,” Georgina said. “He’s really a great young man. I’ve known him a very long time. He’s like a second son to me. He’s actually coming over for Christmas dinner, Evie. If you don’t have any plans, you should join us.”

Christmas was in two days. I’d planned on calling my parents, ordering Chinese takeout, silencing my phone, and curling up with as many books and movies as I could possibly cram into one day.

“That’s very kind of you,” I said. The mere possibility of seeing him with Sam again put me on the brink of a mini panic attack.

“Oh! We’re here, girls!” Georgina swiftly switched gears as we pulled up to the most beautiful boutique front I’d ever seen.

The driver opened the door and we filed out one by one, making our way inside the store.

A petite saleswoman with strawberry blonde hair greeted us with a professional smile. “You must be the Meredith party. We’re all ready for you, if you want to head back here.”

We followed her to a private fitting room in the back, where we were immediately gifted flutes of champagne and a tray of fresh, white-chocolate dipped strawberries.

“So, which one of you is the lucky lady?” she asked, scanning our faces.

Carys raised her hand, and her diamond shimmered under the soft light above. “That’d be me.”

The saleswoman asked her size and her favorite style, then walked off to pull gowns.

“The girls should be here any minute,” Georgina said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited them. They really wanted to be a part of this.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Carys insisted before turning to me. “Jax’s sisters are coming. They’re the sweetest little things. You’ll love them!”

The saleswoman pushed a huge rack of gowns into the room and began holding them up one at a time. Georgina stayed mum the entire time as Carys vetoed and green lighted various options until she narrowed it down to five.

“I’ll be back,” she said as she danced off to the fitting room.

Two girls, probably high school-aged, suddenly appeared in the doorway. Both were leggy, and one was the spitting image of Georgina, minus thirty years. The other sister had the same sandy blonde hair as Jax. Both were complete knockouts.

“Girls!” Georgina said as she stood up and greeted each of them with a kiss-kiss. “Meet Carys’ maid of honor, Evie.”

“Hi.” I waved from my seat, unsure if I should get up and greet them with the same cheek kisses their mother seemed to dole out to everyone, or if I should just be me. I settled on the latter.

“Evie, this is Zadie,” Georgina said, pointing toward her mini-me. “And my little ray of sunshine over there is Miss Zara.”

Quiet and well-mannered, the girls took a seat on the settee next to one another. They didn’t’ seem like typical high schoolers. They weren’t glued to their smart phones. They didn’t seem inconvenienced at having to be there. They were sweet and present, just like their mother.

“Well, what do you think?” A vision of cream silk-chiffon and antique lace graced our presence as Carys climbed up onto an elevated stand. Her attendant swept the bottom of her gown all around her, fluffing as she went.

“I like it,” Zadie said with a kind smile.

“I think you need something more fitted,” Zara opined. “No poufy skirt.”

Georgina just smiled. “You look radiant.”

“Evie?” Carys turned to me, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”

Surrounded by people like the Meredith women only reminded me that I wasn’t accustomed to this kind of lifestyle. I wasn’t used to fancy clothes or stores that had fittings by appointment only. I felt out of place in my jeans and blouse, and I was pretty sure the leather bag resting by Zadie’s feet cost more than I paid in rent on my apartment. I may have been a millionaire on paper, but a millionaire in spirit, I was not.

“I think you look great,” I said. She did. The girl could wear a paper bag and still look stunning. My sense of style didn’t usually range beyond Gap or Ann Taylor Loft. When I shopped, I let the store-dressed mannequins tell me what clothes went together and called it good. Most of the time, I lived in yoga pants and sweats.

The attendant helped Carys get turned around and escorted her back behind the fitting curtain for Round Two.

I sat in awkward silence with the Meredith women. Each minute that passed reminded me of how out of place I was in their world. They were all so prim and proper, stylish and well-coiffed. And I was so… Midwestern. I made myself snap out of the constant comparisons the moment Carys emerged from the fitting curtain in a tight, satin, mermaid-style gown with a crystal encrusted sash. Carys was the definition of Old Hollywood from head to toe.

“Thoughts?” Carys beamed from ear to ear, indicating she loved this one.

Georgina’s eyes lit up. “Glam. I love it.”

The girls both sat up and leaned forward, more engaged than ever before.

“This one’s my favorite of the two,” Zadie offered right away.

“I like this one better, too,” Zara echoed. She seemed to be the more reserved one of the pair.

“This is the one,” Carys said excitedly.

“Don’t forget, sweetie,” Georgina said, “you’ll need a dress for the reception, too. You’ll want a more comfortable dress to dance around and mingle in.”

Carys grinned and nodded before turning around and sweeping her way back behind the curtain.

The attendant took her measurements as Georgina left to pay the deposit on the gown. While I waited, I glanced at a price tag hanging on a ready-to-wear gown in the showroom and about fainted when five figures stared back at me. I shuddered to think of how much Georgina was paying for Carys’ dress, but I tried not to worry about it. It was none of my business.

“We ready?” Carys said once she emerged in the clothes she had on that morning.

Georgina said goodbye to her lovely daughters and they walked outside, Zadie and Zara speeding off in a white Mercedes convertible as we climbed into the limo.

“Now that your dress is picked out, we can design the ceremony around it,” Georgina said. “You’ll probably want your reception dress to flatter your ceremony dress, though it’s not the end of the world if it doesn’t mesh perfectly. I’m not worried.”

“Thank you so much, Georgina,” Carys said, her eyes watering. “For everything.”

Georgina smiled and mouthed, “You’re welcome.” Her eyes crinkled up a tiny bit at the corners, but there wasn’t a single wrinkle around her mouth or forehead. She was as youthful of a middle-aged mother as they came.

The limo took them back to the Beverly Wilshire, where we parted ways with the fabulous and elegant Georgina Meredith and headed back to my place. I was almost sad to end our day with Georgina. Something about her brought out a tiny spark in me, making me feel alive. Her magnetism and enthusiasm for life were infectious, and she was almost like a character from a movie scene who stepped off the screen and came to life. That, or a really glamorous fairy godmother.

“Isn’t Georgina great?” Carys asked once we were in her car.

“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing. You’re very lucky.”

“I just think about how this all came to be sometimes, you know? Like, if you never married Julian, you’d have never met Jude, and I’d have never met Jax,” she mused. “I feel like it’s a fluke, and I don’t deserve it. I just got lucky.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Just be grateful. That’s all you have to be.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m more than grateful,” Carys said, pulling into traffic. “I thank God fifty times a day for this life. I feel like if I don’t thank Him enough, He’ll smite me and take it all away.”

“You really don’t think you deserve this?” I turned to her. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying Jax, and this is your way of distracting yourself?”

Carys was radio silent.

“Carys,” I said. “You are, aren’t you?”

She sighed. “Jax is amazing to me, but I’ve never pictured myself as the marrying kind. You know that.”

“Just because your parents’ marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean yours is doomed, too,” I reminded her. The memory of a twelve-year-old Carys bawling her eyes out on her front porch after her parents announced their divorce was burned into my mind forever. I’d always wondered if that’s why Carys was so free-spirited and non-committal.