It would never work between them; she knew that now. It was a pipe dream, a fantasy that lasted only while he was playing the role of the adoring, doting boyfriend.
Her fingers went to her throat and sought out the opal necklace. She’d worn it nearly every moment since he bought it for her. She loved it. But it was time to take it off. She unlatched the clasp and let it pool in her hand. Looking down at the beautiful, ruined necklace, she opened her desk drawer and dropped it in with her pens and paper clips.
That done, Gretchen picked up the box of paper products and carried them out of her office. She quickly divided them up among the chapel, the entryway table and the ballroom.
The ballroom was still bare bones. This weekend’s wedding was smaller and far less grand compared to Murray and Kelly’s event, but there was still plenty to be done.
“Gretchen?”
Gretchen set down the programs and turned to find Natalie in the doorway behind her. “Hey.”
“The linen delivery is here. Do you need help?”
She shrugged. “Sure, if you’ve got time.”
Natalie nodded and they both went to the back to get the cleaned, pressed linens from the delivery truck. They rolled the cart back into the ballroom and Gretchen started laying them out on the tables. She could tell Natalie was lingering purposely, but she wasn’t about to start the conversation she was dreading.
Her coworker joined her in laying out linens, this wedding using a chocolate brown with an ivory-and-gold lace overlay. After a minute, Natalie said in a quiet voice, “Are you okay?”
Gretchen sighed and finished spreading out the tablecloth. “No, but I’m getting there.”
Natalie nodded. The wedding planner at From This Moment was the quiet, observant type. She did a lot of listening, both in her job and in her daily life, something most people didn’t really do. By listening, she noticed a lot, most importantly what people weren’t saying.
“How long do you think I have before Bree and Amelia will try to fix me up with someone else?” Gretchen had hoped that losing her virginity would take that pressure off her friends and their quest to get her a man, but she doubted that would be the case. With that sexual burden gone, they could just hunt down a normal guy for her, not some superhero worthy of her first time.
“I think you’re safe through the holidays. It’s too busy a time to try fixing someone up, although I wouldn’t put it past Amelia to throw a Christmas party at her house and casually try introducing you to a couple single guys while you’re there.”
Gretchen could handle some awkward conversations at a party. That gave her a few weeks at least. She always liked Christmas, so having that distraction would keep her busy. She’d just have to be super careful about how many sugar cookies she consumed. She didn’t need these twenty extra pounds turning into twenty-five.
“You could always take a page out of my book and go into holiday hibernation. Don’t surface until the New Year’s Eve hangovers fade away.”
Gretchen had too much family for that, as nice as it might sound. Natalie was different; she had divorced parents and a general disdain for the holidays, so it was easier to fade away for a week or so. “Not everyone hates Christmas, Natalie. I can deal with the matchmaking as long as all the holiday festivities distract me.”
“Maybe you should take some of that money and go on a little trip. You don’t have enough time for Italy, but what about New York City or Vegas?”
Gretchen chuckled. “After what happened to Amelia in Vegas? No, thanks.”
“I doubt you’ll elope while you’re there. But maybe you’ll meet a hot distraction and spend some time catching up on all those vices you’ve missed out on.”
Gretchen eased down into one of the chairs and shook her head. “I don’t think I can spend any of that money. It feels...tainted somehow.”
“What about Italy?”
“I’ll get there someday. Just not any time soon. If I go now, all I’ll see is old ruins and shells of what was. But if I wait long enough, maybe I can go with a man that loves me and I’ll be able to see the beauty in it again. That would make the trip better, don’t you think?”
Natalie smoothed out the fabric in front of her. “It sounds nice,” she said with a noncommittal tone. Natalie was nearly as enthusiastic about love as she was about Christmas.
“If this last week taught me anything, it’s that I’m worth more than I think. I just need the confidence to put myself out there and maybe I can have a healthy relationship with a normal guy.”
“Absolutely,” Natalie agreed. She came over and knelt beside Gretchen, giving her a comforting side hug. “You’ll find someone if you want to. You can do anything you want to.”
Gretchen had said the words, but she didn’t entirely believe them yet. Not even Natalie’s assurances convinced her, but she would try. She wouldn’t let her heart be trampled on by someone like Julian. She’d just reached too high, like Icarus, and crashed to the ground. If she’d opted to date someone safer, it might not have hurt as much to fall.
“Thanks, Natalie.”
“I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes, but I’ll try to check back and help you later.”
Gretchen waved as Natalie slipped out of the ballroom. She watched her go and let her gaze drop into her lap. She would go to Italy someday, she knew that. But she wouldn’t do it with the money Julian gave to her. He thought she was a sellout, and if she spent it, maybe she was.
Getting up, she went into her office and sat down at her desk. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out her purse. Inside, she could see the thick wad of cash she’d stashed there in an envelope. She felt ridiculous walking around with ten grand in her bag, but it was all she could do until she made her decision.
Bree insisted that she go to Italy and drown her sorrows in a hot Italian lover. Amelia suggested that she mail it back to him if it bothered her to keep it and take her trip. While the idea of sipping prosecco in Capri as a sexy man who spoke very little English rubbed suntan lotion on her body seemed nice, she knew she couldn’t do it. But sending it back would likely result in Julian rejecting the delivery, and she’d never get rid of the money.
That left a third option—to do something positive with the money, so no matter what, some good would come from the whole thing. If Gretchen did something worthwhile with the money, maybe it would purify it somehow. Make the past week have purpose. Julian might think she was a sneaky liar willing to sell him out, but nothing could be further from the truth. There was one way to make sure he knew it, too.
Logging on to her computer, she looked up the website for the Cerebral Palsy Foundation. With just a few clicks she found what she was looking for—a solution and a little peace of mind. All she had to do was deposit the money in her account and put the wheels in motion.
She might not get to go to Italy, but she would get the final word.
* * *
This script sucked. Julian could barely stand to continue reading the crap that Ross had couriered over this afternoon. It made Bombs of Fury look like Shakespeare.
A week ago, he would’ve accepted the offer without question, but that was before Gretchen had gotten under his skin. She’d planted those seeds of hope that he could have a serious acting career, then turned around and poured gasoline on the buds as they broke through the earth. Ross and his publicist were already scrambling to shift attention away from James and find a way to suppress the story without making it look as if Julian was embarrassed of his brother. He was anything but. He just didn’t want press camped outside the Hawthorne Community or reporters pressing Julian for a sob story. He’d already gotten a call from Oprah to share his secret pain.
Despite Ross’s assurances that it was the right path to take, Julian didn’t want to share his secret pain. He wanted to keep his brother out of the spotlight,
and he’d failed when he’d spilled his guts to Gretchen. He’d trusted her. Those big brown eyes had pleaded with him to confide in her. Then she’d turned around and stabbed him in the back just like all the others. He still couldn’t quite believe it.
He tossed the offensive script onto the kitchen table and shook his head. He’d do it. He knew he would. But he’d loathe himself even more than he already did. Getting up from the table, he planned to march into the kitchen and make himself a stiff drink when he heard the sound of footsteps on the tile of the entryway.
No one was in the house but Julian. Before he could react, the intruder sauntered around the corner in a crop top and a pair of yoga pants. Bridgette.
“What the hell? How did you get in here?” Julian clenched his teeth at her bold move.
“I still have a key,” she said, swinging her blond ponytail over her shoulder and smiling at him with a sweetness he didn’t trust. She held up a bundle of letters in her hand and set them on the counter. “I brought in your mail. I came by because I heard you were back from the wedding and I wanted to see you.”
She took a step toward him, but Julian stepped backward. He didn’t like this. Bridgette was far too calculating to just pop in to be sociable. “Why?”
Bridgette pouted, her collagen-plumped bottom lip thrusting out. “Because I miss you, Julian. These last few weeks have been really hard on me.”
“We broke up six months ago. Last I saw, you had your tongue down Paul’s throat. You didn’t seem like you were suffering to me.”
She frowned, but the movement didn’t translate to a furrowed brow because of all the Botox she injected. “I was using Paul as a rebound. I was just trying to get over you, and it didn’t work. When I saw those pictures of you and that fat girl, my heart nearly broke. I—”
“Stop,” he interrupted, holding up his hand. Julian might be upset with Gretchen, but he wasn’t going to let anyone else tear her down. He’d lied when he said she hadn’t meant anything to him. It hadn’t been acting, but it was the best thing to say. It convinced her, and him, that there was nothing to fight for. But despite all that, she still meant something to him. More than Bridgette ever had. “Gretchen is a beautiful, smart, sensitive woman that I cared about quite a bit. Be respectful of her or leave.” He preferred she just leave, but he doubted he’d get rid of her that easily.
“Cared for her?” Bridgette whined. “You barely knew her. She must’ve worked hard to get her hooks into you that quickly. I could tell she was up to no good. I knew I had to find a way to get you back.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Gretchen didn’t have hooks, much less ones in me. And even if she did, I don’t need you to save me. If the choice were between the two of you, Gretchen would win.” Even with the media leak and the lies, she was more genuine than Bridgette. In fact, that kind of thing was what he would’ve expected from his ex, which was why he’d never so much as breathed James’s name in her presence.
“How could you still think that way about her after what she did? Selling the story about your brother to the press is just unforgivable.”
Julian was about to argue with her when he stopped short. The article never mentioned the source for the story. Even if Bridgette had read the magazine from cover to cover, why would she presume that Gretchen had been the one to spill the news? How could she even know that Gretchen had knowledge of James to begin with? There was only one good reason for that.
“You did it.” The sudden realization made his heart drop into his stomach with a nauseating thud.
Bridgette eyed him, a practiced look of vague innocence on her face. “I did what?” she asked with all the sweetness she could muster.
He didn’t know how she’d dug up the truth, but he knew down to the depths of his soul that Bridgette had been the one to betray him. “You’re the one that leaked the story about my brother.”
“Me? How could I do that when I didn’t know you had a brother? You never mentioned him or anything else about your family to me. I read about it in the gossip pages just like everyone else.”
“No. You did this.” Julian wasn’t about to fall for her protests; they were far too polished. She was an actress, after all. “There’s no way you could know that I’d blamed Gretchen for leaking the story unless you’d deliberately set it up to look that way. You got so jealous you did it deliberately to break up Gretchen and me. Admit it, or I’ll track down the journalist and find out for myself. And if it was you, and you lied to me, every secret you’ve ever told me will be front-page news.”
Bridgette’s mouth dropped open, her eyes darting around the room in a panic. Nothing here was going to help her now, unless she was willing to bludgeon him with the ceramic jar on the countertop.
“I had to,” she admitted at last. “It was the only way to get you away from Thunder Thighs. I had a detective following you in Nashville. I’d hired him just to keep tabs on you and get a feel for whether or not we had a chance to reconcile. Then he tailed you to Louisville and uncovered the truth about your brother. I wouldn’t have said a word about it, but then I realized that you took her with you. You’d never said a word about James to me in over a year together and yet you took her to meet him. I was devastated, Julian. I didn’t know what to do. I thought if the story leaked, you’d blame her and come home so distraught I could comfort you and we’d get back together.”
Bridgette was crazier than even he gave her credit for. “You plan is flawed, Bridgette. I did blame her and I did come home distraught, but I don’t want you to comfort me. I want you to go away.”
“Please, Julian. We could be a Hollywood power couple. Admit it, we just make sense together. A heck of a lot more sense than you and the pudgy artist.”
“Get out!” he roared, his anger turning on like the flick of a switch. He wasn’t going to have her in his presence insulting the woman he loved for one more minute.
“Julian, I—”
Julian lunged forward and snatched his house keys out of her hand. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice. “Get out before I call the cops and the press so they can photograph you getting arrested for trespassing.”
Her eyes widened. He could tell she was trying to figure if he was bluffing or not. After a moment, she decided not to press her luck. Flinging her hair defiantly over her shoulder, she spun on her heel and marched down the hallway, proudly displaying the word JUICY in big letters across her rear end. Julian watched as she opened the front door and looked back at him. “You’ll regret losing me one day, Julian.”
Instead of responding, he waved his fingers in a happy dismissal. She stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her. Julian followed her path down the hallway, flipping the dead bolt and arming the perimeter alarm system in case she tried to sneak back in and boil a rabbit or something.
With a heavy sigh of relief, he traveled back to the kitchen. He tossed the keys down by the stack of mail and started sorting through the letters that Bridgette had no doubt snooped through before bringing them inside. The last letter in the stack had the logo of the Cerebral Palsy Foundation on the front.
Setting the rest aside, he opened the envelope. It was a letter informing him that an anonymous donation had been made to the foundation in his and James’s names. That brought a smile to his face. Perhaps having James’s story hit the news wasn’t bad after all. Now that it was done, perhaps being vocal about it would bring some much-needed attention to the cause. The foundation had even featured a story about them on the site with the link to donate to the cause in their name. If someone had seen the story and made a donation because of it, perhaps it was worth the angst that came along with it.
Turning to the next page, he saw that the amount donated was ten thousand dollars. That was no paltry donation. His eyes remained glued to the number, a nagging feeling prickling at the back of his neck.
Ten thousand dollars. That was exactly how much he’d left in cash for Gretchen when he’d stormed out. She’d said she didn’t want his money, but he’d forced it on her. Was this her way of giving the money back and proving she was the bigger person at the same time?
Julian suddenly felt weak in the knees. He wasn’t used to experiencing that feeling outside of the gym. He slumped down onto a stool at the kitchen counter and looked over the letter again. The timing was far too perfect for it to be from anyone else.
He was a jerk. He knew that now. The only reason she’d gotten involved in this whole mess was because she’d wanted to take that money and go to Italy. All the drama and the heartache were for nothing. She’d handed the money away along with her dream.
Julian dropped the letter onto the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. Gretchen was the only person in his life who didn’t want or need anything from him but his love and his trust. Without realizing the depths of his feelings for her, he’d given her both, then snatched them away, accusing her of terrible things and throwing cash at her as he left as though she were a common whore.
Picking up his phone, he dialed his travel agent. He didn’t stop to think or worry about what Ross would say. He didn’t care. All Julian knew was that he needed to get back to Nashville as soon as possible.
Once his arrangements were made, he started to formulate the rest of his plan. There were several hours before his flight, and he needed to make some important stops on the way to LAX.
He just prayed it wasn’t too late to make this right.
Twelve
The red-eye from Los Angeles landed Julian back in Nashville around sunrise on Saturday morning. He grabbed his rental car and tore off in the direction of the chapel.
He was expecting the place to be mostly empty given that it was just past 7:00 a.m., but the lot was filled with vans and trucks with vendor logos on the side. Wedding preparation apparently started early. Among them was Gretchen’s green sedan.
One Week with the Best Man: Reclaimed by the Rancher Page 14
