Читать книгу The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers - Cynthia Thomason - Страница 11
ОглавлениеDESPITE BEING A WIDOW, Jude Foster O’Leary was content with her life most of the time and even happy on occasion. Unfortunately she’d only experienced a very short period being happily in love. And on this last Saturday of November, at her sister Alex’s wedding to the love of her life, Jude had to work at keeping a smile on her face. That was because she’d only been married to Paul O’Leary for two years before he was killed in Afghanistan, and while she was truly happy for her sister, she couldn’t help being miserable for herself.
Paul had left her with an infant son who just turned six a few weeks ago. Jude adored Wesley, even though his appearance was enough like his father’s that sometimes her eyes hurt just looking at him. And she loved the animals she cared for. She loved and respected her father, and she’d always been close to her two sisters, Alex and Carrie. But as anyone who’s ever been in love, or suffered the loss of love, can attest, all that isn’t enough.
Alex was the one in white today, while Jude and Carrie, along with Alex’s daughter, Lizzie, wore floor-length shimmering pink dresses, perfect for the other two ladies, not so much for Jude, who never chose to shimmer for any occasion. Now that the ceremony was over, the bridal party occupied a banquet-length table affording a view of the guests at Fox Creek Country Club. The Fosters had lived in Fox Creek, Ohio, for three generations, so Jude knew most everyone in attendance.
Except the tall guy in the perfectly fitted three-piece suit whose sandy blond hair was meticulously styled in an I-don’t-have-to-try-to-look-like-this way. Jude normally didn’t fixate on men, but when this guy had walked by the table earlier, Jude noticed several details, including the overhead chandeliers reflecting their twinkling lights in his polished shoes. She picked him out of the crowd again as she played with her shrimp cocktail.
“Hey, Carrie,” she said, gently jabbing her younger sister in the arm. “Who’s the slick reality show bachelor sitting at the farthest table to the left?”
Carrie adjusted the glasses that made her look like an adorable nerd. “I’ve seen him before,” she said. “Also that man next to him.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I know now. That’s Lawrence Manning. He’s a dermatologist at the hospital where Daddy works. They’ve been friends for years.”
Jude coughed. “That young guy is a friend of Daddy’s?”
“No, silly. I’m talking about the older guy. I think the younger one is his son. I remember meeting him a couple of years ago when Daddy and I were at a restaurant near the hospital. His name is Ethan or Liam, or...something old-fashioned.”
Liam Manning. The name raced to the forefront of Jude’s mind, but not in a good way. “It’s Liam,” she said. “I remember him, too. We were at a party together when we were kids, maybe ten years old. He was a horrid little monster back then.”
Carrie exaggerated fanning her face with her hand. “Well, he doesn’t look like a monster now.”
Unless monsters came with too-perfect bodies, perfect bronzed skin and aristocratic noses.
“I think you should ask him to dance, Jude,” Carrie said.
“Me? I don’t think this orchestra knows any Western line dances. And I’d only fall over my feet trying to do anything else.”
“Don’t be silly,” Carrie said. “You’re graceful on a horse, why not the dance floor?”
“Because grace isn’t a transferrable quality,” Jude answered. “I think you should ask him to dance. You’re the one with light feet.”
Carrie gave her the cute, conniving smile that Jude had admired for years. “You saw him first.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want him. I was mostly admiring his shoes. Besides, he’s probably married.”
“I don’t think so. I believe I heard Daddy say that Lawrence’s son got a divorce.”
“Oh.” Jude continued looking Liam’s way.
“Doesn’t matter, anyway. Looks like neither one of us will get the chance to dance with Mr. Charming,” Carrie said. She watched her father approach the young man. “I wonder what Daddy’s up to.”
Her father walked up to the Mannings’ table and put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. Martin leaned over, spoke to Lawrence and then into the younger man’s ear. Liam nodded, stood and followed Martin out of the room.
“Now, where could they be going?” Jude said, suddenly suspicious of her father’s motives. “What does Daddy have in common with that guy? He must be thirty years younger than Daddy.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with any of us,” Carrie said. “Are you going to eat the rest of that shrimp?”
Jude wasn’t so sure. Most of what her father did outside his office was about his family. She absently slid the shrimp bowl over to her sister. Martin Foster was a wonderful, generous, supportive father, but she’d bet her sister Alex’s shiny new diamond ring that Martin was up to something. And when Martin Foster was up to something, one of his daughters was usually the reason.
* * *
“NICE PARTY, SIR,” Liam said as he allowed himself to be led toward a quiet alcove away from the festivities. He had a pretty good idea why Martin Foster was taking him away from his table. His father had warned him that Martin wanted to talk to him today about a business matter. The whispered message in his ear confirmed that when Dr. Foster said he needed a few minutes of Liam’s time.
“Thank you, son. It’s nice to see my Alexis so happy.”
Liam sat in a comfortable wing chair and thought about the prime rib he’d signed up for. Though he wasn’t friends with any of the Foster daughters, and didn’t socialize with Dr. Martin Foster, he’d driven down from Cleveland to accompany his own father to the wedding. He figured the prime rib would be the best part of the afternoon and he didn’t want to miss it.
At first Liam didn’t know why his father had insisted he come. Dad had lots of friends among this crowd. Liam was an outsider to Dr. Foster. He recalled only one brief meeting at a restaurant with Martin’s youngest daughter, Carrie. But when his dad mentioned that Dr. Foster might need his services, he donned his best suit and showed up. Liam was good at what he did, and if Dr. Foster needed financial advice, Liam didn’t mind charging for his expertise.
Martin took a seat next to Liam. “Did you know I asked your father to bring you today?” he said.
“Yes, he told me something about your concerns when I got here today. I don’t know a lot, and frankly I was confused because I don’t know Alex, and I’m not part of the medical crowd.”
“This isn’t about Alex. Your father tells me you can do more with a dollar than most people can do with a hundred,” Martin said. “Is that so?”
Liam smiled. “I’m not a magician, sir. A dollar can only go so far today, and there’s not much any of us can do to stretch it. But I like to think I know a bit about managing money.”
“Of course you do! A person doesn’t graduate with honors from the Wharton Business School without having a great deal of economic savvy.”
So Dr. Foster knew something of Liam’s background. “Is that what this is about, Dr. Foster? Do you need some financial guidance?” Liam knew that Dr. Foster was taking care of his ailing wife. Perhaps his insurance was running out and funds had become limited. He took out his wallet and fished out a business card. “You’re welcome to call my office anytime, and we can set up a meeting.”
Martin absently took the card and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “I won’t be coming to your office, Liam. And I don’t need help with my finances per se. But someone in my family certainly does.”
“Oh?”
“Do you remember my daughter Jude?”
“No, sir, I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Well, you have, but it was twenty years ago. You don’t remember a young blonde with her hair in pigtails?”
Liam could almost picture a rangy preadolescent in braids, but he wasn’t sure.
“She doesn’t look much different today,” Martin said. “Still has the pigtails. She’s the sister in the middle up on the dais. The one who looks as though she’d like nothing better than to get that dress off and get into a pair of jeans.”
“I’ll be sure to notice her when we go back inside. Does this meeting have something to do with Jude, then?”
“It does, and I should warn you. Jude can be headstrong, stubborn. I can count the times she’s taken my advice on the fingers of one hand.”
“I don’t follow, sir. I don’t know about children, since I don’t have any.”
Martin gave a wise nod. “Count your blessings for now, son. Here’s the thing. I want you to take her in hand, Liam. She’s the CEO of a private charitable foundation, and every year the foundation’s bottom line gets worse. Jude is penny-wise and pound-foolish if you get my drift. If I let things go on as they have been for the last few years, working to keep her afloat, I might be facing bankruptcy.”
“Bankruptcy?”
“Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration.”
Liam knew Dr. Foster’s reputation. He was the best cardiologist in the Cleveland district, and patients came from the tristate area to seek his advice. Bankruptcy? Liam didn’t think so. “Foundations are supposed to exist on donations and grants. Are you telling me your personal finances are mixed up in this particular charity?”
“I funded it when Jude set it up. I gave her a considerable amount and a credit line to use while she was getting started.”
Naturally any creditors would be happy to accept Martin Foster’s IOU. “And you’re still backing Jude up when she needs it,” Liam said.
“Nothing I can’t handle yet, but you know how it is, Liam. This wedding cost a pretty penny. I have expenses because of my wife’s illness. I was hoping to retire soon, but until Jude’s project is under control, I can’t.”
“What do you think I can do, Dr. Foster?”
“Teach her how to manage money.”
He said it like he was asking Liam to teach her the multiplication tables.
“It’s not like she spends it on shoes or purses or any of the fineries other women get so excited about,” Martin said. “She barely spends a dime on herself. But she’s quick enough to spend hundreds, even thousands on other things, all the dang projects and causes she’s supporting.”
“What kind of causes?”
“It’s hard to keep up. There’s stray animals, wounded vets, physically challenged children. She’s even supporting a local radio station that she claims is vital to the rural farming community around Fox Creek. And the bills that keep all these charities running end up in Jude’s mailbox, or mine, and often require large chunks of money from my personal account to pay them. The worst is the animal upkeep. I’ve paid for more hay, animal feed and vet services than I care to think about.”
Liam knew the answer to his next question before he even asked it. “Why doesn’t she pay the bills out of the foundation’s funds? Doesn’t she get donations?”
“Oh, she does. Some. But that’s where you come in, Liam. I don’t know the true answer except to say when bills come due, there is often no money.” Martin shook his head. “She’s a wonderful girl, don’t get me wrong, but she doesn’t have a head for numbers and accounting.”
And Liam had no desire to get himself in the middle of what was obviously a Foster problem. “Excuse me for saying so, Dr. Foster, but this seems like a family matter to me. Have you tried talking to your daughter?”
Martin sighed. “You don’t know how difficult that is for me. You see, Jude lost her husband over five years ago. He was killed in the Middle East fighting for his country. Since then, she’s been kind of like a lost soul, always running from one needy cause to another. Besides her son—and she’s a good mother—all those good works have become her life. It’s not easy for me to get in the middle of all that suffering and try to change things.”
“That’s tough, I’ll agree,” Liam said. “But I still don’t see what I can do. What makes you think she’ll listen to my financial advice if she doesn’t listen to yours?”
“I’m trying to tell you...I haven’t given her any!”
“Maybe if you sat her down...”
“I don’t have the heart, Liam. She’s my baby. I love her. Oh, I’ve made a few suggestions, tried to guide her, but things don’t seem to improve, and I don’t want to drive a wedge between Jude and me. That wouldn’t help either one of us. I believe there’s a lot of hurt inside her, and I’m her father, the one who’s supposed to help her, encourage her.”
“With due respect, sir, I’m not sure I can help her. I don’t even know your daughter.”
“That’s true right now, but I’m hoping you’ll introduce yourself into her life and you, as an outside party, can show her how to manage her money better, or at least cut back on the spending. After all, son, you’re the expert, and even Jude can’t argue with an expert.”
“Well...”
Not letting Liam finish, Martin said, “Your father can’t brag enough about you. You can be a voice of reason for Jude. You don’t have the problem of emotion to deal with. Once you’ve gained Jude’s trust, I believe she’d listen to you.”
“I don’t know how true that is, Dr. Foster. My clients come to me willingly. I don’t seek them out to try and get them to listen to reason as you’re suggesting. And anyway, I have a full-time job with a financial planning firm in Cleveland. I can’t take time away from my regular clients to counsel your daughter, especially when you’ve hinted that she’s not the type to be counseled.”
“You don’t have to give up your clients, Liam. Just come out here on weekends and maybe once or twice during the week. Show an interest in what she’s doing, get her to trust you and—”
“While I secretly examine her books?” Liam said. “That’s dishonest, Dr. Foster. If not downright impossible.”
“Not if you show interest in what she’s doing. Don’t you first try to gain the trust of anyone you educate about money? Isn’t that the first step?”
“Well, yes...”
“Then this is no different. Besides, once you two meet, once the groundwork is set, I intend to tell her why I’ve brought you in. But it wouldn’t do for me to divulge that until she trusts you. Jude is a trusting girl. She just doesn’t like to be pushed around. I think she’ll like you right off.”
Liam didn’t have any reason to believe that.
“Think of me as another client, Liam,” Martin said. “I’ll pay you whatever your hourly rate is.” Dr. Foster held up his index finger. “Just don’t bully her, son. She may be trusting, but once her mind is stuck on something, she won’t let anyone tell her what to do.”
Slightly offended, Liam said, “I don’t think I bully anyone.”
“No, I’m sure you don’t. You seem like a nice young fellow. Now, just go on out there and have your dinner and then ask Jude to dance. She’s a pretty girl, and aside from scoot-booting around a Western bar once in a while, I don’t think she’s danced with anyone since Paul left for the service.” Dr Foster chuckled. “You may decide this is the most pleasant job you’ve ever had.”
Even though Liam believed Dr. Foster truly loved his daughter but just felt inadequate to help her, he doubted that this assignment would be easy. During this conversation Liam had conjured up one very clear image of an afternoon twenty years ago at a doctors’ picnic. He remembered a curly-haired pigtailed girl shoving him onto the ground when he was poking a snake with a stick. He hadn’t been hurting the snake, and besides, it was a snake... But the pigtailed girl obviously decided the snake needed a champion.
That was the only contact Liam had ever had with Jude Foster, Jude Something-Else now, and he’d ended up covered in mud, and hating girls for the next six months.
“Now, go on before your dinner gets cold,” Dr. Foster said. “It cost me twenty-four ninety-five a plate, and for that price, you should eat it while it’s hot. And remember my involvement with you is a private matter between you and me, for now. Jude doesn’t need to know yet.”
Uncertain about this plan, Liam returned to his table, sat next to his father and ate his tepid prime rib.
“So you talked with Martin?” Dr. Manning asked.
“He wants to hire me for a short while,” Liam said. “But I guess you already know that.”
“I hope you agreed,” Dr. Manning said. “There’s not a better man than Martin Foster, but he’s a pushover when it comes to his daughters. And Jude, the middle one, is tougher to handle than the other two. According to Martin, if left alone, without some solid, timely advice, she’ll run that foundation of hers into the ground and Martin along with it.”
“But I don’t feel right about this whole thing. Dr. Foster wants me to keep our relationship a secret until I’ve gotten closer to Jude, until she trusts me.”
“Sounds to me like a good way to approach this,” Lawrence said. “Why alienate the girl right at the start?”
Liam frowned. “What do you know about her?”
His father smiled in a guarded way that made Liam uncomfortable. “Martin doesn’t criticize his daughters for the most part, but I know he’s not used to opening up to Jude. That’s where you come in. And since Martin is likely to pay you well for this assignment, I wouldn’t want to prejudice you with idle gossip about the girl.”
“So without telling me some of that gossip you’ve heard, you’re warning me that if I work with Jude, I might be better off to use a whip and a chair rather than a mechanical pencil and spreadsheet.”
“You should talk to her tonight, see what you think for yourself. Women have always liked you, son. You’re clean, cultured, honorable...”
“Staid? Boring?” An image of his ex-wife came to mind, and he realized she might add other adjectives that could describe an Eagle Scout.
“No! I didn’t mean that at all. Could be Jude will take to you like a mama bear to honey.”
The analogy was not a comfortable one. Didn’t bears eat honey? And besides, Lawrence’s facial expression suggested that he truly might have no faith in his son being able to get along with Jude.
“You’d be doing this as a personal favor to me, Liam,” his father said. “Martin and I go all the way back to medical school. I don’t suppose I have a better friend than he is, and he needs help with this situation. It’s gotten out of control.”
“I guess I believe that,” Liam said.
“Besides, you want to go to that economic conference in Stockholm this spring, don’t you?” Lawrence added. “If you straighten Jude out, Martin will be so grateful, you’ll be able to afford a first-class plane ticket.”
Dr. Manning patted his son’s back. “At the end of the night, if you want them, I’ll give you my impressions about Jude. There probably are a few things you should know. Combined with what you learn yourself, you can decide what you want to do. But if it makes any difference, I’m counting on you, son. Friendships mean a lot to me.”
Nothing like putting on the pressure, Liam thought. He owed his father for sticking by him during his divorce. Lawrence had called his son every day to ask how he was, and Liam didn’t know how he would have gotten through those difficult days without his dad’s concern. And Liam figured he could straighten out this foundation in a matter of a few visits. He was that good. Besides all that, Dr. Foster had promised he’d tell his daughter about their alliance soon.
The wedding cake had barely been cut when Liam stood in line to get his piece. He chose a small slice and turned to go back to his table. And ran into Jude.
No time like the present to get to know Martin’s middle daughter.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping out of his way.
Liam stopped her by placing his hand on her elbow. She turned toward him and he stared into the softest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. She didn’t look like an obstinate, my-way-or-the-highway girl. “My fault,” he said, giving her his brightest smile. “My name is Liam Manning. I don’t really know many people here. Would you like to share our cake together?”
“I really can’t,” she said. “I have to give a toast soon.”
He tried again. “We’re actually not strangers. We met at a picnic years ago.”
“I remember. You were tormenting a defenseless snake.”
Was she kidding? “Tormenting?” he said. “I was doing no such thing. Besides, it was just a snake.”
“Yeah, and if a snake bit you, one of his buddies would say, ‘Don’t worry about it, pal. It was just a human.’”
Oh yeah, she wasn’t kidding.
“Anyway, snake torture is enough to make me wonder about you now. Like for instance, what did you and my father talk about in the hallway?”
So she’d seen them leave the party. He tried to speak, to come up with a convincing stall, but his jaw seemed to tighten up. He put down the dainty china plate that held his cake and reached for Jude’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
