Romancing Austin

by Riley Bancroft, Evelyn Berry, Cara Carnes, Jax Garren, Irene Preston, Rebecca Royce, Chandra Ryan

  “You were looking out for me.” She tried to sit but found the cumbersome dress made it too difficult. “Could you give me a hand?”

  Her mom held a hand out to Julie. “I didn’t want you to beg for money from them.” She pulled Julie up and then helped her straighten the layers of material. “But I should’ve known better. You never beg, do you? Not in your genes I suppose. Prescott through and through.”

  Julie turned so her mom could start unbuttoning the dress. She wanted to be out of it more than she wanted to take her next breath. “And Prescotts never beg.” She smiled. “We’re made of tougher stuff than that.” For the first time since she read the horrid text, the world started to make sense again.

  “How are you doing? Really?” Her mom peeled off the dress—letting the foamy layers of lace fall to the floor in a disheveled heap.

  “I’m going to be okay. If he didn’t want to spend his life with me, it’s better I find out now.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I imagine extorting five thousand from his family is far easier than any divorce procedures would’ve been.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  Julie retrieved her jeans and blouse from a nearby chair. “And there would’ve been a divorce.”

  “Probably.”

  She looked at her mom as she slid on her jeans. “He would’ve walked out before our fifth anniversary. He was the leaving kind. I’m glad we hadn’t had any slipups in birth control.” She shuddered as she imagined how much harder a pregnancy would make the already intolerable situation.

  “Small blessing.”

  “We need to count each and every one in times like these.” She slipped on her blouse and then shoved her feet into her shoes.

  “That’s my girl.” Her mom helped her put on her jacket. “It might be difficult for the next couple of weeks. We’re a small community. People are going to look at you differently.”

  Her phone chimed again as another text came through.

  On my way to the airport. Need you to call the travel agent and transfer your ticket to Marcy’s name. No need to waste the honeymoon. I’m going with her.

  She read the message again to make sure she understood, then smiled as a vengeful idea took root in her heart. “It’s okay. I’m not going to be here.”

  “Where are you going to be?”

  “Rodger thinks he can go on our honeymoon with his new love.”

  Her mother grabbed the phone from her. “You’ve got to be kidding. Is there no bounds to his audacity?”

  “Nope. But I’m not going to let him take my trip from me. I’m closer to the airport. And I’ve got the tickets in my purse.”

  “You’re going to go on the honeymoon? By yourself?”

  “It was the one part of the wedding I looked forward to. I’ve always wanted to go to Austin. I’m not going to let him steal it from me.”

  “Then take my car. It’s faster.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” She kissed her mother on the cheek.

  “No thanks needed, dear. Enjoy yourself while you’re there.” Her mom brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

  “I plan on it.”

  She grabbed Julie’s arm again. “I mean it, Julie. Rodger was from a good family, he had a good degree, and he had a good job. On paper, he’s everything you’ve always sought. But you deserve so much more.”

  “I don’t understand.” The constant confusions of the day were starting to give her a headache.

  “You’ve always been a good girl and your father and I were thankful we were never called to the police station at midnight. But sometimes too much of a good thing is bad.”

  “You’re telling me I’ve been too good?” She snorted in disbelief.

  “Not exactly. But maybe it’s time to make a decision because it makes you happy, because it makes you feel good, not because it’s the right choice.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  Her mom’s smile was indulgent. “Maybe not right now. But, hopefully, it will some day.”

  Juliana nodded even though she didn’t believe her. She had a good job, a good degree, and a good life because she always made the right choices. So many of her friends had fallen for the bad boys. They’d surrendered to what felt good only to pay for it later. Their boyfriends had run off with their money and hearts.

  Then again, hadn’t hers done the same? Didn’t that make falling for the good guy as dangerous as loving the bad boy?

  She shook her head. No. Rodger had been a bad boy. But he’d been bad in an untraditional way. He hadn’t been covered in tattoos and run with a dangerous crowd but good guys didn’t pull selfish stunts as her ex-fiancé had. Good guys didn’t break their promises.

  “I’ll have fun, mom. I’ll even try things outside my comfort zone. But I don’t think looking for danger is a good idea.”

  “Just because something is different doesn’t make it dangerous, Julie.” Her mom pressed her car keys into Julie’s palm. “And not everything fun is intrinsically wrong.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I’ve ever asked. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “Now go catch your plane before your bastard of an ex steals it.”

  Juliana smiled. Now that was something she could agree with. “I’ll call you when the plane lands,” she said as she dashed for the door. Rodger had stolen enough from her. He wouldn’t take her honeymoon.

  2

  Luke Sinclair should give his full attention to the band playing on stage. Listening to musicians and finding the next big thing was, after all, his job. But he couldn’t. Not tonight. No matter how hard he tried, he found the young lady sitting across from him far more interesting.

  Which probably tells me all I need to know about the band.

  She was good looking, but pretty girls weren’t exactly a rarity in Austin. And since the festival, South by Southwest, was in full swing, lovely women were a dime a dozen. No, it wasn’t her appearance holding him captive. He couldn’t look away because she seemed to be so removed from the fun going on around her—and not in an arrogant or ironic way. She sat in the middle of the best party of the year, but her attention seemed focused on the table in front of her. With her glazed over eyes, she appeared a thousand miles away. What could be keeping her from engaging in the scene with all the other patrons in the bar?

  Sighing for probably the tenth time, she swirled the amber liquid around in the bottom of her glass. She hadn’t taken a single drink since he’d been watching her. She only played with it. Teased it with the promise of sliding past her full lips and down her slender throat. But in the end she denied the drink as she denied the atmosphere around her.

  When she looked over and caught him staring at her, he stood. He’d obsessed about her long enough. He wasn’t a teenager. He didn’t gawk at women from afar. It was time he introduced himself.

  After grabbing his drink, he made his way over to her table and smiled. “I do believe you’re cheating your drink out of its destiny.”

  Her expression changed from one of melancholy to confusion. “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s not me you should be apologizing to, angel.” He nudged his way between her and the person to her left to sit on the crowded bench next to her. “That poor whiskey is dying to be tasted.”

  She glanced at her drink as if she finally remembered it. “Oh.” She focused her attention on him again. “Wait. How would you know what my whiskey wants?”

  “I happen to have a lot in common with whiskey. We’re spirit brothers.”

  “Are you, now?” She lifted the glass and took a slow sip. “You’re both certainly bold.”

  “Life doesn’t favor the weak.”

  She laughed harshly as she drank what was left of the whiskey in one gulp. “You’re right about that one.”

  “You sound as if you’ve got some experience there.” South by Southwest wasn’t for the weak of heart. It was crowded, hec
tic, and a little wild. In his experience, timid women didn’t choose to sit in the eye of the storm the music festival created.

  “I might.”

  “You don’t strike me as particularly weak. Anybody who can secure herself a table at a bar during South by has got a backbone.”

  “Oh, I can grab a table with the best of them. But life is more than having a comfortable place to sit.”

  “It’s a good place to start, though.” He relaxed when she smiled. “And you’re drinking whiskey. Drink of the brave.”

  “Really?” She glanced at the glass skeptically.

  “It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  She laughed. “I don’t need hair on my chest.”

  “What is it you do need?” Some small part of him hoped she’d say she needed him.

  “A room.”

  Disappointment filled him. Maybe she didn’t feel the attraction as acutely as he. “A room?”

  “Yep. I’ve tried all the hotels I can find. They’re all booked or cost way more than I can afford.”

  “You didn’t think to reserve one before getting here?” Who thought they could drop by South by Southwest and get a room? “I know it’s local, but this little festival of ours is a pretty big deal around here,” he teased.

  “I reserved one. Months ago. My bastard of an ex-fiancé canceled it, though.” She looked at the bar with longing. “His way of getting even with me for taking off with the airplane tickets, I guess.”

  “Ah. I see. Well, if you had to choose between a trip to Austin and a bed to sleep in once you got here, I think you made the right choice.” He motioned for the bartender to bring them another round.

  “Let’s see if I agree with you at two in the morning.” Her smile softened the truth of the words.

  “The party goes around the clock, love.”

  She glanced at the server as another drink was put in front of her. “Wow. I was worried about braving the line again. You must be important.”

  He’d stopped telling women what he did a long time ago. Waking to find the lady gone and a demo on his nightstand wasn’t his idea of the perfect end to an evening. “They like to keep me happy. I’m good for business.”

  “Are you a musician?”

  “Why? Are you looking for a rock star?”

  She laughed. “I’m not sure.”

  “I’m not a musician.”

  She drank the second whiskey in one gulp and said, “Then I’m not looking for one.”

  He gave her a second to press him for more information. When she didn’t, he nodded toward the door. His gut was usually a pretty good judge of character. “You want to get out of here?” His heart stuttered with a momentary fear of rejection when she didn’t answer right away.

  “Sure. My name is Juliana. My friends call me Julie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Julie. I’m Luke. My friends call me Bob.”

  Her burst of laughter eased his nerves. His gut might prove to be wrong but he was glad he’d be able to spend more time with her. He stood and held his hand out to her. But when she didn’t grab it, he sat again. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. No.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you. Maybe I am.”

  The way she nibbled on her bottom lip after she spoke drove him a little crazy so who was he to begrudge her some insanity of her own? “Crazy isn’t always a bad thing, love. Lay it on me.”

  “I do want to get out of here. You’re good looking. And the whiskey has made me all warm and fuzzy.” She took a deep breath before shifting her gaze over his left shoulder.

  “But…?” He could tell an objection was coming.

  “But old habits die hard. Old personalities even harder.”

  He gave her a second to continue but when she didn’t he said, “I’m lost, sweetheart.”

  “I’m not the kind of girl who runs off with strangers.” She blushed the most wonderful shade of pale pink as she spoke. “You seem nice, but how do I know you aren’t a serial killer who turns his victims’ flesh into upholstery?”

  He laughed so hard his entire body shook. “You’ve got quite a vivid imagination.”

  “Or sells their organs on the black market?”

  “I think that’s an urban legend.”

  “Doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.”

  “You’re right to be smart. It can be a dangerous world out there. What can I do to make you feel better?”

  “I don’t know.” She fidgeted in her chair.

  “I’ve got an idea.” He dug his wallet out of his pocket so he could hand her his driver’s license and a credit card. “It’s enough for a hotel, airline, or government agency to trust me. Is it enough for you?”

  “Can I take a picture of the license?”

  Warning bells chimed in his head. He’d had more than one girl decide she liked him after she’d searched his name on the internet. But with Julie’s fears, it’d make perfect sense for her to find out more about him. “Depends on why you want a copy of it. You aren’t going to steal my identity or anything, are you?” He didn’t want to reveal his real reason for the questioning. If she hadn’t thought of researching him, he didn’t want to put the idea in her head.

  “Yeah, because I’m sure I could be mistaken for a six foot tall blond guy with a full beard who wears glasses.” Her laughter made him smile. “No. I wanted to send a copy of it to my mom. So if I go missing…” She turned her head so she faced the bar as she stopped speaking.

  “They know where to start looking for you. Makes sense. Kind of. Go right ahead.”

  After she took a picture of his license and typed a quick email, she pocketed his ID and credit card and took his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “As the lady wishes.”

  The sidewalks were packed, but it was easier to talk once they left the bar. Walking next to her gave him the added benefit of feeling her hip brush against his every third or fourth step. “Are we getting a taxi?” She definitely didn’t know Austin.

  “No need. We’re not going far.” He nodded in the direction they needed to go.

  She followed his gaze, then turned toward him again and said, “So we’re walking?”

  “If you’re wearing comfy shoes. We could take a pedicab if you don’t want to hoof it.”

  “A what?”

  “The bikes with backseats.” He pointed toward one as it rode by. “They’re a lot easier to come by and they move around the crowded streets better than taxis.”

  Her grasp on his hand tightened. “I think I’m good walking. Where are we going?”

  “A party on Third Street.” He sighed as he spoke. There were a thousand places he’d like to take her, especially during South by Southwest. But DBR’s narcissistic salute to himself wasn’t one of them.

  “You sound pretty disappointed for someone going to a party.” She rocked her hips so she bumped into him as they walked.

  “It’s a work thing. Do you know DBR?”

  “Is it a beer?”

  He laughed. “Oh, I like you more and more by the second.”

  “It is a beer? I got it right?” She sounded proud of her guess. He almost hated to burst her bubble.

  “Sorry, love. DBR-Dexter Bryce Reed. He’s a musician.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him.”

  It didn’t seem possible. The guy had so many groupies hanging all over him, Luke had determined every woman on the planet knew and wanted DBR. But, as luck would have it, he’d found the one who didn’t even recognize his name. “See. I like you even more than I did and I thought I liked you as much as humanly possible.”

  “You like me more because I don’t know who he is? Interesting.” She looked both ways before she allowed them to step off the sidewalk to cross the street. “If you don’t like him, why go to his party?”

  “I have to make an appearance.”

  “So you aren’t a musician, but you work in the industry.”

&nbs
p; His stomach tightened with anxiety. “My work would bore you. Let’s talk about you. What is it you do when you’re not jetting off to exotic locations to escape your bastard ex-fiancé?”

  “I wasn’t escaping him. I didn’t want him to take anything else that rightfully belonged to me. And I work for a public relations firm.”

  “Do you design ad campaigns?”

  “I wish. Advertising would be relaxing.”

  “Then what?” He looked at her as they crossed another road to see the 3rd Street sign.

  “I specialize in damage control.” She laughed and then shook her head. “Which will be handy when I get home. I never thought I’d have to spin my own life.”

  His stomach clenched at the acidic tone she took when describing the state of her life. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Yeah. It can. But I’m determined to leave the disaster for another day.” She groaned as they saw the line into the building. “Please tell me we’re not going there.”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s going to take forever to get through the line.”

  His chest fluttered with pride as he guided her past the line to the door. It was a weird sensation. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to show off for a girl. The situation was even odder because he hadn’t told her what he did. But there was no denying it—he wanted her to know he was successful. “You don’t wait in lines when you’re with me.”

  “Yep. Sounds like you have a boring job.” Her voice filled with teasing disbelief as she smiled at him.

  “Okay. So maybe there are some perks.” Once in the elevator he pushed the button for the forty-third floor and then leaned against the polished metal of the wall.

  “So you admit you have a fascinating job?”

  He laughed. “Hardly.”

  “It fascinates me. Bartenders bring you drinks with a wiggle of your finger because you’re good for business and you get to go to the front of the line at incredibly packed rock parties. Parties, which I might add, you don’t want to attend but have to. For your job.”