Читать книгу A Convenient Texas Wedding - Sheri WhiteFeather, Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 10

Three

Allison ate more than her fair share of the pizza. She drank the soda Rand had ordered, too. But in the center of her bride-to-be mind, her thoughts were racing.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the boudoir Rand had built for his lovers—the sexy, dreamy, lavish suite where she would be staying. How she was going to survive sleeping there, she didn’t know. Her crush on Rand was elevating to dangerous levels. Ever since she’d met him at The Bellamy, since he’d proposed this arrangement, since he’d kissed her with that scrumptious mouth of his, her pulse hadn’t quit pounding. And now she was going to have to contend with his bedroom being intimately connected to hers, with two big, easy-to-open, elaborately carved doors between them.

“When are you going to call your parents?” he asked.

She glanced up from her plate, her arteries still thumping. “First thing tomorrow.” She certainly couldn’t call them today. It was later in Ireland than in Texas.

“I’ll get your ring tomorrow, too. Maybe one of those sets where the engagement ring and the wedding band are designed to go together. I know someone who deals in antique jewelry, if older pieces are okay with you.”

“Yes, of course.” She wasn’t going to interfere with his choices. “You can get whatever you think is best.”

“The dealer works exclusively with a private clientele. She’s a longtime friend of my grandmother’s. I’ll be inviting Grandma Lottie to the wedding, so you’ll get to meet her. She’s ninety years old and has a condo in a senior community here in Royal. It’s a great place, as luxurious as it gets.” He hesitated, reached for his soda, took a swig. A second later, he said, “But just so you know, her short-term memory is failing her. She has what’s called mild cognitive impairment or MCI. Sometimes she forgets portions of conversations or repeats things we already talked about. I’ve gotten used to it now, but it was strange at first, trying to get a handle on it.”

Allison couldn’t imagine her granny going through something like that. Both of her grandparents were fit as fiddles. “Does MCI lead to Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia?”

“In some cases, it does. But her doctor doesn’t think that will happen to her. She has a caregiver who lives with her, so it helps to know she has someone with her all the time. Grandma Lottie was my rock when I was growing up. She stepped in when our mother got sick and raised us kids after Mom passed. I was ten at the time, and Trey was only four. He barely even remembers our mom.”

“How sad for him. How sad for both of you.” She didn’t know what to say, except to express the grief she knew he was feeling. “But I’m glad your grandmother was there for you.”

“Me, too. Without her, I don’t know what we would have done. Our parents weren’t even together when Mom died. They were already divorced. So by then, our father was used to being a weekend dad, to seeing us when it was convenient for him.” Rand shook his head in obvious displeasure. “He never tried to take us away from Grandma Lottie, but he butted heads with her about what he called the ‘indulgent’ way she was rearing us. He didn’t think she disciplined us enough.”

“My parents coddled me. But maybe if I hadn’t been so sheltered, I would have been more streetwise when it came to someone like Rich.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been wondering about your relationship with him and how it unfolded.”

“It’s foolish, the way I let it happen.” She picked at a piece of crust leftover on her plate, even if she’d been taught not to play with her food.

“Will you tell me about it?”

She winced. “Right now?”

He nodded. “Sorry, yes. But I’d really like to know.”

She expelled an uneasy breath, preparing for the shameful truth. She’d already discussed this with the authorities and answered all of their probing questions, but repeating it to Rand seemed different somehow. “I met him at a restaurant where I was waitressing. I’d been working there for years, in addition to my freelance writing, so I could save extra money. Kenmare is a tourist destination, and we have lots of pubs and eateries.” She picked at the crust again, tearing it into little pieces. “He said that he was on a much-needed holiday in Ireland, taking a break from his busy life. He explained that he was the CEO of an oil and energy company and how demanding his job was. He mentioned his family’s cattle ranch, too, and his devotion to it. He was certainly my idea of a handsome Texan.” She remembered how easily they’d talked and how forthcoming he seemed. “I thought he was as charming and interesting as a fellow could be. He took an immediate fancy to me, too. Or so I thought. But now I realize that he just saw me as an easy mark.”

“Did you know he was married?”

“Yes. But he told me that he and Megan were getting divorced. That she’d met someone else and was in a secret relationship with that person. He also said that Megan was an emotionally fragile woman. According to him, she wasn’t ready to talk to family and friends about the divorce or tell them that she was seeing someone else. She needed more time to get a handle on her new relationship.”

“So Rich and Megan were keeping everything hush-hush? Gee, how convenient for him.”

Her shame went bone-deep. Her foolishness. Her naïveté. “I shouldn’t have fallen for a story like that. But he seemed so kind and sensitive, and I believed that he had Megan’s best interest at heart. I didn’t have a clue how often he’d been cheating on her or what a lovely and centered person she actually is.” She released a sigh. “Of everyone I’ve met in Royal so far, she’s been the most gracious to me. I feel so badly for her, marrying a man who wasn’t even who he claimed to be.”

After a long and silent pause, Rand asked, “When did your affair with him start?”

“Our romance budded right away, while he was still in Ireland. But I didn’t tell my family about him. I knew they wouldn’t approve of me seeing a married man, even if he was in the process of a divorce.” She shook her head. “Or supposedly getting divorced or whatever.” She continued her wretched story. “After he went home, we emailed and texted. He said that when I was ready to come to the States, he would help me get a visa.”

“So you took him up on his offer?”

She nodded. “But he also said that he would try to help me get a green card, too, so I could move here for real.”

“And make all of your Texas dreams come true?” He squinted at her. “Did he offer to marry you?”

“No.” So far, Rand was the only man who’d ever proposed to her. “But his ‘supposed’ divorce from Megan wasn’t finalized, so that wasn’t an option. Besides, our relationship was still really new. We wouldn’t have been talking marriage, anyway.”

“Then how was he going to help you get a green card?”

“He said that he knew some government officials who could probably make it happen.” She paused, thinking back on what a tall tale it was. “It’s strange because you’re the one who actually knows someone who works for Immigration.”

“Yeah, but my friend isn’t going to just magically get you a green card. It doesn’t work that way.” Rand watched her with a curious expression. “How long were you together with him in Texas?”

“Overall? Before the plane crash? It was three months.” Ninety days in Dallas, she thought, of being duped. “After what he did to me, after being conned by him, it makes me want my green card even more. I don’t want him to be the cause of me losing my dream of living in the States.”

He continued to watch her. Or scrutinize her. Or whatever he was doing. She glanced away, needing a reprieve.

He asked, “Did Rich know you had a savings account? Did you share that information with him?”

She returned her gaze to his. “Yes, I told him. But it never occurred to me that he was going to swindle me out of it. As far as I knew, he was a wealthy man.” After a chop of silence, she added, “When I first got to Dallas, I rented the apartment I have now, and he would stay with me when he was in town. He took me out from time to time, but he never introduced me to any of his friends or family. He said that he couldn’t, not while he and Megan were still keeping a lid on their divorce. I didn’t know anyone in Texas besides him, so there was no one for him to meet, either.”

“Sounds like your life with him was isolated.”

“It was. But at the time, I didn’t mind.” She winced, hating the stomach-clenching ache that repeating this story gave her. “It seemed romantic, just the two of us. But then he started to seem troubled. Only he refused to tell me what was wrong. He kept saying that he didn’t want to burden me with it. It was obviously part of his ploy, pretending to protect me from his problems. But finally, he told me that he was under financial duress. That his personal accounts had been frozen because of something Megan had done, and he wasn’t able to make withdrawals or use his credit cards. He also said that he couldn’t withdraw money from his business accounts, either, because he didn’t want to involve his family, and they were tied to those accounts. He was trying to solve it without them knowing what was going on.”

Rand shook his head. “It sounds like he had it all worked out, blaming his wife while trying to get money from his girlfriend.”

“I loaned him little bits at a time, until the amounts started getting bigger and bigger. But even so, he never gave me cause to think that he couldn’t be trusted. He promised that he would pay me back, and I believed him. The last time I saw him, he said that he was getting close to sorting it out and should have access to his accounts again.” She took a long sip of soda to quench her suddenly dry throat, then went on. “Shortly after that, I received a letter from an attorney saying that he was dead, and I was named as one of the heirs to his estate.”

When she hesitated, Rand motioned for her to continue. She took one more sip of her drink before she said, “I was devastated by his loss. Then later, of course, things took a different turn. I discovered that he wasn’t even Will Sanders. I also learned that four other women had received the same letter, also making them heirs to an estate that didn’t even belong to him. It made me feel as if he’d stolen from me twice, first by taking my money. Then by making me part of an inheritance I wasn’t able to claim.”

Rand nodded, a bit too solemnly. “Did you ever tell your family about him? Do they know he’s the reason you had to borrow money from them?”

“I told them a condensed version of the truth. I admitted that I came to America to be with a man and that he’d taken advantage of me and hurt some other women, too. I couldn’t reveal the entire story since we’re not allowed to discuss the case with anyone who isn’t involved in it, but they’re still concerned about my emotional well-being. They could tell how badly this affected me.”

“And now you’re going to tell them that I helped you through it and you fell in love with me.”

“Yes.” She would be deceiving them about what should be the most important events of her life. Falling in love. Finding her true soul mate. Accepting his marriage proposal.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, much too softly.

Was he comforting her for the lie she was going to tell her family? Or was he consoling her for Rich’s treachery?

Whatever he was doing, it made her feel warm and protected. When she was a girl, eating Ma’s bread-and-butter pudding used to make her feel the same way. Sometimes she used to sit by the fireplace on cold nights and devour the entire pan.

“Do you have a preference for the type of engagement ring I get?” he asked. “The cut of the diamond? Or the kind of setting?”

She cleared her mind. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling warm and protected by Rand. She hadn’t even decided how trustworthy he was. “I thought you were going to get an antique one?”

“I am, but this will be the first time I’ll be buying jewelry for someone other than my grandmother. And I want to do it right.”

“I’m sure you’ll do splendidly with whatever you choose. But I’ll be returning it to you after the marriage ends, so you should get something that has a good resell value so you can get your investment back.”

He frowned. “I don’t want it back. It’s going to be your ring. I’m buying it for you.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t be proper for me to keep it.”

“Then you should be the one to sell it and recoup what you lost.”

“That isn’t necessary,” she insisted. “Besides, I already told you earlier that I don’t want to be beholden to you.”

“Come on, Allison. You should at least get a diamond out of this deal.”

She wasn’t comfortable getting anything out of it except her green card. “Maybe we should discuss this another time. I don’t want to argue on our very first day.”

“All right, we’ll figure it out later.” He paused before he asked, “Do you know your ring size?”

She shook her head. She’d never worn a ring before, on any of her fingers. She didn’t own much in the way of jewelry, aside from the costume stuff that she kept in a small wooden box, all tangled up together.

He said, “There must be a way to measure it. I’ll look it up online.” He checked his phone. “Oh, here we go. There’s a paper method that should work. I’ll print this and we can try it.” He got up from his seat. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

While he was gone, she stayed at the dining table, reminding herself to breathe. Within no time, she would be Rand’s wife. She would be sleeping upstairs in that scandalous boudoir, with her hot-as-sin husband on the other side.

He returned with the paper chart and a pair of scissors, striding back into the room and catching her eye.

As he stood next to her chair and cut out the ring sizer, she asked, “When are you going to announce our engagement?”

“You mean publicly? I’d rather wait to make a splash until after we’re married. We’ve got too much to do, trying to plan the ceremony this quickly. If we get bombarded with media attention beforehand, we’ll never get everything done.”

As he took hold of her left hand to size her finger, his touch sent an electric current through her. She nearly jolted from the feeling. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re a six.” He set the chart aside. “I’m going to have to wear a ring, too. I need to look as husbandly as I can, to flash my status as much as possible. But I’ll find myself a plain gold band. Not an antique. Just something simple and modern.”

“Yes, plain bands seem to be what most men prefer.” Or so she assumed. “Would you mind if I took an Uber back to Dallas tonight, instead of you taking me?” She needed some time alone, to sit quietly in her apartment and try to quell her anxiety. “But you can come over tomorrow, if you want.”

“That’s fine. I can stop by after I get your ring. We should probably go to the county clerk’s office tomorrow, too, to apply for our marriage license. You’ll need to have your birth certificate and passport handy for that.”

“I will.” She thought about his social media followers. “I hope your hordes of female admirers don’t hate me for taking you off the market.”

“There isn’t a person in their right mind who could hate you, Allison. You’re just too damn sweet.” When she bit down on her bottom lip, he stared at her. She stared back at him, until he said, “Now give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine so we can program our numbers into them.”

Once that was done, she arranged for her car.

He waited outside with her, with the sun getting lower in the sky. He didn’t kiss her goodbye; he didn’t put his wickedly delicious mouth against hers. They didn’t hug, either. They didn’t do anything that rang of affection.

Then, right before she left, he reached out and smoothed a strand of her hair away from her face with the merest skim of his fingers. A barely there touch that gave her that warm, snug, bread-and-butter pudding feeling again.

Even long after she got home.

* * *

The following day Allison bustled around her apartment, sweeping the floors, vacuuming the area rug beneath the coffee table and fluffing the decorative pillows on the sofa. True to his word, Rand was on his way over to give her the engagement ring he’d purchased and then take her to the county clerk’s office with him.

After she finished tidying up, she smoothed her simple cotton dress and combed her hair, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked as ordinary as she always did, except maybe a tad more flushed.

About ten minutes later the doorbell rang. She answered the summons and greeted Rand. He was as dapper as ever, dressed in casual clothes, his broad-shouldered body filling up the tiny space on her stoop.

She invited him inside, and he glanced around and said, “This is a cute place, a nice little studio.”

“Thank you.” She’d tried to make it seem more like a one-bedroom by dividing the sleeping area from the living area, but she wasn’t able to block her bed completely. A portion of it was still visible, on the other side of a bookcase.

Thankfully, he didn’t mention it. But why would he say something about her bed?

“It’s bright and sunny,” he said.

Allison nodded. Was he getting the small talk over with before he presented her with the ring? “I like bright spaces.” But so did he, she realized. He had lots of windows in his house. Most of her light was coming from a sliding glass door that led to her patio.

He asked, “Are you keeping this apartment for after the divorce or are you planning on getting a different one?”