Читать книгу The Ex Factor - Nancy Warren - Страница 11

“WE CAN’T FIND the best man,” Mr. Stanhope hissed into Karen’s ear.

So far, everything for the Stanhope wedding had been going smoother than a chocolate milkshake. This was her first lump. “Has he answered his cell phone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll get right on it. In the meantime, Mr. Stanhope, remember, you hired me to take care of problems. I’ll stall the bridal party.” Her calm manner and soothing smile had their desired effect. The father of the bride’s high color receded and he nodded, standing straighter in his tux.

“Glad to have you onboard.”

“We may need to call in a stand-in, but I promise, you’ll have a best man for your daughter’s wedding.

“Keep an eye on things out front,” she whispered to Dee, then, without any visible haste, she walked from the front of the church and out into the parking lot. Guests were still arriving but the bridal party was scheduled to pull up in fifteen minutes.

She slipped into her car and reached for the Stanhope wedding binder. In it was all the information she could possibly need, including home and cell numbers for the missing man.

She called both and was invited twice to leave a message. Which she did. Not good.

She then called the driver of the limousine bringing the bridal party to the church and asked him to take a detour. “I need five extra minutes.”

“No problem.”

Having stalled the bride, she left her car and slipped into the church through a side entrance. She knew her way around most of the churches and synagogues of the city. She made her way to the anteroom where the groom and his party would be waiting.

The groom looked a little pale, but steady. He glanced up when she entered. “I’m going to kill Brian. He promised he’d be here.”

“Does he have issues with punctuality?”

“Not usually.”

Her cell phone rang. “Ah.” Sure enough, it was the best man. “Flat tire,” he panted. “I went to change it, but that is my spare.”

“Where are you?”

He named a location that was a good five minutes away. “Are you dressed to go?”

“Yep.”

“All right. I’ll come and get you.”

She turned to the groom. “Appoint a stand-in just in case.”

“But the ring?”

She slipped a plain gold band from her right hand. “I always carry a spare.” Then she smiled at him. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She sprinted to her car and made her way out of the parking lot, now quieting as most of the guests had arrived. She was in time to see Sophie Vanderhooven step out of a Lincoln, Dexter behind her. She supposed she should have known Sophie would bring a stand-in for her fiancé who was still working in Italy.

Since she felt it would be rude to drive by a paying client, she drew to a stop and rolled down her window. The autumn day was crisp and cold and tonight the temperature was forecast to dip.

“You look lovely, Sophie,” she said. The blue woolen suit was both stylish and classic, rather like Sophie herself.

“Thanks. I can’t wait to see Melissa get married.”

“Do you drive away before all the ceremonies?” Dex asked her.

Now that he’d addressed her directly, she had to look at him and nothing in the world could stop the warm blush that heated her cheeks as their little tussle in her office roared back to her.

She forced a smile, though no one could have called it cool. “Of course not. Just a little wedding business to take care of. I’ll see you later.” And with a wave of her hand she drove past.

DEX SQUINTED as he turned to watch Karen drive away. He’d made her blush. Good. It was a start.

“What’s going on, Dex?”

He turned back to his date. “What do you mean?”

Sophie scanned his face. “I’m not sure, but you were looking at Karen the way—well, the way Andrew looks at me. I guess that’s why I recognized the expression.”

“She’s a very attractive woman.”

“And she was blushing.” She grabbed his hand and began walking toward the church. “And there’s this sort of energy field when you two are together. I noticed it when we first met her. I wasn’t born yesterday, Dex. Something’s up with you two. What is it?”

The slim hand in his was friendly, but firm. He suspected he wouldn’t get away with anything but the truth. “You’re pretty smart for a socialite.”

“I know. And I smell a delicious secret. Come on, spill. I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’ve never yet met a woman who didn’t break that promise.”

The patrician nose wrinkled. “Can I tell Andrew if it’s good?”

Andrew was the son of a famous wine-making family in Italy. He’d hired Dexter’s firm to renovate the family’s Park Avenue town house and during the project, the two had become friends. They played squash, moved in similar social circles and, instead of dropping him when Andrew and Sophie got engaged, the couple had tried setting him up with a series of single women.

They knew he’d been married before, but he’d never offered them much in the way of details. Hadn’t thought it would matter. Now, he knew that his past did matter.

The past had just caught up with him.

“The truth is that Karen and I used to be married.”

If he was into shocking people he’d have been gratified by the way Sophie’s mouth fell open so far he could see all her expensive dental work. He’d never seen a mouth with such perfectly straight molars.

When she’d recovered enough to close her mouth, she said, “But I don’t get it. Why? What?” She heaved a sigh. “What’s your plan?”

The pavement seemed to tick under Sophie’s heels, sounding like a clock counting seconds. “I don’t know. Honestly, I didn’t have a plan. Don’t have one. I thought it would be cool to surprise Karen, but—”

“The force field got to you.” She shook her head. “That is some powerful chemistry between you two.”

She was right. The moment Karen had stepped out of her office and he’d seen her again, he’d known that what they’d had wasn’t over. Not for him. “Yeah.”

“So, what happened between you two?”

“We should go in.”

“That’s Melissa’s dad over there looking all stressed. Means the bridal party isn’t here yet. We’ve got some time.” She hauled him around the side of the church. “Spill.”

The story was so stupid he felt foolish even repeating it. “This drunk woman came onto me at a party and Karen flipped out. She got it in her head that I was cheating on her.”

Cool blue eyes stared into his. “Were you?”

“No. I never would have done anything like that to Karen. I loved my wife.”

“Then why would she think it?”

He leaned his back against the brick wall. It seemed sturdy, solid, the way a good marriage should be. “I’ve spent a lot of time asking myself the same question.”

“How badly was the drunk woman coming onto you?”

“Oh, it was bad. She was undressing herself, trying to undress me. When Karen walked in on us she was plastered to me, and I was trying to stop her unzipping me. Must have looked to Karen like we were in a big hurry, both trying to get me unzipped.” He’d never really looked at it from her point of view before. He’d been too busy being pissed that she didn’t believe him.

“Wow. That sucks.”

“I know.”

“Did you go for counseling?”

“The only counselor she wanted was the kind in a lawyer’s office. She started divorce proceedings right after she threw me out of the house.”

“Why would she end a marriage without even fighting for it?”

Leaning against the brick of that old church he felt like a little of the wisdom of the aged building was seeping into him. “Her dad really ran around on her mom. For years, with a lot of different women, until her mom finally divorced the jerk. Maybe, on some level, Karen expects a husband to be unfaithful.”

“Then you’re going to have to figure out how to convince her that some husbands can love a woman faithfully. And that you are one of them.”

“We’re already divorced. Why would I do that?”

When she shook her head at him, the sun struck her pale blond hair, giving him the impression of a halo. “No wonder you never looked twice at any of those women I introduced you to.” She patted his shoulder. “You, my friend, are still in love with your wife.”

KAREN FOUND the best man without trouble. He was the only guy in a tux standing on the freeway looking miserable.

She pulled over. “Hop in,” she said. Then, before pulling back into traffic, she made contact with her limo driver. “Where are you?”

“Five minutes away.”

“Make it ten.”

“You got it.”

She delivered a very grateful best man to an equally grateful groom and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she dashed to the front of the church to welcome the bridal party. As she’d suspected, they had no idea they’d been stalled.

The bride was as radiant as could be hoped, and after escorting her and the bridesmaids to where her father waited, adjusting her veil and reminding everyone to take a deep breath and smile, to remember to savor the walk down the aisle, she slipped inside to give the organist the heads up.

As the strains of “Here Comes the Bride” boomed through the church, everyone rose. In her head she heard her own personal musical mash-up, the wedding march overlaid with her own version of “Another One Bites the Dust.”

Once the wedding was underway, she eased back out of the church and called Chelsea who was already preparing food for the reception. “Heads up. We’re running behind about fifteen minutes.”

“’Kay, thanks.” And the woman was gone.

She then drove to the mansion where the reception was being held. The kitchen was a hive of organized chaos. Chelsea overseeing the sit-down dinner for one hundred and fifty that would take place as soon as the guests arrived.

She walked into the huge ballroom-turned-dining room and was filled with pleasure. It looked beautiful. They’d gone with autumnal colors and the burgundies and golds and greens looked lovely against the rich mahogany wainscoting in the room. Real fires already burned in the two fireplaces and bouquets of autumn leaves, artfully arranged to look casual and natural adorned the space. Fat candles waited to be lit, the crystal shone, the cutlery glittered, and Cinderella’s confectionary coach lent a whimsical touch.

Dee called her when the bride and groom were on their way, so she was at the front door to greet them.

“We did it,” Melissa cried, holding up her left hand where a brand-new band glittered.

“Congratulations,” she said, hugging the happy young woman. “I’ve got rooms upstairs for both of you so you can freshen up. Once all the guests have arrived, we’ll announce you and the reception can begin.”

She took the extra ring that the groom pressed secretively into her palm, slipping it onto her right hand once more for safekeeping.

As with most weddings, the guests enjoying the perfect event could have no idea of the infinite number of details handled and the disasters averted that went on behind the scenes. And that was exactly how Karen liked it.

So she was less than pleased when Dexter surprised her at the end of the evening when most of the guests had departed.

“You do good work,” he said. “I’m truly impressed.”

“I thought you’d gone,” she snapped, then could have cursed her tongue for betraying that she’d noticed when Sophie left and assumed Dex was with her.

“I told Sophie I had a ride.” He shrugged, looking impossibly gorgeous in a well-cut suit in shale gray. “Do you?”

“I do if you give me a lift, otherwise I guess I’ll call a cab.”

“Why didn’t you go home with your date?”

“Because she’s not a date. She’s the fiancée of a good friend. I didn’t want anybody thinking there was something going on between me and Sophie when there isn’t.” He held her gaze. “You know how suspicious people can be.”

Refusing to rise to such obvious bait she said, “Well, I guess I can give you a lift but you’ll have to wait until I’m finished here.”

“No problem. Can I make myself useful?”

“You can help load the supplies into the van.” In fact, she hired a company to take care of the cleanup, but she was annoyed with Dexter and half hoped he got something nasty on his pretty suit.

As though he’d read her mind, he slipped off his jacket, and, to her surprise, slipped it over her shoulders. “Take care of that for me.” Then he rolled up his sleeves and headed toward the cleanup crew, turning quickly from wedding guest to menial laborer.

The jacket was warm from his body and, weak woman that she was, she slipped her arms into the sleeves and enjoyed the sensation of wearing something of his. She caught an elusive scent of him, something hot and spicy and forbidden.

Then she went into the kitchen to check in with Chelsea. Her caterer was pretty much ready to go, the kitchen cleaner than when she’d arrived and all her food and supplies loaded into her van.

“How you doing?”

“My feet hurt.” She grinned. “But we pulled off another miracle.”

“I thought the Cinderella coach cake was a bit much, but everyone seemed to like it.”

“Seems we’re never too old for fairy tales.”

“Speaking of fairy tales, who’s the Prince Charming out there hauling tables and why are you wearing his jacket?”

“That’s no prince, that’s my ex-husband.” She didn’t bother to explain the other part.

“Wow.” Chelsea did a double take, and she followed her friend’s gaze to the sight of her ex’s delectable backside as he bent over, helping lift a heavy table. “That’s the scumbag? Too bad he’s a wretched human being. He sure looks good.”

“Yeah.”

They both watched out the window for a few more moments. “He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, I’ll give him that.”

“No.” She’d always loved that about him, the architect who was only too happy to get down and dirty with the construction aspects of his projects. She was never sure whether he appealed to her more when he was designing and envisioning a finished project, or when he was covered in sweat and sawdust, muscles bulging.

Chelsea pulled herself away from the window first. “Okay, I’ve got my own eye candy at home. I’d better get back, David’s waiting for me.”

“Sure. Have a great Sunday.” They hugged quickly.

She was, as usual, the last one to leave. Only this time, she wasn’t alone. Dexter followed her to her car. The temperature had dropped suddenly and there was a sharp chill in the air.

Once they were settled into her car, the heater humming, she turned to him and said, “So, where can I drop you?”

He gazed at her mouth. “I was hoping we could pick up where we left off the other night.”