by Karen Booth
Miranda sighed. It would be nice if that last part happened, but she was also preparing herself for the idea that it might not, and how that might impact Andrew. It could end up being a big blow to his sense of self and the guilt he wrestled with on a daily basis. “Let’s all hope for a happy ending.”
Astrid’s phone beeped with a text. “It’s Clay. Grant is down there and Clay is waiting to walk you down the aisle. Delia’s with him.”
“Sounds like it’s game time,” Miranda said.
After a last-minute spray of perfume and hairspray for Tara, Miranda checked to make sure the coast was clear in the hall, then they wound around to the back staircase, which led to Grant’s lower floor. This house was built into a slight hill, with two thirds of this level still above ground. At the back of the house was a wall of accordion windows that were open today, with the wedding guests in white wooden folding chairs on the expansive lawn. Beyond that was the arch, covered in a blanket of white roses. That had been Miranda’s touch. Luckily, Grant had a tall solid wood fence on one side of his property, which gave them privacy and a break from the wind.
“Ready?” Clay asked, approaching the three of them. Delia was holding tight to his hand, but broke free when she saw Miranda.
Miranda crouched down and kissed her niece on the head. “You look very pretty in your flower-girl dress.”
“Thank you. These shoes hurt my feet, though.” She rocked one foot from side to side in her white patent Mary Janes.
“Yeah. I’m afraid that’s one of the prices of being a woman. Wearing shoes that hurt.”
“It’s time to go,” Astrid said. She arranged everyone in order—Delia first, then Miranda, Astrid and finally Tara on Clay’s arm.
Moments later, the music started and Delia did a wonderful job, tossing flower petals as she started down the aisle. The guests stood, and that was when Miranda spotted Andrew, sitting in the second-to-last row, at the very far end. Would he ever feel a part of this? She hoped he would. She hoped he would want to. As she took her turn to march up the aisle, she stole the chance to lock eyes with him, finding that familiar mix of sad and tender emotions in his expression.
As promised, the ceremony was short and sweet, and after a rousing round of applause from the attendees and the happy couple’s walk down the aisle, the caterers swooped in to rearrange the chairs for the reception as guests left their seats. Miranda found her way to Andrew right away.
“It was nice,” he said.
“It was, wasn’t it?” She took his hand. “You positive everything is okay?”
He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You can stop asking me that. Just enjoy yourself. That’s all I really want.”
That didn’t bring her much comfort or encouragement, but she didn’t want to dig deeper. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having. I heard something about a spiced Christmas cider.”
“You want bourbon in yours?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“You should have a drink if you want one.”
“Think of it as a sign of solidarity.”
She grinned and popped up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.” “I love you” played at her lips, but she didn’t want this to be the moment when she blurted it out. She’d wait until she was more sure that there was a chance he would return the feeling. And if that day never came, and he ended up leaving, she’d say it then. Just so he’d never doubt her true feelings. Just so that he could look back on their time together in a happy light. Things between them would never be simple, or cut and dried. Never. He was her dead husband’s brother. That was never going away.
They happily made it through dinner and the start of the reception without incident, although Miranda definitely noticed that a few of Johnathon’s friends had cast disapproving looks in their direction when she and Andrew were holding hands or dancing. It’s none of their business, she thought, but she knew it had to bother Andrew. She couldn’t shake it off completely herself.
They were in each other’s arms on the dance floor when a slow and romantic song segued into a much more raucous one. Guests popped up from their seats and began to move in Miranda and Andrew’s direction. She took that as their cue to leave.
“Come on. Let’s go steal a minute alone before we sneak out of here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled on it.
Andrew took a few steps, but looked out over the party, which was now in full swing. “This is showing signs of lasting all night. Are you sure it’s okay if we leave?”
“I’m sure. The cake has been cut. Toasts have been made.” She tugged a little harder on his hand. “I want us to have the moment alone that we didn’t really get all day.”
He grinned. “I can’t deny that’s an enticing invitation.”
They rushed away from the party, out of the light, and into the deep blue night air. The wind whipped, chilling her face and arms. Miranda had a fleeting thought of a wish for her coat, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. When they got to the farthest reaches of Grant’s property, they were less than fifty feet from the precipice, the cliff that overlooked the tumult of the ocean below.
“Come here,” Andrew said, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her up in his warmth. She didn’t need a coat—all she needed was him. “You’re shivering.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to soak up this view. With you.” She snuggled against his chest and gazed out over the water. The moon, hanging low in the sky, glowed bright, the light glinting off the whitecaps. “Did you enjoy yourself today? I know it couldn’t have been easy with so many of Johnathon’s friends here.”
He tightened his embrace, making her feel like nothing could ever hurt her. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he left, but she wasn’t going to waste time worrying about what might happen.
“It’s not anything I’m not used to, Miranda. I’ve spent my entire life contending with my brother. Even in death, he casts a long shadow.”
“At some point, you have to find a way to let that fall away. But that’s easy for me to say. I’ve never had to do something like that.”
“It’s hard when other people foist it upon you. But today was a first step away from that. Tara and Grant finally seeing the light was a good thing.”
She eased back her head so she could peer up into his handsome face. She was so glad for a blip of positivity from him. “See? It will just take time.”
His hand rose to her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin tenderly. “Speaking of time, I think it’s time I get you out of here, into the car and back to a warm house.”
“And a warm bed?”
“It will be when we’re done with it.”
Twelve
On the Monday morning after Grant and Tara’s nuptials, Andrew was shaken from his sleep by a terrible thought. He sat up in bed, his breathing labored. What if the wedding cancellation had been a distraction from Victor’s true plan to go after Sterling?
“Are you okay?” Miranda muttered, rolling over in bed. “You were talking in your sleep.”
Andrew didn’t want to share his theory. He wasn’t quite awake and hadn’t had a chance to think this through. Leaning down, he kissed Miranda’s shoulder. “I’m fine. I’ll go put on some coffee.”
She snuggled her pillow closer. “I’ll be down in a little bit. My alarm isn’t set to go off for another half hour.”
Andrew took his time getting downstairs, thinking through his last conversation with Victor. Victor had suggested that he might interfere with the personal lives of those involved. That explained the problems with the wedding. But it didn’t account for the Seaport project, and that was one thing Victor had always fixated on. It was, after all, Johnathon’s last chance to be held up as a pillar of his community.
Andrew gr
ound the coffee beans and leaned against the counter as the carafe filled up, drip by drip. The more awake he was, the more likely his idea seemed, but Grant and Tara felt like they were in the home stretch of the Seaport Promenade project. Nothing to worry about. He didn’t want to go to them with his theory. It might set them back to right where they’d been before, at war, and with Andrew out in the cold. The person he really needed to broach this with was Clay. But when? It was 7:10 a.m., and Andrew really didn’t want Miranda to overhear this conversation with her brother. Hopefully, Clay would understand that Andrew had a good reason for calling.
Clay answered after only one ring. “So I’m not the only one who’s an early riser?” he asked.
Andrew managed to grin, despite the worries on his mind. “I don’t sleep a lot.”
“Me, neither. What’s up?”
Andrew could hear Miranda walking around upstairs. She must not have been able to get back to sleep. This would have to be quick. “Can you do me a favor and check in with the city today about the submission for the Seaport?”
“They’ve made it clear that they don’t want us doing that. They’re supposed to issue their final decision on Wednesday. December twenty-third.”
“I understand, but I’m worried that what Victor pulled with Tara and Grant’s wedding was a distraction. It forced everyone, especially Tara and Grant, to focus on things other than work over the last two weeks.” Andrew really hoped that this conjecture would all end up being nothing. “This is just a precaution. You guys are so close to the finish line. I’d hate for anything to mess that up.”
“Okay. Sure thing. I’ll do it as soon as I get into the office.”
Andrew heard Miranda’s footsteps on the stairs. “Let me know what you learn.”
“Will do.”
Andrew ended the call and tucked his phone into the back pocket of his pajama pants just as Miranda was walking into the room. Seeing her always brought up a firestorm of feelings. He was tired of living on this edge, where he was in her life but not all the way in. Where his affection for her had been expressed physically, but never in words. He wanted to put everything on the line, but he was terrified of where it would leave Miranda. If he ended up going back to Seattle, he had to know that she’d be okay. That he hadn’t made everything she’d been through so much worse, by stirring up trouble and leaving it unresolved.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Please. You know how I feel about Mondays.”
He poured her a cup of coffee, adding a healthy splash of cream. “I’m hoping this will make it ever so slightly better.”
“Exactly the way I like it.” She took a sip, then smiled warmly at him.
Moments like this really got to him—the seemingly insignificant glimpses of everyday life. He couldn’t fathom leaving San Diego once everything with Victor was resolved. If it’s resolved, he reminded himself. The reality was that he wouldn’t feel good about professing his feelings, or his desire to stay, until he had redeemed himself. Grant and Tara’s forgiveness had been a big step forward, but he wanted a clean slate. Miranda deserved a fresh start that came without conditions.
“I’ve decided not to go into the office for the rest of the week after today.” Miranda reached for his hand. “It’ll give us some time together. A few days before Christmas to relax.”
Andrew hadn’t wanted anything so badly, ever. “Great.”
“I ordered some artwork for the nursery a month or so ago. It’s due to arrive tomorrow. We could hang that. Maybe watch a Christmas movie.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. That probably sounds pretty unexciting.”
It sounds like everything I ever wanted. “I’m sure it’ll be more fun than work.”
“That reminds me. I need to check my email. There’s a chance my only client meeting today is going to be moved up. I’ll be right back.” She traipsed off into the living room, presumably heading for her office.
Andrew went to work on breakfast—some eggs, sausage and fresh fruit—and tried to clear his head. There was a distinct chance that everything was fine—Clay might very well call him sometime after nine and proclaim that all was good with Sterling’s place in the final round for the Seaport project. Miranda would come home after work and he’d make a fabulous meal for her. Hopefully, they’d make love and he’d hold her in his arms while she slept. They’d spend several days together, tucked away in this house, and ultimately spend a beautiful holiday together. His first truly happy Christmas.
If all of that could happen, it might be the right time to tell her his true feelings. He’d put it all on the line. And if he was fortunate, Miranda would say that she felt the same way. Could he be that lucky? He wanted to believe he was due, but he was smart enough to know that the world didn’t always work like that.
Miranda joined him in the kitchen and they sat down to breakfast together.
With her first bite, Miranda moaned. “You’re spoiling me.” She always expressed her sincere appreciation for his cooking skills, and this morning was no different.
He soaked up every second of the attention. “Not possible.”
She grinned. “I like watching you try.”
And I love trying. After breakfast was done, Miranda went up to shower while Andrew cleaned up the kitchen and prayed that his phone would ring soon. It didn’t happen before Miranda was out the door for work, so Andrew got cleaned up and dressed for the day.
The caller ID lit up with Clay’s information a little after ten. “You were right. Our bid has been withdrawn. Completely taken out of the running.”
Andrew’s heart began to hammer. He took no pleasure in seeing his hunch proven right. “What happened?”
“Apparently, a woman with a letter on Sterling Enterprises letterhead showed up at the planning office on Friday morning. It was a formal request to withdraw from the competition.”
“The day before the wedding.”
“Yes. Grant and Tara weren’t in the office at all that day. And neither was I because they had the Christmas pageant at Delia’s school that morning, then I went with Grant to pick up their rings.”
“Can you undo what’s been done?” Andrew’s mind was running a million miles a minute as he thought about what his next move might be.
“Yes. We’ve already begun the process. The clerk was annoyed at first, but I think I sweet-talked her. That’s not really my forte, but I think we’re going to be okay.”
Finally, Andrew could exhale. Clay had set things back on track from the Sterling side of things. Still, this had been entirely too close a call. Andrew needed Sterling to get across the finish line on Wednesday. They might not win the bid, but at least it would be because everything had played out the way it was supposed to. “Okay. I’m going to get to work on tracking down Victor and finally putting an end to this.”
“Andrew, you know I believe in you, but I’ve heard you say that so many times. What’s different today?”
All Andrew could think about was the prospect of spending the next few days with Miranda. Beyond that, maybe more? It felt like his future was lying at his feet, but he was going to have to wrap it all up. He had to redeem himself. “I have an idea.”
“Maybe there’s just no stopping this guy and we have to ride it out until he gets bored and walks away.”
“I’ve thought about that, but I don’t want us all existing under this dark cloud. It’s no way to live.”
“Us all? That almost makes it sound like you’re planning on staying. Have you and Miranda talked about this?”
Andrew hoped he wasn’t overstepping. “We haven’t. I haven’t felt right about saying anything until the Victor situation is resolved.”
“But you want to stay?”
“How would it make you feel if I said yes?” Andrew wanted to believe that he and Clay were close now, that it was okay for him to ask this question, but h
e wasn’t sure.
“I’d say that it’s an amazing idea.”
Andrew couldn’t contain the smile that crossed his face. “Good. Just don’t tell your sister. I’m not going to bring it up until this is all put to bed.”
“Don’t worry about me. Mum’s the word.”
Andrew’s phone beeped with another call. It was an unknown caller, but Andrew had an irrational hope that it might be Victor. “Clay, I need to go. Keep me posted if anything changes.”
“I will.” Andrew hung up and answered the other call. “Hello?”
“Mr. Sterling?”
Andrew was shocked as hell. “Sandy, are you okay? You sound terrible.”
“Were you serious about the offer you made me before?”
“Of course I was. Why? Are you thinking about flipping on Victor?”
“He just called me. He’s enraged. Someone at Sterling called the city and got them to put Sterling back into the bidding process. He thought he’d successfully pulled the company out of the running.”
Andrew didn’t want to tip his hand. He had little faith in the idea of trusting Sandy. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know.”
“He’s furious.”
Andrew’s stomach soured. “Look, Sandy. I’m happy to give you what I promised you, but at this point, I’m not sure you can help me. It sounds like Victor’s going to forge ahead, with or without you.”
“I have something that can help you take him down. Audio recordings.”
“Of what?”
“Every conversation he and I ever had. Everything he ever asked me to do. And it’s not just the Sterling Enterprises plan. Victor had me doing other corporate espionage. Scary stuff with very big players.”
Andrew’s thoughts were moving fast. “Will you give them to me? My offer still stands if you will. Five million.”
“The money’s not enough anymore. I need to disappear. I need to get to somewhere where he’ll never find me. I know too much and if the recordings come out, he’ll know that I double-crossed him.”
