The Tattered Bride

by Peri Elizabeth Scott

  She shoved that memory away, along with the little voice. She’d been a kid, pretending her life was normal and would get back on track. She wasn’t going to lie to herself this time, merely twist the situation, and hey, make it work for her. As an adult, she had the power.

  Big sister Juliana, and Victoria’s nephew and niece were crouched alongside the flower bed skirting her tiny cottage, ostensibly pulling weeds. Her sister levered to her feet and rushed the car, pulling Victoria into a tight hug as she emerged. She’d taken off her matron-of-honor dress at some point and changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

  “What an asshole.”

  “Maybe I called it off.” She hugged her sister tight and refused to cry.

  “As if.” Juliana leaned back and looked up into Victoria’s eyes. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “No. Logan decided he didn’t want to get married.” A slight variation, but still practice. It still fucking hurt. She had to make it so it would feel as though it had happened to someone else. Desensitizing, she thought it was called, itching to get to the office.

  “Why not?”

  “She has no idea and isn’t inclined to find out. She thinks she’s figured out the reason on her own.” Their mom updated Juliana and cuddled Mikey and Sabrina close when they milled around Victoria’s legs. “Where’s Paige and the kids?”

  “Had to go home. Too much excitement. You know how Murphy gets without a nap. Robert and Michael decided to stay out of the line of fire, and went golfing in their suits. Straight to the course. It was that or they were going to hunt Logan down and have it out with him.”

  Victoria blessed the fact she had such a wonderful family. Her brothers-in-law would indeed chase Logan down at a word from her but would defer to the first line of defence—her mom and sisters. She loved her nieces and nephews too, and seeing as she’d never have any of her own—

  The truth smacked her in the face. There would never be anyone else in her life. Not only because she’d never trust another man, but because her heart belonged forever to one Logan Doherty. Never mind he’d ripped it from her chest to crumple and shred it. A faint sound escaped her and Juliana stepped in for another hug, this time patting Victoria’s back in one of those soothing motions she used on her kids when they were struggling or thwarted.

  “It’ll be okay, Tori. It will.”

  Mikey and Sabrina were staring at them, and her niece’s bottom lip was trembling. Oh, no. No. Logan wasn’t going to impact her family any further. He was not. Victoria stood tall once again, gently disengaging from Juliana. It would be okay. It had to be. She focused on Sabrina.

  “Hey, Sunshine.”

  The little girl hesitantly moved toward her. She still wore her bridal party dress, now stained with dirt and grass.

  “Did you pull out all of Auntie’s nasty weeds?”

  “Where’s your princess dress? And your crown?” The child’s eyes were huge.

  Victoria’s hand lifted involuntarily to where her pseudo tiara had secured her veil. She supposed it was in the gutter too, and that brought tears to her eyes. She’d loved that tiara, having chosen it with her nieces’ help. “Sorry, Sabrina. I’m not going to be a princess after all.”

  “But, Auntie! Logan’s your prince! I like him.”

  “The prince forgot the shoe, Sabby. I can’t become a princess without a glass slipper.” She stuck her foot out to display the pink clog.

  “Huh.” Her sweet niece puffed up with outrage as predicted, her anxiety displaced. “I liked the paper-bagged princess better anyhow.”

  Juliana gave a startled snort of laughter at the reference to the childhood book, and Victoria heard their mom gasp. Out of the mouths of babes, etcetera. Victoria should have identified with that gem or something, but instead, she fought against crushing sadness. With an effort, she smoothed Sabrina’s hair, her hand trembling. “Right. Me too.”

  “Here’s your purse. Your keys and phone are inside. I thought you’d need them.”

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “Logan has lit your phone up. And a ton of others. I didn’t answer, just silenced the thing. Kaitlyn and Theresa send their love and want to take you out to get smashed.”

  Her best friends were her sisters, but Kate and Theresa were good people. She simply couldn’t deal with their way of addressing tragedy. “I’ll call them later.”

  “We brought your car back too.” Juliana gestured behind the house.

  “Thank you. I’ll need it. I’m going into work.” Her ability to think clearly had no doubt been compromised, but she needed the distraction—badly.

  “I figured you might. That’s what I told the guys and Paige. Moving on, right?” At Victoria’s shrug, she continued, “You come by tonight and we’ll talk. Paige will be there. Mom, you come too. We need to give Tori a little time before an intervention.”

  “It seems my role’s been usurped.” Their mother’s tone was wry but also full of acceptance. “If that’s what will help…”

  Kissing her sister and mother on the cheek, Victoria ruffled the kids’ hair and hurried into her place, the house key cooperating despite her icy fingers. She left her purse on the table and rushed to the bedroom, tearing off the borrowed clothes as she went. After fumbling into a bra, she chose a pair of tight jeans and a casual shirt and then stepped into a pair of flats.

  A lick of makeup very nearly hid her pallor and empty eyes, and she added some colorful earrings to brighten her look. She checked her phone and the number of calls and texts were staggering. Her bridesmaids had called, and Jon, as he’d said. A few others were numbers she didn’t recognize, but a vast amount were from Logan.

  Grabbing a jacket, she snagged her purse, worried she was working against a deadline. Logan now clearly had thought of something to say—an explanation—but she wasn’t listening. There was nothing he could say. She’d meant what she’d said. Never. Again. In fact, she’d stop on the way to the office and get a new number and a new phone for good measure.

  When she arrived at her place of work, clutching her new smartphone in a stupidly pink case in one hand and a tray of lattes in another, Jon was pacing. He rushed to relieve her of her burden, carefully setting the coffees down before wrapping her up in a hug. She was going to break into pieces if people kept this up.

  “How are you?”

  “If you quit asking me, I’ll let you have one of the lattes.”

  “Oh. Right. I’ll stop.” He peered into her face, his blue eyes nearly as dark as her own, and with thicker lashes. Jon was too pretty for a man, but it suited him, and he played it up with an exquisite taste in clothing and expensive haircuts.

  “I’m bursting with ideas. You ready?”

  “As ever. Though I should tell you Logan called.” He held up a hand at her start. “I didn’t tell him you were coming. Just that you weren’t here. What could he possibly want? He didn’t get a chance to jilt you thoroughly enough?”

  “Jilt?” Victoria hadn’t heard that word—in ever. She didn’t think.

  “You know. Rejected. Abandoned. Spurned.”

  Each word arrowed straight through her spurious defense and she grabbed for a latte to hide behind. “I like spurned the best. Spurned.” If she said it three times fast it didn’t sting.

  “What?”

  “As the title of our spread. ‘Spurned: The Tattered Bride’. Jilted doesn’t have the same effect. It sounds more like a jousting tournament or something.” And listen to her, being all lighthearted and funny.

  “If you’re sure, Tori.”

  Was she? Did she have a choice? “Lemons and lemonade, Jon. I appear to have a shitload.”

  “There’s no chance he’s rethought it? Wants you back?”

  “And I should take him back, if that were even possible? Trust a man who might as well have slayed me?” It should have sounded terribly dramatic, but it rang so truthful Jon’s face fell.

  “No. Trust is the basis for any relationship, sweetie. I just thought…”

/>   “I know. Everybody hopes for that happily ever after.” Except for her and the paper-bagged princess. Who had the healthier attitude?

  “Well, if you’re here to work, let’s have at it.”

  ****

  “She’s out there, but I have no idea where.” Logan fought the urge not to hurl his phone at the wall of windows gracing his large corner unit. “And she must have a new number. I can’t even get her voicemail anymore.”

  “She wouldn’t give you a chance to explain?”

  “What was I supposed to tell her, Mom? He has me over a barrel. Until I can figure a way around his machinations, I’m stuck. When he showed up at the church and dropped the bombshell, I knew he’d go through with it, that everything was in place and nothing I could do would stop it unless I called off the wedding right then and there. He flashed his phone, all ready to send that text.”

  And it went without saying that as the absolute pinnacle of humiliation for the woman Sean Doherty didn’t want his son to marry, the old man couldn’t have timed it better. The bastard had slipped into his seat just as Victoria came up the aisle, looking so beautiful and hopeful that the dichotomy of the situation ripped something deep inside Logan. And for once in his life, he’d been immobilized until the warmth of her hand in his spurred him into action. The only private place had been that little room, and trying to find the words…

  He pressed a hand over his eyes. He hadn’t been able to manufacture even the shoddiest excuse, because no justification would have been true.

  The largesse in inviting the entire congregation back to consume the reception food and drink had been a master stroke by the old man too. Even if Logan could have talked Victoria into giving him a chance, to wait for an explanation at a later date when it wouldn’t matter that she found out the truth, facing all those people would be daunting. Memories were very long. And Victoria was so damn sensitive when it came to men. He had labored intensely to gain her trust and had been forced to break it today. The idea of patricide flitted in and out of his thoughts as his mother spoke again.

  “I called her mother,” his mom said. “All she could tell me is that Victoria nearly collapsed, but then she rallied and is moving in some new direction. I could tell it upset Margaret.”

  Fuck. It upset him, and that was putting it mildly. His woman was strong—and resilient. But he knew her personal history. The look in her eyes when he’d called off their wedding and hadn’t explained why—there was no point in tormenting himself in the daytime. He’d have enough nightmares to keep him company, and he’d be sleeping alone. Whatever Victoria was embarking on wouldn’t bode well for their relationship. He snorted. What relationship? He’d destroyed that with a few words. Or lack of them.

  The sight of her veil lying in the street, a forlorn drift of fabric barely anchored by the delicate tiara she’d picked in honor of all the little princesses in their lives, would haunt him forever. It hadn’t withstood the big tires of the limo taking his father to the reception, nor the other vehicles that followed. Logan thought his chest would crack open when he’d retrieved only the bent and battered headpiece, the veil beyond repair.

  “I’ll haunt her place tonight, Mom. She has to go home sometime, and I have a key.” Although, with his father, it stood to reason that he’d have Victoria followed, the better to ensure Logan wasn’t reneging. So, he’d be careful. “In the meantime, I’ll start deconstructing my crazy sire’s masterpiece.”

  “He’s like Machiavelli. Or … or a bloated spider with a twisted web. And he’s had a long time to perfect the art. I’m sure he’s steps ahead, Logan. I don’t understand why he disapproves of Victoria.”

  “He wants me to make an upwardly mobile marriage.”

  “Look where that got him,” she said, bitterness flavoring her tone.

  “It got me one of the best mothers around. And Jackson, and Evelyn, and Christina.”

  “I love you too, Logan. In case I don’t tell you often enough. As for your siblings, you need to tell them what their father did. Let them help you. They were flabbergasted today.”

  “I can’t. You know that was one of his conditions. No one else is to know but him and me, or he’ll blow us all out of the water. And Jackson would take his head off without slowing down to think. As for my sisters… Well, they might think on it for a couple of minutes before doing the right thing, but there are thousands of other people out there counting on me. I broke his rules bringing you in on it, but I know he can’t read you and you’ll never let on.”

  “So you’ll give up your chance at happiness for the stockholders?”

  “And for our staff, the clients, my family. Victoria will understand once I’ve dealt with it and tell her.” She had to. Of course she would. His girl never put herself first, so he’d made sure to assume that role until…

  “You should have told her up front,” his mother fretted.

  He kicked a chair, and it skidded across the polished hardwood, bumping into the coffee table where a slender figurine wobbled. Logan sprinted to catch it. Victoria had left only tiny imprints in his home if one overlooked the spare room crammed to the brim with wedding gifts, but the crafted figure he rescued was one of them. Anything of hers was carefully chosen and definitely meaningful.

  Taking a deep breath, he answered, “Victoria couldn’t have hidden her reaction from the old man today if it meant saving the universe. He’d have known we were merely postponing the marriage. He set us up perfectly and I had to avoid telling her anything.” And drive her away.

  “He’s a bastard. He’ll go straight to hell.” Tears clogged her voice and she sniffled.

  Logan wasn’t sure he believed in hell, but the old man deserved to burn there if anybody did. “Gotta go, Mom. I have everything here I need.” Except Victoria. “And Dad will never know I’m suborning him. I’m far better at this than he is.” He hoped. The problem was, it would take time, and that was a luxury he couldn’t afford regarding Victoria.

  “Good luck, son. I’m here if you need me. Any time. And I’ll keep in contact with Margaret, and try to keep the connection.”

  Carefully setting down the figurine, his fingertips feathering the long, smooth body, he made his way to his study, a pretentious name for a home office, but one the Doherty family used since he was a kid. All the files he required were on a couple of thumb drives his PA had spirited from the office.

  While his father was squatting in the church like a malignant demon, ready to unleash his own particular brand of hellfire on unsuspecting people if his youngest son didn’t toe the line, Logan had gotten word to Elaine. The woman had slipped from the church, right after Victoria, like a master of undercover stealth to perform the theft, and he’d be forever grateful to her.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m seeing two of everything.” Jon rubbed at his eyes, then his chest. “And that take-out food is talking back.”

  “The result is good enough that I don’t mind seeing double.” Victoria surveyed the layout with bone deep satisfaction—and something else she refused to define. It was sheltered by the numbness at her core.

  “It freaking well is, honey. Any ideas of who we’ll get for the model?”

  Someone polar opposite to me. She didn’t voice the instant response, smothering it with a gulp of cold latte. At least she wasn’t suffering from the after effects of Thai, being unable to choke any down. With a grimace, she set the cup away and pretended to speculate. “Medium height, blonde over brown—or gray, ethereal.”

  “That would work.” Jon hadn’t asked again if she was certain she could do this, though she hadn’t missed the sideways glances as they’d toiled on the layout.

  But she’d maintained her work demeanor, intent and focused, and he’d partnered her with that eerie connection they had. He might be the boss, but he loved to do this kind of work, a hobby to give him a break from his real position. Maybe she should marry Jon, seeing as they could finish one another’s sentences, and they never really tan
gled. And cheating wouldn’t be a big issue, seeing as he batted for the other team. A bitter lance of humor made her lips twitch.

  “What? I don’t see a thing funny here, Victoria. Profound sadness, and lots of darkness, despite the blank face.” He frowned at her, perfectly coiffed hair ruffled, his tie unknotted.

  She yawned to cover the ghastly smile. “Tired unto death, Jon. Nothing funny. What time is it?”

  “Nearly four in the damn morning.”

  Her wedding had been scheduled for twelve hours earlier—she batted the thought away. “No wonder we’re tired.”

  “And I have a breakfast date at ten.” He waggled his eyebrows. “He plays tennis.”

  “Then head out and get a few hours, my friend. You have bags under your eyes and your date deserves a well-rested match.”

  “You have holes where your eyes should be.”

  “Nice. So good for a girl’s self-esteem.” She laced her tone with as much sarcasm as she could muster, and Jon lifted a hand in apology.

  “You’re going home too, right?” he asked.

  “In a bit.” She’d canceled the intervention at her sister’s last night, making the call from the ladies’ room. A good thing, because Juliana’s reaction had been epic. Both her sisters, never mind her mother, had threatened to come straight down to the office and drag her home. It was only the promise that she would come by in the morning that held them at bay. That, and the fact she told them they’d never get into the building. She wanted her family’s support, but she needed this more.

  “You can’t possibly have enough energy to continue on this. And you’ll over-tweak it.”