Barrett looks at me with more approval than I feel I deserve, but I bask in it anyway. The violinist begins to play another song. No Paul. No Isa.
Some guests turn to each other and ask what we’ve been wondering. My stomach churns. Where is Paul? Is the wedding happening? I imagine Isa crying somewhere. “We can’t just stand here.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“Run?” I ask with a laugh, but I’m not really joking.
“I have a better idea.” He steps forward and offers his arm to me as if it’s part of the ceremony then escorts me to the side, past the groomsmen.
Barrett pauses to say to Zeke, “We’ll be back, but in the event that we’re not—good luck.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Barrett
Well, it was almost a wedding. I give Paul credit for getting as far as the altar this time. Who knows, next time he might even stay for the vows. With Audrey on my arm, I walk around one of the large white tents, out of sight of the guests.
I know locating Paul and Isa is our top priority, but I can’t wait a moment longer to taste what I told myself I wouldn’t give in to again. I pull Audrey to me. She throws her arms around my neck as I bend to kiss her. I’m done trying to figure out why it’s as good as it is. All I know is she fits me in a way no other woman has. My brain might not be ready to buy into the idea of insta-whatever this is, but my dick is all in and only one of them can be in charge at a time. I hand the next few minutes to my lower half.
Our first kisses were an exploration of each other, this is welcome back passion. It’s even more intense because the pleasure of the destination is known. I know. I know. I told myself to stay away from her and I’ll probably regret this, but no one could convince me it’s not worth it. Normally, I’m long-term-goal oriented. I keep things simple with women because they are a fringe component of the life I’ve created for myself. Audrey doesn’t feel like fringe, she feels important. I tell myself that’s lust speaking, but I raise my head and simply look into her eyes and wonder if it isn’t more. There’s something to our connection—something I can’t dismiss.
She smiles at me and I feel like a schoolboy with his first crush. I run my hand through her hair. “Sorry, I needed that.”
Her smile widens. “Anytime.”
“Oh, sorry,” Ben interrupts as he approaches. “Isa’s mother asked me to see why you walked out—but I can say I couldn’t find you.”
Audrey chuckles and buries her face in my chest. I loop my arms around her. Ben has the worst timing. Or maybe the best. “Say as little as possible. I need to talk to Paul first.”
“That makes sense,” Ben says with that big friendly-ass smile of his. “Hey, Audrey that dress is beautiful on you.”
“Thanks.” She turns to greet him.
Even though his presence is an annoyance, I appreciate that Ben wants to put Audrey at ease. I didn’t think he knew Isa’s parents, but I can guess how he met them. He just shows up, joins in, enjoys himself regardless of whether he’s welcome or not, and eventually he wears a person down.
Ben pockets his hands and rocks back on his heels. “I asked one of the staff if they saw which way Paul went and they said he and Isa headed toward the pool beyond the bar. He said it sounded like they were arguing.”
“Thanks Ben.” He’s still on my I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-you list, but every time I turn around he’s there doing something nice and smiling at me like we’re friends. I guess I could get used to having him around.
He glances over his shoulder before asking, “What should I say when I go back?”
“Say it’s a wardrobe malfunction,” Audrey suggests. When Ben and I look at her for more, she shrugs. “It’ll buy them time. No one will look for them by the pool if they think she’s having trouble with her dress.”
Ben snaps. “Brilliant. And Paul?”
Adding to Audrey’s creative spin, I say, “She waved for him to come help her. Somehow he saw her. Make some shit up like that.”
“Gotcha. Sounds good.” Ben waves and heads back to the wedding.
Audrey tilts her head back to look up at me. “If they’re arguing—should we wait until they resurface? I don’t want to intrude on a conversation like that.”
I take her hand and start walking toward the pool area. “If anyone has the right to ask them what the hell is going on it’s the best man and the maid of honor. Trust me, if Paul is backing out this late he’s going to need help because his mother will be livid.”
Her hand tightens on mine. “She won’t be the only one. If that’s what is happening there will be nothing left of Paul when I’m done with him.”
I smile and slow my stride. She’s walking fine today and it’s easy to forget she’s injured. My first impression of her as weak and clingy was wrong. “Easy there, Paul doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just not ready to be in a serious relationship.”
“Then he should stop asking women to marry him.”
“Touché.” If Paul is ditching Isa, I probably won’t see Audrey again after today, but—“I’m not saying it justifies his behavior but Paul is a pleaser, and his mother is a tough woman to please.”
Audrey stops and pulls me to a halt with her. “He’s not a child and breaking someone’s heart and humiliating them in front of everyone is not cute. I heard this is his fourth engagement. Shame on him for not learning from his first three and shame on you for condoning it.”
I raise my hands in protest. “Hey, I never said I condone any of this.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? And you don’t even look upset with him.”
“I’m his friend not his judge and jury.”
She pokes me in the chest. “You could be his voice of reason.”
I grab her hand and hold it. “Your friend got engaged to a man with a history of ditching and running. What’s her responsibility in this? What’s yours?”
Her hand relaxes in mine. “You’re right.”
In my experience those are not words women say. “What?”
She uses her other hand to slap my chest lightly. “You heard me. I just hate to think Paul might be breaking Isa’s heart.”
I bring her hand to my lips. “If it’s any consolation I’ll be mopping Paul off the floor for weeks. I wish I knew how to save him from repeating this downward spiral, but all I can do is be there to pick up the pieces.”
She studies my expression for a moment. “You’re a good friend to him.”
“If I need something, Paul is right there. Every time. No questions asked. He’s a horrible fiancé, but a good guy outside of that.”
“He must be—Isa thought he was worth the risk.”
“Some men don’t belong in relationships.” My throat tightens. She’s looking at me so openly that guilt washes through me. Despite how good it feels to be with her, I don’t see myself as a man with any staying power either. The difference between Paul and me is he tries to convince himself he can change.
“Men like you.” Her forehead wrinkles.
“Yes.”
“That’s a shame. I bet you change your mind someday.”
My mouth goes dry. “You think that because you don’t know me.”
She purses her lips then says, “Maybe I don’t—but I am a good people reader. You already know how to love. It’s right there in your friendship with Paul. The right person will bring out that side of you. Someday when I settle down, I hope it’s with someone who is first and foremost my best friend.”
“Settle down. Why is that part of anyone’s plan?” Something about the moment has me sharing more than I normally would. “I fought too hard to get where I am to give anyone the power to pull me down.”
I expect her to argue that the right woman wouldn’t. I’ve heard it all before. Instead, she caresses my cheek and says, “Someone hurt you. I respect that. My father walked out on my mother when she was pregnant with my brother, Joe. I barely remember my father. There was a time when I thought every man would disappoi
nt me—but I had to let it go because I realized I was giving my father more power over my life than he deserved. I shed the weight of the past and I’m happier for it. I hope one day you can do the same.”
“I’m happy exactly as I am,” I growl.
She smiles. “You sound it.”
My mood is taking a downward turn. She has me tangled up on the inside. I don’t want to think about my past. I want to say none of it matters anymore, but her words echo through me, and I realize that it has more power over me than it deserves.
I give her hand a tug and start walking. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
The path opens up to the pool area. I drop Audrey’s hand and start to run when I see Paul on his back on the ground with Isa in her wedding dress on her knees beside him.
She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face. “Do you have your phone? Call a doctor. We were talking and he just collapsed.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Barrett
“What the fuck, Paul. You scared the shit out of me.” I plop in a chair beside his bed in the main island hospital. The last few hours had been eventful to say the least. The resort’s doctor had taken one look at Paul and sent him to the main island hospital via air ambulance. I stayed behind long enough to funnel the guests to the meal that had been meant for the reception and arrange transportation to the hospital for Paul’s immediate family. His mother didn’t require my assistance, but it seemed to calm her. The island staff had been capable of making the arrangements, but not with the speed I could. Quick action sometimes requires instilling urgency in others—and I can do that. Paul’s mother can as well, but she had been torn between her desire to save or strangle her son. Someone needed to remain clear headed. For Isa, I noted that person was Audrey. For Paul—me. “I thought you were having a heart attack.”
He smiles up weakly. “I wish I had been. Who knew a couple of Xanax wouldn’t work as well as Tylenol to cure a hangover.”
I don’t smile.
He shrugs. “Bad joke. Sorry.”
“What were you thinking?”
“I needed to get through the wedding. I knew I fucked up as soon as I got to the altar. My head was spinning. I thought if I explained to Isa I needed a few minutes to pull myself together—”
“I can imagine how that went.”
“She thought I was calling the wedding off. I wasn’t. I swear, this time I wasn’t. I love Isa. She walked off. I followed her. We argued, and I don’t know what happened—everything just kind of went black.”
Audrey was right—this definitely isn’t something I can let slide. He could have died. “Is it worth it, Paul?”
“Isa? Yeah. She’s not talking to me, but yeah, she’s worth it.”
“I’m not talking about Isa—I’m talking about how your life revolves around keeping your mother appeased.”
“This isn’t about. . .” He groans and covers his face with one hand. “I am officially on probation with my mother. You know how she gets when I screw up. I’m cut off until she forgets how humiliating it was to explain my sudden departure to her friends.”
“What if you don’t kiss her ass this time?”
“No Mommy, no money. I’m not proud of that fact, but she has a tight grip on all of my cash.”
“You’d survive.”
He struggles to sit up. “You don’t get it. She controls my trust fund, my bank accounts, everything. I’d be living in my car—wait, I don’t know if there’s a car in my name. I’d be living with you.”
“And?”
“I’m serious, Barrett. I’d have fucking nothing.”
“That’s not true. You have a Harvard education and friends. We’d help you land a job.”
“I’ve never had a job. What would I do? Pump gas?”
I roll my eyes. Starting off there would actually be good for him because he’d learn how to survive on his own. “You’d do what everyone does . . . you’d work your ass off to pay your bills and then you’d figure out how to do better.”
He lies back down. “Without my money I’m no one—no one Isa would want.”
I hate that part of me agrees with him. Strip my success away from me and who am I? Not someone I ever imagined becoming. I don’t know what I thought being at the top would feel like—but it’s surprisingly isolating. I work long days. I don’t have time for friendships or roots. I’m always chasing the next deal, the next win. Expensive shit aside, how is my life better than when I never knew what school I’d end the year at? Now that I can have anything I want—what do I want?
I don’t say any of that, though. I stuff all those questions in a box in my gut and close them away. “If Isa is only with you for your money, you dodged a bullet today.”
“I didn’t—” Paul’s IV jiggles as he rubs a hand over his face. “It’s not Isa who is the problem. It’s me. She always said she doesn’t care about my money, but I don’t know who I am without it. I’m a fucking mess.”
“We’ve been here before, Paul. It’s time to make a change.”
He closes his eyes for a long moment. “What’s it like to be poor?”
I sigh. Paul sounds pretentious, but he’s serious. When I was sleeping in the back of my mom’s car I never imagined I’d feel sorry for someone with money. I do pity Paul, though. He’s never tested himself, so he has no idea what he’s capable of. It’s sad—like seeing a non-muscled lion lying in the sun at the zoo and knowing it could be so much more. “Poverty sucks, but building something on your own doesn’t.” I can’t believe I’m going to fucking say this, but . . . “You always talk about wanting to be happy. Are you? Is this the life you’d choose if you could?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but Mother says it would be a waste of time and would never sell.” He opens his eyes and sits up again. “Maybe it’s time to do something I want to do.”
“Past time.”
“You’ll get me a lawyer if she tries to have me committed?” he jokes.
“The best.”
“One more thing. Isa isn’t talking to me—any chance you could . . .”
“No fucking way.”
“Fair enough.” He rings the buzzer for the nurse. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
I raise a hand to block the view of what he flashes when he throws the sheet back. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Hey, Barrett.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for sticking by me.”
“You’ve been good to a lot of people over the years. Don’t underestimate those connections. Until the dust settles you can stay at my place at Bachelor Tower.”
“Stay with you? I really appreciate it. Sure I won’t cramp your style?”
“I’ll be in a hotel.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Audrey
“Do you want to go back up to see him?” I ask Isa across a small white table in the hospital’s cafeteria. The coffee I downed is churning in my stomach.
She shakes her head and folds a napkin into smaller and smaller triangles. “I should.” She flicks the napkin away and covers her face with her hands. “I don’t know if I can. I feel like such an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, Isa.”
“He medicated himself because he thought it was the only way he could go through with the wedding. What does that tell you?”
I remember what Barrett said about Paul. “That he’s not ready to marry anyone. I know you don’t want to hear it, but maybe it’s better to find this out last minute than after the wedding.”
“You’re right.” She leans forward onto her elbows. “When Paul asked if we could postpone the wedding—I thought he was calling it off. I flipped out. He claims he was asking for some time because his head was dizzy. I don’t know what to believe.”
“Which is understandable.”
“I don’t even know what to tell people. Did I call it off? Did he?”
“You’ll tell your family the truth and everyone
else as little as possible. The ones who love you will respect that—the ones who need the details can kiss your ass.”
She chuckles without much humor. “I want to jump on a plane, go home, and forget about Paul and every moment I spent with him.”
Her tone doesn’t match her claim. “But?”
“I love him, Audrey. What do I do with that? Is it over?”
I swirl coffee around the bottom of my paper cup. “I don’t know.”
“When I saw him drop to the ground, I imagined my life without him in it, and it tore my heart out. I wish you knew him from more than this weekend. He has a better side to him—a sweet, caring side. When it’s just him and me, we’re so happy. It’s only when he gets around his mother that he closes me out and says stupid shit.”
“I don’t have a magic answer, Isa.” I thought about Barrett and what he’d said about not ever wanting to give anyone the power to take him down. “Paul might be a good man and still not be a good choice.” Like Barrett.
She nods sadly. “I gave him back his ring.”
“You did?” In all the chaos I hadn’t noticed the absence of the huge diamond from her finger.
“I tried to talk to him about what happened, but he was more worried about how his mother would react when she arrived than if he’d hurt me. I tossed the ring on his bed and left.”
“I’m so sorry, Isa.”
She sniffs. “You didn’t do anything.”
“No, but I hate that you’re going through this.”
Almost a Wedding Page 7
