by Karen Booth
“Let just say that things have gotten a lot better since you’ve been here. And not just because you cook for me and make coffee in the morning.” She smoothed back his hair. “And it’s not because you’ve done so many things for me around the house or you’ve listened to my problems or worries. It’s because you’ve never once judged me. Not even for a minute.”
“When you’ve felt the weight of others’ judgment, it’s hard to want to inflict it on anyone else. Especially someone you care about.”
She gazed into his eyes, taking note of the warmth that radiated from the center of her chest. Her heart was putting itself back together, piece by piece, simply because this amazing man had walked into her life at the most inopportune of times. She was falling. She knew it. But she had to be careful. Because she wasn’t sure Andrew would ever allow himself to be happy. And that meant she wasn’t sure that Andrew would ever stay.
“Will you make me a promise?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“You’re already staying for Tara and Grant’s wedding. Promise me you’ll stay through Christmas.”
“Is that what you want?”
She didn’t want to think about the alternative. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Eleven
Andrew heard Grant’s voice plain as day over Miranda’s speakerphone. “Can you and Andrew come early today? We have something we need to tell you both.”
Miranda cast a curious look at Andrew. They were both still getting dressed for the wedding. And they were already expected to arrive an hour before the rest of the guests. “Is everything okay?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. Everything’s fine. But I owe Andrew and you an apology. If you come early, we can set it all straight.”
“Okay. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Miranda ended the call. “What do you think that’s all about?”
“I have no idea, but the thought of an apology sounds pretty good.” It sounded better than good, and at least made Andrew slightly more optimistic about attending this wedding. He’d been dreading Grant and Tara’s big day. Not because of his date. Going with Miranda was the only reason to put on a tux. But he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of facing another virtual firing squad in the form of the bride and groom. It was one thing to be chastised at the Thanksgiving table, and quite another to be given the evil eye over wedding cake and champagne.
“Ready?” he asked Miranda after he’d worked his way into his shoes. “I’m going to save my jacket for after we get there. I don’t want it to wrinkle.”
Miranda emerged from the closet in her bridesmaid dress, a strapless burgundy gown that nearly made his jaw drop to the floor. “Do I look like a beach ball?”
He went to her, wishing they didn’t have to rush out the door. He caressed her silky shoulders. You look like everything I ever wanted. “No. You don’t. You look absolutely gorgeous and full of life.”
“Is that code for beach ball? Because I have to stand next to Astrid, who pretty much has a perfect body and will be wearing the exact same dress. This doesn’t bode well for my self-confidence.”
“Don’t compare yourself to Astrid. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She bunched up her lips and narrowed her gaze. “That’s not true.”
“But it is. Part of that is knowing what’s in here.” He tapped a finger on her forehead. “And here.” He pressed his hand where her heart was, watching as that skeptical look on her face morphed into a smile.
“That’s sweet. I don’t entirely believe you, but that’s okay. You’ve armed me with enough courage to stand next to Astrid. That’s all I needed.” Her expression changed again, into one of sheer delight. “Baby’s moving,” she muttered, reaching for his hand and flattening it against her stomach.
Miranda had told him how active the baby had been, but the movement never seemed to happen when Andrew was around, or when it did, he wasn’t able to detect it. He still couldn’t feel it now, and he really wanted to. “I just don’t feel it.”
“A little harder.” She pressed his hand even more firmly against her belly.
“I don’t want to hurt—” He didn’t manage another word before he felt little taps and flutters against his palm. Miranda’s pregnancy was mysterious and wondrous, but this was a whole new frontier. Her eyes sparkled when her gaze connected with his. “I feel it,” he whispered, dropping his eyes to her belly. “Wow. She’s really going for it, isn’t she?”
Miranda giggled. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“It really is.” He was so in awe that he didn’t dare move until the baby decided to stop making her presence known.
“We should go or we won’t be there early at all,” she said.
“Okay.”
Miranda stopped on her way out of the bedroom to grab her handbag and a wrap for her shoulders from the dresser. Downstairs, they gathered their coats. The ceremony was set to happen in Grant’s backyard, which overlooked the Pacific, and although there would be heaters and, later, firepits, it would be chilly by evening.
Outside, they climbed into Miranda’s car, with Andrew behind the wheel. She pulled up the address for Grant’s house on the GPS. Andrew wasn’t entirely sure of the way. As he drove, he could feel his shoulders tighten up. He’d spent so much time worrying about what Grant and Tara would say to him today, that he hadn’t taken the time to think about the fact that he hadn’t been to a wedding since his fiancée left him. It’s nothing, he said to himself, but it was eating at him. It was yet another reminder of the many times he’d come up short. Could he ever be enough for Miranda? The fact that he was competing with the memory of Johnathon, the one person he’d always come in second place to, didn’t help.
He was in love with her. He couldn’t deny himself that label for his feelings, even if he kept it tightly contained in his head and had done so for weeks now, especially since the night they’d made love in her office and had such a heartbreakingly frank conversation. Despite the sensitive subject matter, Miranda brought so much naked honesty to the equation, it stole his breath away. Before he’d met her, Andrew had existed in a world built on fast moves, dubious motives and sleight of hand. Miranda was a complete one-eighty from that, and it fed his soul in a way he hadn’t counted on.
He kept looking for moments where he could chalk up his feelings to lust or infatuation, but every time, his thinking led back to one word—love. Whenever they were around each other, she’d do or say something that made him want to say it. Even the simplest of smiles from her was enough to make it sit on his lips, but there was always something that made him choke it back.
Victor was the obvious reason. He wouldn’t feel right about even broaching the subject until that slate was wiped clean. He needed to fix the problem. But Johnathon was also lurking in the back of his head, telling him that he was treading where he didn’t belong.
“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked when they pulled up to Grant’s palatial modern home. “You’ve been quiet.”
Now was not the time to unspool everything running circles in his head. “I guess I’m just curious about what Grant has to say to us.”
“Nothing else? Because I was thinking about it last night and I have to wonder if it’s hard for you to attend a wedding because of your fiancée.” Miranda was so in tune with him, it was uncanny. No, she hadn’t touched on everything that was bothering him, but she’d keyed in on part of it.
“Maybe a little. I’m fine now. Let’s go.” He climbed out of the car and helped her with her things.
“Okay. But let me know if you want to talk about it,” she said as they walked up the driveway. “Or if it becomes too much. I don’t want you to think I’m insensitive by bringing you here.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t.”
The front door was wide open, with the occasional person ducking in or out. They stepped inside and asked
one of the caterers, “Do you know where Mr. Singleton is?”
“The last time I saw him, he was in his office. Right off the living room. Across from the kitchen.”
Miranda and Andrew walked through the wide expanse of the living room, which had been tastefully decorated for the holidays with a tall Christmas tree next to the fireplace, decorated with silver and white ornaments. The house was unbelievable, with stunning views through many windows, all of them leading the eye to the lush landscape and the ocean beyond.
Tara emerged from a door near the back of the house and waved at them. She was wrapped up in a fluffy white robe. “I’m glad you guys are here,” she called as she padded toward them in bare feet. “Grant is right in here.” She came to a stop outside his office.
Miranda stopped to kiss her on the cheek. “I thought it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride.”
“That’s just if she’s wearing the dress. Hence the robe. Plus, I don’t really believe in bad luck. Bad actors, maybe.” Tara then turned her attention to Andrew, shocking the hell out of him by offering a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
You are? This was all too bizarre, but Andrew wasn’t about to argue. Today was her wedding day. She was entitled to act however she wanted, even if Andrew was thrown for a loop. “I’m happy to be here.”
The three stepped inside Grant’s home office, tastefully decorated, but it could definitely have benefited from Miranda’s deft touch. Grant looked up from his desk, then rounded it to hug Miranda and shake hands with Andrew. He wasn’t dressed for the occasion yet, either, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “Thank you both for coming early. Please. Sit.”
This felt a bit like a meeting at Sterling Enterprises, but again, Andrew went with it. He made sure Miranda had her first choice of seating option—the middle of the sofa. He sat next to her while Tara stood next to Grant, the pair holding hands.
“So, I’m sure you’re both curious about why we wanted to say this in person, but after everything at Thanksgiving, and then again a few weeks ago in the Sterling offices, Andrew deserves a full-fledged in-person apology. Tara and I are both deeply sorry that we doubted you.”
“About Victor?”
“Grant thinks he figured out who he is,” Tara said. “His true identity.”
Miranda shot a look at Andrew. “Oh, my God. Can you believe this?”
“I’m curious to hear what you learned.” Andrew nodded. After all, he’d been the person shouting loudest that Victor was a real person.
“One of the first times Johnathon and I partnered with another developer on a building project, it was with a man named James Bloodworth,” Grant started. “This was early days of Sterling Enterprises, after Tara had left the company.”
“I remember the Bloodworth fiasco, though,” Tara said. “Everyone talked about it.”
“Johnathon had been interested in trying a project outside of San Diego, so we partnered with James on a high-rise in Toronto. In short, the deal was a major disaster for him and for Sterling. Everyone lost a pile of money. We underestimated the timeline and the building costs, and we grossly overestimated the market at that time. It was the one and only time we worked outside this city.”
“I don’t understand. Where does Victor come into this?” Miranda asked, mirroring what Andrew was thinking.
“Victor is James Bloodworth’s middle name. Of course, I never knew that,” Grant said. “He was terrible to work with. A real hothead. Johnathon and I agreed that we would never partner with him again. At some point, Johnathon went behind my back and cut several deals with him directly, using his own money.”
This had been the missing piece of this puzzle—Johnathon’s initial partnership with Victor and how Grant could’ve been left in the dark. Grant did know Victor. The names just weren’t right. “This is all starting to make more sense. How did you figure this out?” Andrew had to know how this had come together.
“I’ve been going through Johnathon’s files since his death. Just making sure there wasn’t anything crucial tucked away in them. He wasn’t always the best at sharing information.” Grant cast Tara a knowing smile. “I had a box of them here at the house and Tara needed me to move them into my office for the wedding. I only had one more file to go through, so I did it this morning. It was the last file. Under V, for Victor. As near as I can tell, he stopped using his full name after that first failed deal.”
Andrew drew a deep breath in through his nose, letting it bring some much-needed oxygen to his brain. Yes, this all made sense, but it was still a lot to take in at one time.
“What does this mean moving forward?” Miranda asked.
“Hopefully, destroying our wedding was the extent of his malicious actions,” Tara answered. “We find out who landed the Seaport project on Wednesday, right before Christmas Eve.”
What a relief that will be. It almost sounded too good to be true. In fact, Andrew couldn’t escape the idea that it likely was. He simply didn’t trust Victor to stop or to simply go away. Then again, maybe he was just giving in to old thinking and needed some time to adjust to the idea of not being in constant crisis mode.
Grant extended his hand to Andrew. “I’d like to apologize again. Johnathon definitely left a few surprises behind for us, didn’t he?”
Miranda placed her hand on Andrew’s knee. “I’m just glad we can all move forward,” she said. Her touch was a comfort. It felt like permission to take a deep breath and relax. He hoped he could do that today.
“A wedding seems like a good start,” Grant said, taking Tara’s hand.
A look of panic crossed Tara’s face. “I need to get ready.” She shot Miranda a sideways glance. “Do you want to come help me?”
“Sure.”
* * *
Miranda knew all along that the situation with Grant, Tara and Andrew had been bothering her, but now that it was resolved, she could hardly believe it. Perhaps that was because Andrew still seemed on edge, forcing smiles and being quiet as she kissed him on the cheek before going to help Tara. “Sit up front. So I can see you.”
“I don’t feel comfortable doing that. Those seats are for family.”
She realized then that she was practically throwing him to the wolves. This wasn’t set to be a big wedding, but most guests had known Johnathon, which meant they likely did not have a good opinion of Andrew. “Sit wherever you want. The ceremony will be super short. Then we can spend the rest of the day together.”
He unleashed another of those unconvincing smiles. Miranda felt torn between the things she’d promised to Tara, and what she truly wanted to do, which was hold on to Andrew and not let go.
“I will be fine, Miranda. I promise.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you after the ceremony.”
She admired his strong silhouette as he walked away in the direction of the living room. A heavy sigh came from her lips. She was smitten. But she needed to focus on the task at hand. She turned and rushed down the hall to Grant and Tara’s bedroom, where Tara was getting ready.
“If you can just help me get into my dress without getting makeup all over it, that would be great,” Tara said.
“Hold on.” Astrid slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. “I’m an expert at this. Let me help.” Astrid was a former model. She’d likely done this sort of thing countless times.
“You’re here,” Miranda said, unable to tear her sights from how incredible Astrid looked in that dress. Andrew’s words echoed in her head. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It might not be true, but he at least knew the right thing to say.
“If you could help, that would be amazing,” Tara said, easing the robe from her shoulders.
Feeling useless, Miranda stepped aside, leaving Astrid to the job of wrangling the dress. She removed it from the hanger and threaded her arms up through the skirt and bodice, then lifted
it above Tara’s head. Astrid was tall, and in heels, so she did it with ease. “Raise your arms straight up, but put your chin to your chest,” Astrid instructed.
Tara did as she was told. “Won’t this mess up my hair?”
“A little. But we’ll fix it.” Astrid lowered the gown while Tara’s torso emerged through the top. Astrid helped her ease the straps over her shoulders, then went to zip her up. “See? No makeup, and your hair looks perfect.”
Tara turned around in her dress, a simple but striking winter white satin gown with thin straps, a deep V-neck and a graceful trailing skirt. Astrid and Miranda raced to deliver the good news—she was a beautiful bride.
“It’s incredible,” Astrid declared.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Miranda added. “Grant’s going to flip.”
“I’m so glad you’re both here. You really are my closest girlfriends. Which is strange, isn’t it?”
“I wonder what Johnathon would have thought if he’d ever lived to see this day,” Astrid wondered aloud.
“I’m guessing his ego would’ve been out of control,” Tara said. “We look amazing.”
Miranda laughed, but she was a little tired of entertaining questions of how Johnathon would’ve felt about anything. Yes, she’d loved him, but guesses about his wants and desires were looming as too big a presence in all of their lives. “I think it’s more important we acknowledge everything the three of us have done to find common ground and work together. It’s pretty astounding if you think about it. We could have easily walked out of the lawyer’s office after the will was read and gone our separate ways.”
“I think that was the money talking,” Tara said, walking over to her bureau and checking her makeup in the mirror hanging over it.
“No. Miranda’s right,” Astrid said. “The money might have been the starting point, but it was still up to us to keep it all together. That wasn’t easy. There were secrets looming and we had to ride it out together.” She reached for Miranda’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “And now we have a wedding to celebrate, a baby who will be here in a few months and, hopefully, if everything goes right, Sterling Enterprises will win the Seaport contract.”
