Holiday Wedding (Holiday Romance-Spicy Version #2)

11

Friday, December 13

days until the wedding

Jenny

When we all return to Marjorie, she’s flipping through her text messages, poring over the photos of the flowers we found in the shop. Melinda watches over her shoulder, murmuring her approval when she sees something she likes.

“Good job,” Caleb’s mom says finally, looking up from her phone. “I think I have everything we need. Who wants to go to lunch?”

Melinda waves her hands excitedly and says, “Me! I could definitely go for some food and a cup of coffee.”

“Sorry, Mom,” says Caleb. “I’ve got to run home and change before rehearsal.”

We don’t bother asking Dean what he’s going to do. It’s a given that he’ll stay with Caleb.

“I can’t go either,” I add. “I have to meet my editor from L.A.”

Dean’s head snaps up at that. “Who? Eddie?”

I nod affirmative. “He’s here for the day to go over some work stuff. We’re meeting at an Italian place a few blocks over. Ulivo, I think it’s called.”

The five of us say our good-byes, and I walk outside. I’m lucky that the snow has decided to take a break. It’s still a dusty blanket under my feet, but it’s done falling for now. I find the restaurant easily. It’s small, with a glass counter near the entryway full of pastries. An éclair has been frosted like a Christmas tree, with another one striped like a candy cane. An elaborate expresso machine sits next to the cash register.

I walk past that and into a room filled with upholstered booths and rectangular tables. Eddie is waiting for me, already seated. He doesn’t bother to get up as I approach. It’s hard to reconcile this version of him versus the man who would have jumped up when we first started dating.

“Eddie,” I greet him and slide into the seat directly across from him.

“Jenny,” he returns, raking his gaze over me in an overt way that makes me cringe. “Thanks for meeting up with me.”

Like I had any choice.

“How’d the flower shopping go?” Eddie takes a sip of coffee from the cup that sits by his elbow. “Isn’t Gwen’s mom in town now?”

“She was there.” I signal the waiter from across the room. When he looks over, I point to the coffee and then to me. I’m going to need caffeine to make it through this lunch. Talking to Eddie always makes me uneasy. He’s like a spider, waiting for a bug to fly into his sticky web. “It went fine.”

“No fighting between the two moms?” he asks, just as I predicted.

“None,” I declare as the waiter brings a steaming coffee cup, which he places in front of me. “They’re working together to make the wedding as perfect as possible.”

“What about you?” Eddie leans forward, both elbows on the table.

“What do you mean?” I ask, furrowing my brow. “I’m helping too.”

“No,” he says. “What I meant was, does it bother you? Being the bridesmaid, but never the bride? Isn’t this the third time you’ve been a bridesmaid?”

It’s the fourth time, actually, but I won’t admit that. Instead, I sputter with my jaw dropped open. I’m surprised he went there. Sure. I’ve had that thought over the past few weeks, but for Eddie to say it out loud, to blurt it out, is so insulting it’s painful.

“Maybe it’s not for you. Being the long-term girlfriend. The wife,” he continues, the bastard. It’s like he’s seen the fear in the darkest part of my soul and has decided to give it a voice. I know he’s trying to goad me. I shouldn’t let him get to me, but it’s too much. The back of my throat tightens, and my vision blurs as tears gather.

Before a single one falls, we’re interrupted.

“I was looking for you,” says a deep, familiar voice behind me. Eddie’s eyes go wide as he gazes up at the man who spoke.

I turn to glance over my shoulder. There he is, 200 pounds of pure muscle paired with a stern expression, wearing his typical navy-blue suit.

Dean.

My spirits sink further. He’s the last person I want to witness my humiliation. “What’re you doing here?” I croak, my throat raw from unshed tears.

“I wanted to see you, sweetheart,” Dean says, smiling widely in a way that shows off all his teeth. He slides into the booth next to me, bumping me aside with his hip.

Sweetheart?

My mind reels, trying to absorb what’s happening. Dean ignores my speechlessness. He leans across the table with his hand out. “You must be Eddie. Pleased to meet you. I’m Jenny’s boyfriend, Dean.”

Excuse me? What?

I gasp, my eyes flying to his.

Dean stares back calmly with an expression that reads, “trust me.”

The shock that is no doubt on my face is mirrored on Eddie’s. His mouth has dropped open in a most unattractive way. He blinks rapidly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. The two men shake, and, judging by the wince on Eddie’s face, Dean squeezes his hand hard.

“Boyfriend?” Eddie has a wrinkle between his brows as his gaze bounces from Dean to me and back again. “When did you start dating?”

“We’re not,” is what I say in my head, but my mouth says, “It’s been, uh, about, um, a while now?” I turn to Dean for help.

He smoothly interjects, “For several months. As soon as the two of you broke up, actually.”

Eddie blanches at that, his features pinched. His hand tightens on his coffee cup and a not-so-nice part of me revels in his obvious discomfort.

Dean wraps his arm around my shoulders, sending my entire body into heat stroke. He says, “The minute I heard Jenny was available, I swept in.” I look at him, searching for the lie. Surely it’s written all over his face, but no, Dean meets my gaze and stares intently. “I’d been waiting forever to ask her out. When I finally saw my opportunity, you better believe I jumped at it.” Then, to my absolute shock, he plants a kiss on the side of my head. Puts his lips to my hair with a loud smack.

“Oh…uh…I had no idea,” stutters Eddie, anger replacing his earlier disbelief. He sends me an accusatory glare from across the table. “Jenny didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Dean replies. He leans toward Eddie, his laser-sharp focus on my boss.

Eddie shrinks in his seat.

Dean continues, “Given how you’re still single, and she’s moved on. She was trying to spare you. That’s my Jenny for you. Kind to a fault.” Dean’s hand lightly rubs my shoulder, and I might pass out from the sensation. “I’m sure you wouldn’t ask about her personal life anyway, right, Eddie? Since your relationship is purely professional these days. Your Human Resources Department would find talk about romantic topics to be highly inappropriate. Isn’t that true?”

Eddie swallows so loud that I can hear it from where I sit. “Yeah—I mean—I guess. The newspaper doesn’t really encourage that.”

“Good,” says Dean with grim satisfaction. “No more discussions about Jenny’s love life. Glad that’s settled.” A long pause where the two men engage in some kind of staring contest.

Eddie breaks first, glancing away with a guilty flush. “Fine,” he mutters agreement.

Dean claps his hands together, so loudly that the people in the booths around us turn to see what the commotion is about.

“Great! Let’s eat!” he declares and waves the server over to take our order.

Dean and Eddie shake hands again on the sidewalk outside the restaurant after lunch is over. Even though they’ve mostly gotten along while we ate, Dean must squeeze Eddie’s hand hard again because Eddie rubs it with a grimace when they let go.

While they’re distracted, I pop a hard mint in my mouth and suck on it, watching as they say good-bye. Eddie moves in like he’s going to hug me, but Dean stiffens and steps in front of me. I lean around his bulky frame and give Eddie a small wave. “See you back in L.A.”

Eddie grins. The gesture sends a chill down my back. “Don’t worry, Jenny. I’ll be back to check up on you.” With a cheery salute, he starts off down the street, winding his way through the crowd as he heads toward the subway.

Dean stays close, his arm brushing mine. Once Eddie’s out of eyesight, Dean takes a large step away. I try not to take it personally, but his sudden distance stings.

I spin to confront him. “What was that?” I ask, my hands on my hips.

“What?” He blinks innocently.

The New York lunch crowd flows around us. Women in smart outfits with sensible shoes and men who wear heavy overcoats. More snow is expected later today. I motion Dean to move closer to the restaurant, so we can talk without getting jostled. He inches over until we’re pressed against the large glass window. A glance inside shows they’ve already seated new customers at the table we just left.

“Why aren’t you with Caleb?” I scan up and down the bustling street, almost expecting Caleb to be parked in his car, but he’s not here.

“He went straight home,” Dean says calmly. “I’ll catch up to him before he leaves for the theater.”

I press up onto the balls of my feet to reach eye level with Dean.

I fail. He’s too tall. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I wanted some coffee.”

“Coffee? At the same restaurant where I’m having lunch?” I ask doubtfully.

He shrugs. “You mentioned an Italian place. They always have the best cappuccinos.” He holds up the to-go coffee cup in his hand. He did, indeed, order a cappuccino.

Still, his story has more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese.

I tap my finger to my chin, regarding him. “So, you walked two blocks in the snow—”

“It wasn’t snowing—”

“Just for a caffeine fix?”

“I was tired. We all got up early—”

“And ended up in the same restaurant where I was having lunch with my boss?”

“Your ex,” he corrects me.

I tilt my head to the side. “Why’d you come over to my table then? If all you wanted was coffee?”

Dean takes a long sip of his drink, not meeting my gaze. A delaying tactic, I’m sure. Finally, he says, “I overheard what Eddie was saying to you and…”

“And?” I urge him on.

“I didn’t like it,” Dean says, a muscle ticking in his jaw. A quiet rage grows in his eyes. He looks scary. Dangerous. “Why do you put up with him? When he started up with that ‘bridesmaid, never a bride’ BS, you should have gotten up and walked away. Poured your drink over his head before you left.”

“I can’t do that!” My hand comes to my chest. Shocked, I say, “Eddie’s my boss.”

Dean takes a menacing step closer, his face reddening. “Of a department you want nothing to do with. You don’t like being an entertainment reporter.”

I bristle. “It’s better than no reporting.” I tell him the same thing I tell myself when I’m feeling disheartened about how I’ve stagnated in my career. How I’ve settled for less.

“It’s a stepping stone,” I say like a mantra. “A way to get to know the investigative team, so they’ll consider me the next time a spot opens.” I don’t mention how I interviewed for a job with them months ago, only to lose the position to a more experienced reporter from Florida. The night I found out was the one when I finally allowed Eddie to take me out to dinner.

Dean’s not buying it. He shakes his head at me with his lips curled.

His disgust ignites my fury. “Who are you to judge me, anyway?” I half-shout at him, drawing looks from strangers passing by on the sidewalk. “It’s none of your business!”

He draws in a sharp breath at that, his expression blanking. All the rage, the indignation, that was there a minute before is erased. He’s reverted to robot mode.

“You’re right.” His voice is flat. “I have no say in anything you do. I should have stayed out of it.” Like he’s some imperial prince in a grand ballroom, Dean gives me a small bow, bending at the waist and saying a formal, “My apologies.” He turns and walks away, without a single glance back.

I watch open-mouthed until he disappears, lost in a sea of strangers. My shoulders slump, and a hollow ache spreads through my chest. I replay the past two hours and see a million mistakes. Things I handled wrong with both Eddie and Dean. Things I should or shouldn’t have said. Ways I could have done better. Regret is heavy, the tightening of a noose around my neck.

When I return to my hotel, that uneasy feeling stays with me. I think of all the people I’ve failed recently—Caleb, Gwen, Dean.

Myself.

No wonder no one wants me.

In an effort to shake that thought off, I open up my laptop. It’s been a while since I did any hard-core coding, but the commands come back easily. I had an idea when I was with Dean in the flower shop earlier today. A way to track down Caleb’s stalker. I realize it’s too big a job for just me alone. Too big even for Dean. But not too big for my computer, which can work 24/7 without a break. I may be a failure in my career and love life, but I won’t fail Gwen. I’ll find the stalker and save her wedding.