Ella sighed. At least she had this last memory, the beauty of this place emblazoned on her mind.
“Ella.”
Ella whipped around, fists clenched.
Keeping out of arm’s reach, he pushed his hair off his forehead before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I want... I need to make this up to you.”
“How? You think you can, what, demand others respect me after this? Maybe hire me despite the sheer fuckery this event turned into?” Her harsh laugh scraped her throat raw.
And wasn’t it telling he wanted to fix the business side of things while the personal side was far more devastating? How could he not know?
“I have connections, Ella. I can make people hire you.”
“Make...people...” Against her will and despite her pride, her chin began to wobble. “Make them hire me. Buy my way into good graces with your financial backing.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Then how did you mean it, Liam? Be very clear so I don’t hear the wrong thing. Again.”
“You’re wildly talented. Look at all you did for my sister’s wedding.”
“I nearly killed the groom. That’s a real résumé builder. How much money would it take to hide that little ‘oops’?”
He looked out over the beach, his gaze fixed somewhere near the horizon. “I can’t undo that, but I want you to know I can help you regain what was lost. I can arrange high-profile events, hire you to coordinate them, make sure there’s media coverage and promote the rebuilding of your brand.”
“And what about me, Liam? As an entrepreneur or, better, as a woman? What about my self-respect? My pride at having recovered from being screwed over the first time by my former business partner? My sense of self-worth that people desired my skills, my name on their registry, my vision for their perfect day? How do you propose to buy those back?” she demanded.
“I have resources you can’t imagine. I have contacts with more power and influence than the combined social power of the entire guest list at that rehearsal dinner. I can pave the way for you to reclaim your social status and reassert your position as the elite event planner in more than just LA.” He shifted his gaze to her and threw his hands in the air. “Why is this so hard for you to see?”
“Because what I see is you throwing your name and your influence and your money at a problem thinking you know the best way to fix it. Here’s the thing, Liam. You might be able to buy my way back into society’s good graces. You might even be able to save my business. But you can’t buy my reputation. And if you can’t buy that, you sure as hell can’t buy my pride or my self-worth or my ethics. They were never for sale. Everything I did, I did because I thought it was the right thing to do. You broke that...” She paused and then thought, What the hell, and threw down the truth. He could do with it what he would. “You broke that, Liam, and you broke my heart.”
With that, she turned and walked away from him.
This time, he didn’t follow.
* * *
Liam had always known where he belonged in the grand scheme of things, always knew just what he was supposed to do, who he was supposed to be, how he was supposed to act. From which fork to use at a formal dinner to the right putter on the golf course to the best wine to pair with steak, he knew. But just then, sitting on the beach in his suit pants and his tailored shirt with French cuffs and his polished wing tips, he had no clue what to do. He wouldn’t have been surprised to look in the mirror and find a stranger staring back.
There were so many things he’d planned to say and do, so many ways he was going to make things right, and not a single one would come to pass. Not with Jenna and certainly not with Ella. Both women had made it clear that they were done with the whole debacle. They hadn’t been talking entirely about the wedding, either. They’d been talking about Liam. They were done with him.
The image of Jenna’s hurt but furious face flashed through his mind and was followed immediately by Ella. He remembered everything he’d said and done, from their initial meeting where he’d landed in her lap to the first time he’d kissed her to the first lie he’d told and his moment of conscience when he’d told her not to change the seating charts. Memory after memory flashed through his mind, the more personal ones—the scent of her perfume, the sound of his name sighed across her lips, the feel of her arching beneath his hand, her laugh, the way she looked when she slept—becoming rapid-fire kill shots that left him struggling to breathe. A single truth threaded its way through every interaction, every conversation and every moment he’d spent with her: the way she made him feel.
She’d made him doubt his cynicism and believe that, just maybe, finding his own happily-ever-after was possible.
He’d been such an ass.
“Oh, Leem,” said a soft voice behind him. “What have you done?”
He whirled around and found Jenna standing there, the sun beginning to stain the darkness with dawn’s light. Jenna, the sister he loved to the ends of the earth.
“Jenna. I’m so sorry.” His voice broke on the last word, a word he couldn’t remember offering to anyone before.
She crossed the sand and, in seconds, held him in her embrace. So huge, so all-encompassing for such a pixie of a woman. Arms tight around his waist and cheek against his chest, she spoke low but with undeniable fervor. “You really screwed up.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Ella?”
His entire body twitched in her embrace, but she didn’t let go.
“I thought so.” A smile lurked in her voice and he wanted to chastise her for relishing his defeat, but he’d earned her scorn. Then she surprised him by hugging him impossibly tighter. “You know, I still love the pudding out of you, but you really screwed up.”
“I did,” he admitted, breathing easier at her reassurance. “And with a self-righteous vigor reserved for few of my ilk.”
She tilted her head back and considered him. “Your ilk?”
“I’m a capital ass, Jenna.”
She smiled beatifically. “You so are.”
Something in him—the fear he’d lost her—suddenly eased. She would forgive him. And somehow, some way, he would earn her trust as well as her respect again.
Jenna let him go and stepped back. “What happened?”
He’d always been there for his sister, always been her sounding board and confidant, but he’d never confided in her, thinking it was a show of weakness. Not anymore. So Liam did something he’d never done before: he told her everything. Too much, probably, if some of her reactions and the repeated “TMI” were any indication.
Jenna sat on the sand halfway through his story, listening and watching him pace. When he stopped speaking and went still, she popped back to her feet. “So, do you love her?”
He started to deny the emotion out of habit, but her stern look stopped him and he answered the only way he could. “I... How do I know? For sure, I mean.”
“Nothing’s guaranteed, Liam. Not even love. You have to take a chance.”
“I deal in statistical probabilities and historical trends, not chance.”
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You and that ilk thing. Cut your crap.” She took both of his hands and stared up at him. “There are a hundred, a thousand questions I could ask you—does she make your breath come short? Do you relax, really relax, around her? Do you feel like you could tell her anything? Do you trust her? Do you love waking up to her face? Do you miss her the minute she begins to walk away? They’re all valid, Liam, but there’s only one question that really matters.”
He waited.
“If she walks out of your life, walks out and never comes back, will you be a better man or a broken man?”
“Broken,” he whispered.
“There’s your answer.” Jenna smiled, her true smile. “No matter what you th
ink of Mike, I am crazy in love with that man. Your opinion—the world’s opinion—will never change that for me. He’s my One, capital O. I would give up everything for him, Liam, and he’d do the same for me. The beautiful thing, though? Love doesn’t mean losing one thing to gain another. It’s gaining something that enhances everything else in your life. There are compromises, yes,” she said, one hand waving those invisible compromises off like they were a swarm of gnats. “But compromise isn’t loss, either. It’s just bending what you want to make it suit two lives instead of one. Only a fool would miss his shot at his one, Leem, and you’re no fool.”
He pulled her back in for a tight hug. “I’ve been exactly that.”
“You’ve certainly been foolish,” she admonished, her words a bit warped as he had her face mashed into his chest. “But a fool? You’re a Baggett, dear brother. Dad neither raised nor tolerated fools within his clan.”
Only Jenna would call the elder Baggett “Dad.” The thought made Liam smile, an action not at all common when remembering the old man. “Just so.”
“Mike and I got married.”
He stiffened. “Beg your pardon?”
“In the hospital. Ella showed up with a beautiful bridal bouquet, my dress, his tux jacket and the rings. I guess she got some guy named Arvin out of bed in the middle of the night and got our stuff together. She made my bouquet.” Jenna pulled her phone out of her little handbag and showed Liam pictures. “She asked us if what we had was worth fighting for—no matter who fought against us.” She looked up. “Ella so meant you, Liam.”
“I got that.” His tone was dry as dust.
“Just making sure you’re keeping up. Anyway,” she continued, “she asked us and we both said yes. She’d asked the doctor about Mike’s possible release and they’re keeping him for at least twenty-four hours of observation, so he wouldn’t have been out in time for the wedding. So she said we should get married by the hospital chaplain and then show up, after they let Mike go, for the wedding dinner and share the good news that way.” She grinned. “She repeated something Mike had said about how it couldn’t be all that bad if he left here married to me, so she made it happen.” Jenna sighed. “She’s a total romantic, and the ceremony was beautiful and we had Mike’s doctor give me away and the charge nurse was my maid of honor. It was lovely.”
“You got married...in a hospital?” he choked out.
“Like you gave me any other option,” she retorted.
And he shut up.
“Don’t let her go, Liam. Please. I’m going to tell everyone what happened and encourage my agency and my studio to use her for events. I’m going to ask my friends to use her. Whatever it takes, I want to help her get back on track. But most of all? I don’t want you two to lose each other. Please.”
Liam nodded, his vision watery with what he deemed gratitude. “Where is she?”
The sun had long since cleared the horizon and begun to warm the day. “I think she was going to catch the first available flight to the main island and head home from there.” She glanced at her watch. “If you hurry—”
“I’ll catch her,” he said. He kissed Jenna’s cheek. “I love you, Jen.”
“And I you, Leem.” She beamed up at him. “Go get your one.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ELLA STOOD IN line waiting to board the tiny puddle jumper for the first of four flights she’d take to get home. Professionally, she’d done what she could to pull a rabbit out of the hat and save the wedding. At first, Jenna had been unsure of Ella’s plan to have them married at the hospital. Sure, it had been a long shot. But no shot will make it if you don’t take it. Her dad’s words had marched around inside Ella’s head as she pulled things together and took the shuttle to the hospital. They hadn’t even faltered at Jenna’s reserved greeting. But when Mike had looked at Jenna, motioned her over and said, “Be my wife. Now and always,” Ella had wanted to melt and pump a fist in the air.
The ceremony had been short but sweet, and it had been evident how in love the bride and groom were. Whatever came their way, they’d handle it. And provided Mike continued to improve, there would be one hell of a reception on the beach tonight. Thanks to Arvin, there would be no shellfish anywhere near the food, and he and his team would be following the original plans, save one thing. The bride and groom had thought it was kind of cool to have the sports drinks incorporated—despite their garish color. So those would stay, just not on the table. They’d be going home in everyone’s swag bags.
The door to the plane opened, and the pilot stepped out onto the boarding ladder clipped to the side of the plane. “Good morning! This is flight one-nine-one-Alpha-Tango-Delta that will take you to the main island. It’s a forty-minute trip from takeoff to touchdown. Welcome aboard.”
Ella climbed the steps and shoved her suitcase in the small overhead bin. It barely fit, and she had to wrestle it into place. She’d probably never get the damn thing out. Figured. If she could just get home... She’d deal with the fallout there.
Her phone chimed, and she checked it, froze and blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. It was a request from Jenna to coordinate her and Mike’s reception in Hollywood. They’d decided to throw a big party once they were back from their honeymoon and sell the photos, with the proceeds going to their favorite environmental charity. A second email followed, this one from Jenna’s studio, asking Ella to coordinate a small, intimate event where well-wishers from the studio could congratulate the bride and groom. The initial guest list of seventy-five people made Ella light-headed. The budget forced her to drop into her seat like her ass was made of granite.
Whatever was happening, it was like karma had finally decided Ella deserved a little recognition and had upped the wattage to “spotlight.” Jenna had sent the kindest thank-you note for their ceremony and said she hoped Ella would meet her for lunch to discuss the reception as soon as Jenna was back in town.
Ella tried to type a response, but her fingers shook so badly that what came out was something not even autocorrect could untangle. She tucked her phone away, determined to answer when the plane set down at the international concourse on the main island. She had a three-hour layover anyway. Plenty of time to get her nerves under control.
The door to the plane closed, the engines started and the noise echoed around inside the hollow pit in Ella’s stomach. No matter how far Jenna’s request went toward soothing Ella’s fear she’d never work again, there was still the matter of Liam. The pain of losing him was far worse than she’d ever imagined it could be. It made little sense that she’d fallen for him so hard and fast. But it simply was what it was. She was sure she’d recover, but she’d have felt much better if she had a timeline. Right now it felt like it would be years before she could even stomach the idea of drinks with a stranger. She would simply have to fight her way back to her old self. Period.
“Even if it kills me a little bit each day,” she murmured.
The plane taxied away from the tiny terminal, bouncing around as it crossed the cracked and broken asphalt that led to the slightly more even runway.
Ella closed her eyes and let her head rest against the seat back, the dull roar of the engines fueling a burgeoning headache. She was so tired. Maybe she’d be able to get some sleep, if not now then certainly on the next flight to Honolulu.
The engines powered down at the same time the pilot’s voice came over the speaker system. “Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a slight delay in our departure. We’ll be returning to the gate for a moment to resolve an outstanding issue and then we’ll be on our way.”
Grumbles and protests were soft, subtle.
Ella sat up, rubbing her temple. The plane came to a stop and the pilot emerged, opened the door and said something to someone outside.
“I’d come back for a piece of that pie,” a woman murmured.
Something stirred in Ella’s
belly, something suspiciously similar to hope.
The pilot stepped back into the cockpit, leaving plenty of room for Liam to enter the cabin.
Ella stared at him, dumbfounded. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He came toward her, movements lithe despite the cabin’s tiny confines. “We’re not done here, Ella.”
“I am.”
He stopped beside her seat, deep brown eyes meeting hers with an unfamiliar somberness. “If you really mean that, I’ll get off this plane. I’d ask that you hear me out first.”
Ella looked around. “Here?”
“Here,” someone called out from farther back.
“Then here it is,” Liam replied. “I’m an ass.”
“News flash,” Ella muttered. “You forgot a few adjectives, mostly controlling, superior, vain, boorish, arrogant, egotistical, conceited, self-important. Should I go on?”
“No need, seeing as I agree with everything you’ve said.” Liam closed his eyes and took one deep breath, two, three, as he seemed to search for words. Finally, he opened his eyes and focused on her with an intensity that kept her silent. “It’s become clear to me that I’m a rather self-righteous jackass who, until recently, operated on the assumption that I knew what was best for everyone.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to respond. “Please. I’d like to get this out before I lose my nerve.”
“You never lose your nerve,” she whispered.
He traced a finger along her jaw. “I’ve never had something I was so scared to lose.”
She couldn’t speak, could only nod and pray that he didn’t expect more from her.
“I have made mistakes in life, the most egregious ones this week. But if I let you leave this island without hearing how I feel about you—about us—it will be the biggest mistake I’ll ever make. You see, I’ve always chosen duty over desire. It was the Baggett way. Emotions weren’t a factor when one had to make a choice. Baggett men did what they were conditioned to do.”
Wicked Heat Page 15
