by Holly Hart
I’m so consumed by the emotions swirling through me and pondering the best way to handle them, I don’t notice the figure standing in the vestibule, or the reaction the wedding guests have as he makes his way down the aisle.
The first inclination I have that something’s wrong is when slow, deliberate clapping reaches my ears.
“Well, it looks like my invitation to this little party got lost in the mail. Too bad, ‘cause I do love a good party, but at least it seems l made it here for the final act.”
The voice, which sounds just like my own, sends a fission of nervous energy racing down my spine. I turn away from the altar, instinctively angling my body so that Caitlin is behind me.
My eyes clash with a pair of familiar Caribbean-blue ones. I surge with anger that my brother has the nerve to ruin the most perfect day of my life. My tongue spits with barely repressed anger.
“Hello, Evan. Seems the rumors are true. They did set you loose.”
85
Jeremy
Evan cocks his head to the side, looking over my shoulder at Caitlin. A cold smile twists his lips.
“Congratulations,” he says in the cocky tone I’ve hated since I was a child. “Welcome to the family. And speaking of family, dear, are you in the family way? Or is this marriage really a product of true love?”
Anger burns inside my chest. There was a small part of me that hoped that his time in prison had changed Evan, taught him a little humility and humanity, done something to make him want to improve his life. Looking at him now, I can see I wasted my energy.
Evan’s the same cold, egotistical bastard he always was. The only thing that seems different is that he is either no longer able to or wants to hide his true nature behind a thin veneer of civility.
His blue eyes clash with mine and I brace myself, preparing to engage in the same battle we’ve been locked in since we were young boys. The problem is that just like then, I have no idea what the fight is about. It’s like Evan was born hating me and simply decided at a young age to do everything in his power to make my life a living hell.
Evan takes two steps forward, coming close enough to touch me. Storm clouds rage in his eyes. For a second I think he’s going to take a swing and try to predict when the blow will come and from what direction. But, instead of trying to land a punch, Evan sidesteps me so that he’s face to face with Caitlin.
My hands clench at my side. Evan won’t harm her physically, at least not here, not now, but I can’t help but remember how the sweet girl he dated briefly in high school, Kimberly Wallace, came to school one morning with a shiner. The day after she’d been out on a date with Evan. She never told anyone how she got hurt, but I’ve always wondered.
I step in close to my wife and loop a protective arm around her waist, partly to ensure that we present a united front and partly so I can pull her away from Evan if I have to.
His eyes follow the gesture and a muscle on the side of his jaw jumps.
He turns his attention to Caitlin, studying her. “My, my, my,” he breathes out. “You managed to land yourself a real looker, didn’t you? Of course, you and I both know that with our looks, women have always found us irresistible. Now that you’re president of Caldwell Industries and one of the richest men in the world, that just makes them throw themselves at you, doesn’t it?”
Evan crosses his arms over his chest and rocks back onto his heels, his expression growing both pensive and restless.
“Brother, I don’t know how you were able to choose just one, the one you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. When I was in your shoes, I know I found it was rather like living in a giant candy box, and each treat tasted better than the last. Of course you were always more decisive than me, weren’t you?“
He leans closer to Caitlin and lowers his voice. Not because he doesn’t want to be heard, but because he wants his next words to really sink in. “And you, someone mentioned that you’re a florist, that you own your own shop. I can’t imagine that’s easy, but I bet the fact that you’re marrying the richest man in the state will make all those troubles go away. Some people will tell you that money doesn’t buy happiness, but I think that both you and I know that it does wonders for paving the way. Don’t you agree?”
Caitlin rolls her eyes up toward me. I give her a reassuring squeeze. I’ve seen Evan do this spiel before and, in those cases, it’s been effective.
Evan’s attempting to drive a wedge between us. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched him do this kind of thing in the past. There was a time when I thought his lack of subtlety as he pitted two people against one another was crazy, but now I know better. It is almost like his bluntness adds credibility to his words.
But just because something’s been effective in the past, it doesn’t mean the same approach will work each and every time. I’m determined that this will be one of Evan’s failures. Not only do Caitlin and I have a clear contract that states what will and won’t happen while we’re married, as well as a long list of consequences if we slip up, we both went into this marriage knowing what we want … need from one another.
The only complication is that I went and fell in love with her. I’m not sure how either one of us is going to handle that issue, though I’m hoping for the best.
Hate and satisfaction, and something else, something that looks just a little bit like desperation, twine together in Evan’s eyes as he casts one last glance my way before turning his attention to our wedding guests.
My intestines twist themselves into nervous knots. I know that Caitlin and I can handle anything he tries to throw our way, but I’m not as confident about our guests. Evan’s clever. There’s no doubt in my mind that if he wants to, he can find the perfect combination of words that will pit Caitlin’s and my friends against one another.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Evan calls out. He throws his arms wide, as if he’s a circus announcer calling the next act to the center stage. “You’ll be pleased to know that Jeremy and … his new florist bride aren’t the only happy couple here today. I want to take this moment to introduce you to my future bride, Sheila. Baby doll, why don’t you come on up so all these nice people can get a good look at you?”
No one stirs.
“Sheila.” Now there’s an edge to Evan’s voice. He hates defiance of any kind. “Now, baby doll.”
Another long moment passes before a lone woman near the middle of the church slowly stands up. Caitlin gasps.
It takes me only a second to put a memory to the face. This was the woman who caught Caitlin and me right after we’d made love in a maintenance closet. When she saw me, she behaved like a scared rabbit. If she hadn’t looked into my eyes, she probably thought I was Evan, and since I was there with Caitlin, didn’t have a clue how to respond. A panicked retreat probably seemed like her only option.
“There’s my girl,” Evan purrs, his eyes holding her gaze. “Sheila, why don’t you get your cute ass up here so we can have a few words with the preacher man?”
Looking like she’d rather accept an invitation to her own funeral, Sheila slowly makes her way to the altar. Evan grabs her hand, holding it so tightly her bones seem to grind together. She winces but doesn’t whisper a word of complaint.
“Sheila was one of the nurses at the prison. I took one look at her and knew I wanted her for my very own. So, now that I’m a free man, I figure we might as well get hitched. Didn’t know that she was a friend of yours. You’ll have to tell me about the connection someday.” Using his grip on her hand, he pulls Sheila in close to him as he turns to the minister. “So what do you say? Want to help us with our vows and turn this into a double wedding?”
Confused, the minister looks at all of us, taking in our tension. “Well,” he finally says, drawing out the word. “I certainly wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you want.” His gaze falls on Sheila as he says this last bit. She lowers her head and studies the toes of her shoes. “Do you have a license?”
Evan’s br
ows slide upwards. “A what?”
“A marriage license? Without it, I can’t declare you husband and wife.”
Evan’s jaw clenches as he absorbs this news. “No, we don’t have one of those.”
“They’re not hard to obtain. Once you do, let me know and I’ll happily conduct the ceremony.”
“All right. I’ll do that. Come on, baby doll, it looks like we’ve got some paperwork to complete.” Evan steps up close to me, dragging Sheila with him. “Just so you know, brother. I don’t know about you and your pretty little bride, but Sheila and I have been going at it for months. The odds are good that she’s already pregnant, and even if she’s not, she will be before long. And you can rest assured, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my child is born before yours. Do you understand me?”
Icy fear arrows through me. Evan has always been cruel and calculating, but looking into his eyes now, I can clearly see the desperation as well as just a hint of madness. There’s no doubt in my mind that he means every single word he says.
But that’s not my biggest problem.
My biggest problem is what I’m going to do about it.
86
Caitlin
The rumble of the apartment building elevator proceeds the click of the front door opening and closing behind Jeremy.
Toenails rattle against the hardwood floor as Kahn, the massive dog we officially adopted just before our wedding ceremony, hurries to greet him.
“And how’s my good boy today?” I hear Jeremy ask the dog. In my mind’s eye I picture him bending low, engaging the massive dog the vet estimates to be about a year and a half old in a mild wrestling match, as is their custom every time Jeremy comes home. It is part of the evening’s natural patter now. Just the way it goes.
It’s strange. We’ve only been married three weeks, but already Jeremy and I have settled into an easy routine. Each morning we get up, shower together, and grab a quick breakfast before he heads out to Caldwell Industries and I go to my florist shop. I get home—it still seems strange to think of his apartment as my home—about a half hour before he does and start dinner. We spend the rest of the evening talking, watching television, and playing with Sasha and Kahn. It’s simple and wonderful. I love it.
Now I’m about to throw a huge monkey wrench into everything.
Nerves dancing, I make my way from the bedroom to the living room. Sure enough, Kahn and Jeremy are on the floor, each trying to get the other in a headlock – or a wet mouth lock, in Kahn’s case – neither caring that Jeremy’s expensive suit is now wrinkled and covered in dog hair. The dry cleaners are going to have a fit when they get the next batch.
Sasha sits on the couch, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth, an annoyed expression on her scarred face. Since Kahn’s come to live with us, she’s been acting put out. I believed her until the other day, when I came home and found her cuddled up beside him on his bed. She might not be thrilled about having to share her home and Jeremy, but she’s learning to adapt.
Sensing my presence, Jeremy looks up, his gaze capturing mine.
“Hey, you.” His warm voice never fails to make my heart melt just a little bit.
“Hey, yourself. Anything exciting happen to you today?” The question is another part of our little routine.
Some of the light in Jeremy’s eyes fades and his mouth flattens. He ruffles Kahn’s ears, causing the dog to happily kick out with both his hind feet, and slowly climbs to his feet. “I’ve had better days.”
“Uh oh. That sounds ominous.” I walk to the sideboard and pull down a shot glass and Jeremy’s favorite whiskey bottle. “One finger or two?”
“Two. It was definitely a two-finger kind of day.”
I finish pouring and hand the shot glass to him. “What happened?”
“Evan came into the office.”
That’s nothing new. Since he was released, Evan has been at Caldwell Industries every single day. Making sure that everyone knows he’s back and that he’s determined to be part of the operation again. When I spoke to my Aunt Janet the other day, she told me that even though Evan hasn’t actually done anything, he has had the entire place in an uproar, that he seems bent on going to one department after another and stirring the pot. She told me that Jeremy was spending more time soothing ruffled feathers than getting any actual work done.
“What did he do now?” I ask.
Blowing out a heavy sigh, Jeremy sits on the couch. I settle next to him, my head automatically falling against his shoulder as Khan lays on the floor by his feet. Sasha turns up her nose at all three of us.
“I have no idea. He was there before anyone else this morning, and as soon as the accounting department turned on their computers, everything went wrong. They’d been hit by some type of virus that wiped all of their hard drives. Luckily everything was backed up to a cloud server, but no one dares access them until we know what the hell happened to the computers in the first place.”
Jeremy’s head falls back against the couch and he closes his eyes. “I know damn good and well that Evan’s responsible for the whole disaster. I just don’t know how the hell he did it or why. Until I figure out the answer to those two questions, I’ve asked Ben, my head of security, to keep an even closer eye on him—not that I think it will do much good. Evan seems to have an uncanny ability for disappearing and reappearing in the most unlikely places.”
“Any word on his wife?” The last time I’d seen Sheila was at our wedding as Evan dragged her from the church. Two days later, Evan let us know that they’d flown to Las Vegas and had gotten married, but that was the last update. I can’t help wondering if she’s okay.
“I haven’t heard anything, but then I haven’t been asking any questions.”
For reasons I couldn’t learn, Jeremy, the sweetest, most generous guy I know, had taken a “she’s made her own bed” attitude toward Sheila.
Since the last thing I want to do is get in an argument with him, I decide to change the subject. “I have some news.”
He opens one eye. “Excellent. What is it?”
Biting the inside of my cheek to contain my smile, I reach under the couch and feel around for the item I hid under there earlier. My fingers curl around it and I slide it into view, pushing Kahn’s curious nose out of the way as I do so.
I hand the plastic wand to Jeremy. “This time, the test is positive. We’re having a baby.”
87
Caitlin
Jeremy's gaze flicks from me to the wand and back to me. He doesn't ask me if I'm serious; he doesn't have to. There's no way to misinterpret the positive sign on the plastic wand. "How long have you known?" he finally says.
"I've been dealing with some sickness for a few weeks now."
"Is that why you've been getting up so much earlier than me? I thought you were just an early riser."
I shrug. "To a certain extent I am, but since just a few days before our wedding, my stomach refuses to let me sleep past five in the morning. And there are some scents at the shop that send me running for the bathroom, scents that have never bothered me before."
"But you only just took the test today, or have you been keeping it under the couch all this time?"
"I've been wanting to take the test, and wanting to tell you about it, but I was afraid to get either of our hopes up, especially now that Evan and Sheila are married ..." I let the words trail off. We both know that Evan is going to do everything in his power to make sure that she gets pregnant as soon as possible.
"Evan is the last thing I want to talk about right now." Jeremy reaches out and gently pushes my hair behind my ear. "I want to hear more about how you learned you were pregnant."
"I kept meaning to pick up a home test, but I kept chickening out. Today, I finally talked myself into it. I've only known the results for about an hour."
Jeremy grins and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his chest for a tight hug. He buries his face in my hair.
"We're having a baby," he c
rows.
“That we are,” I reply, my voice muffled by his shirt.
“Hang on.” He pushes me away almost as quickly as he hugged me and scrambles off the couch. “I bought something just for this occasion.”
I twist around and watch as he disappears into the kitchen. “Please God, tell me you didn’t buy cigars to help you celebrate conceiving a child. I hate the way they smell even when I’m not pregnant.” Just thinking about them causes my temperamental stomach to lurch. I press my palm to it, willing it to calm down. “If you’re getting cigars,” I say in my best warning voice, “you’re going to the roof to enjoy them.”
Jeremy leans across the threshold, waggling his eyebrows. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Why don’t you get your shoes and grab a couple of folding chairs out of the storage closet in the landing and head on up? I’ll catch up in a few minutes. I just have to get a few things ready.”
He’s right. It’s a nice night and while this isn’t the tallest building in Denver, it still provides a good view of the mountains.
Ten minutes later I’m leaning back in my chair, feet propped up on the safety rail that surrounds the perimeter of the building and counting stars when the door finally creaks open. I roll my head to the side, expecting to see Jeremy, but instead of my handsome husband, a scarred-up, lean dog lopes toward me.
“Hello, Khan.” I gasp as he drops his massive head on my chest. “I’m glad to see you too. It’s been too long since we parted.”
“He really wanted to help us celebrate.” Jeremy follows the same path Kahn took, but at a much more leisurely pace. A medium-sized picnic basket dangles from his fingertips. “I tried telling him no, that this was an adult-only party, but he looked sad so I caved.”
