by Tessa Teevan
So, yeah, kinda freaking out over here, even if I am insanely proud of her.
“Calm down, Lyssa,” she says, her tone soothing. It works—a little. “I’m fine. I promise. There was just an accident and I’m in the hospital.”
I jump out of bed, nearly tumbling to the ground as I get tangled up in my sheets. “OH MY GOD!” I’m shrieking, running around the room, and throwing clothes on until Ariana’s voice cuts through my madness.
“Are you done?” she asks, her tone teasing.
I sit on the edge of the bed, trying not to think the worst. Apparently, she’s okay, or else she wouldn’t be the one calling me. Still, the idea of my sister in some hospital God knows where terrifies me.
“Ari, what the hell happened? What do you mean ‘there was just an accident’? You can’t tell me not to freak out and then dump something like that on me. What the hell happened?” I ask again with emphasis.
“There was a semi that crossed over into my lane, and before I could react, it hit me,” she begins.
I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from shrieking again. I listen patiently as she details what happened, and I want to know immediately who this stranger is that saved her. He’s a hero in my book.
“And, Lyss, the weirdest thing about all this? The guy who saved me? The stranger? Well, he’s not exactly a stranger.”
Even though she can’t see me, I furrow my brow. “What? What do you mean? Who do you know in.. Wait, where are you?”
Ari releases a deep breath. “It’s not important.” I’m about to protest and she rushes on. “Do you remember last Christmas when I disappeared from the company party?”
“Oh yeah. Ben left you high and dry. You said it was too stuffy and you were going to get some fresh air. You ended up in the hotel ba—” I stop, instantly knowing just who this mysterious savior is. “Holy shit. Are you serious? Of all the men in the world, how in the hell did you two end up in the same place at the same time? Again? And this time, the roles were reversed and he was the one taking care of you? I’ll be freaking damned.”
“I know. When I saw him, I thought I was seeing things. I do remember him saying that he lived in the Nashville area. But still. Out of all the freaking people here. And now, he’s hurt. All because of me.”
I sigh. It’s so like Ari to feel guilty because a man saved her life. As if she’d had any control over the situation. “It’s not because of you, sweetie. He risked his life to save you, which is kind of crazy because the guy you described to me sounded more like a drunken jerk than a real-life Superman. Makes me wonder if that night helped him as much as it helped you.”
The air fills with silence as Ariana thinks on my words. And then, she changes the subject. “Speaking of, on a scale of one to ten, how livid are Victoria and William?”
“Girl, there’s no one to ten here. We’re talking mega mad. Richter-scale-off-the-charts livid. The level of their anger puts even the worst earthquake to shame. The only thing keeping Dad from disowning you is the fact that Benjamin’s a delusional asshole who thinks you just need to sow your wild oats. According to him, you’ll come crawling back when you come to your senses.” I brace myself for the rest. “In fact, they didn’t even cancel the wedding. A simple postponement was announced, and everyone’s acting like there’s nothing wrong. Of course, now this accident will give them just what they need to prove it.”
“No!” she yells sharply then coughs. “I mean, I don’t want them to know. I’ll be out of here in a few days, and I just need the time alone. The last thing I need is them barging in here, especially not Benjamin. I can’t stomach the thought of him trying to play the caring, concerned, dutiful fiancé. Hell, he’d probably try and drag a justice of the peace in here just so he can have his trophy wife.”
I’m about to tell her I’ll never let that happen when she continues.
“Plus, my big mouth may have gotten me in trouble here already.”
I smile, wondering what in the hell Ariana could’ve done to get herself into trouble in a hospital. “Oh, Ari. What’d you do?” I ask, knowing she’s probably making it seem worse than it actually is.
“They weren’t going to let me see him, and I have to. He saved my life, and he doesn’t deserve to be lying in that hospital bed all alone. So when the nurse told me, I glanced down at my engagement ring, and before I could stop myself, I was blurting out that he’s my fiancé.”
“You didn’t!” I gasp at the scandalous detail.
I’m the impulsive one, not Ariana. Hence my one-night-stand with Shane. Ariana never would’ve done that. She’s always had a plan. Her life mapped out. And I don’t know if she’s ever told a lie before. Huh. Maybe she’s more like me than either of us realized and it took an asshole like Benjamin to bring devious Ariana to the surface.
“I did. And I know I should regret it, but I don’t. I’m still waiting for the doctor to clear me to go see him. I need to know, Lyss. I need to know he’s okay.”
There’s something in Ariana’s voice I can’t quite read. “What are you going to do when he wakes up? Because, fingers crossed, he’s going to wake up. And unless he has amnesia, he’s going to wonder who the hell you are, pretending to be his fiancée.”
“He is going to wake up,” she insists. “And I’m going to be there to hold his hand, maybe talk to him, to coach him back into it. You know they say people in a coma can hear you, and it’s not fair to him if all he has are doctors and nurses and machines beeping. If—no, when—he wakes up, I’ll deal with it then. It’s not like the nurses care whether we’re really together or not. He’ll wake up, I’ll thank him, and then I’ll figure out where my life is headed after that.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Ari. Just one night with this guy had you questioning your entire future. I can’t imagine what a fake engagement will do.”
Now, I’m scaring myself. When did I become the voice of reason?
“It’s not a fake engagement. It’s just a means of being able to see him. And obviously, even as a drunken therapist, he was right to have me questioning my future. I was almost too late.” There’s a pause, and I hear muffled talking. Then Ariana comes back to the phone. “I’ve gotta go, Lyssa. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll call you tomorrow when I have more news.”
I’m not telling a soul. I want this adventure for Ariana, but if I encourage her, she’ll decide it’s a bad idea and come home. So I play it cool.
“Fine. It’s going against my better judgment, but for now, I’ll trust you and keep this between us. But you’re racking up a lot of IOUs with me, Ari. Don’t think I’ll forget them.”
“Love you, Lyss. And I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
“Okay. Love you, too.”
Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to go to my sister, but I have to trust her. I force myself back into bed, hoping that once I fall asleep, Shane will still be there waiting for me.
ANOTHER WELLINGTON bites the dust.
I’m sipping on my scotch while watching Knox and his new bride make their rounds and greet guests in the intimate backyard of the Wellington Mansion.
The past two months have been a whirlwind of activity for the Wellington men. Cohen found the self-proclaimed love of his life. Branson was mending the rift with his family and then was in a terrible car accident. I’d meant to find time to visit him, but with the Filiatrault merger chase in full swing, it was hard to get out of the office. Plus, Aunt Amelia had cryptically told my mother that Branson needed space.
And just a few moments ago, Knox pledged his life and his love to Charlie Davenport, a feisty woman I’ve only met a handful of times, yet I already know she’ll keep him on his toes.
Just as I’m about to go find Cohen and harass him about the cute redhead who hasn’t left his side, I feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turn, Branson’s standing there, his arm hooked around the waist of a petite woman with dark-brown hair swept up into some fancy hairdo. My eyes narrow, taking
in the all-too-familiar sight of her. Realization dawns, and this time, my eyes widen.
It’s her.
Branson doesn’t seem to notice my incredulity, but Ariana Covington, Alyssa’s sister, Cunningham’s runaway bride, blushes with awareness.
I’m so not drunk enough for this.
“Shane, I want to introduce you to someone.” Branson gazes down at the woman on his arm, his eyes full of delight. Happiness. I haven’t seen him like this since…well, ever. “This is Ariana, my fiancée.”
I nearly choke on my whiskey. “Your what?” I ask, wondering if I heard him wrong. I had to have heard him wrong.
Sure, Benjamin and I don’t run in the same circles, and my paths crossed even less with Ariana, but everyone knows about her running out of him and canceling the wedding at the last minute. How in the hell is she now engaged to my cousin?
Just as I’m about to ask, Ariana clears her throat. She holds her left hand up, showing off one hell of a rock. “You heard correctly. His fiancée. Hi, Shane. It’s nice to see you again.”
Now, it’s Branson’s turn to look confused. With knitted eyebrows, he glances back and forth between the two of us. “Again? You’ve met before?”
Ariana rests a hand on his chest, giving him a charming smile. “Shane’s a friend of Alyssa’s.”
This time, I actually do choke on my whiskey. Then I shoot her a puzzling look. Her sister’s mentioned me? Interesting.
She continues. “We don’t know each other well, but our circles in Atlanta cross paths from time to time. How do you two know each other?”
I almost laugh at the relief on Branson’s expression. “Shane’s my cousin. Wow. What a small fucking world.”
Ariana laughs. “Shane Wellington. Of course. I’m not sure how I never put it together. That’s who you were visiting last winter when we met?”
Last winter?
And, suddenly, it’s clear. Ariana, the mystery woman who was engaged at the time. The angel in Branson’s hotel room the night he’d come to visit, not knowing I was out of town.
So the night Ariana was saving Branson, I was taking her sister’s virginity.
Small fucking world, indeed.
Branson’s oblivious to the awkward exchange. He pulls Ariana in closer and then narrows his eyes at me. “I thought I was your favorite cousin, Shane. What the hell? All I got was a measly get-well card from your secretary.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, if I’d have known you were shacking up with your fiancée, maybe I would’ve found the time to get out of the office. Things have been crazy busy this summer and I couldn’t get away. But for this? I’d have made the trip. When exactly did this happen?” I ask, waving his hand between the two of them.
They look to each other, and for a split second, I wonder what’s so scandalous that one of them can’t just spit it out. This whole thing is odd, and with how Branson’s last marriage went, I can’t imagine him getting attached so quickly again. Especially to some woman he hardly knows. A woman who, two months ago, was planning her wedding to another man.
Before Branson can explain, Amelia comes over to steal him away, letting him know that it’s time for the wedding party to be formally introduced.
He gives his woman an apologetic smile and then a kiss. “See you in a bit, baby,” he whispers.
I give Branson a nod and then wait until he’s out of earshot before turning back to Ariana, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this is. “What the hell, Ariana? Alyssa said you were holed up somewhere and you were fine, but here with Branson? And engaged? What about Ben?”
Okay, so Alyssa didn’t exactly tell me that, but word has gotten around. But if Ariana thinks I’m close to her sister, maybe she’ll be truthful with me.
She glances around then pulls me by my arm to the edge of the backyard as if she wants to have this conversation in private. “Alyssa’s been covering for me since I left Atlanta. I didn’t want anyone to know where I was. And as far as Ben goes, there’s nothing to tell. I called off the wedding. It’s over between us.”
I scoff, having heard the rumors. “Does he know that? Because last I heard, the wedding was still a go.”
“Yes, he knows that. He’s just too stubborn to believe it. But trust me, Shane. It’s completely over between us. There is no us.”
I run a hand through my hair and look down at her, seeing the earnest expression on her face. “Okay,” I say slowly. “So you and Ben aren’t together anymore. What about Branson? How in the hell did you become engaged to him in so little time after leaving Atlanta? Is he why you left Atlanta? I know it’s none of my business, but if you met last winter, and then all of a sudden, you’re here with him now after you called off your engagement… Were you fucking around behind Ben’s back with my cousin?”
The blood drains from Ariana’s face, and I feel like a dick for the accusation. “No! No, nothing like that. I swear. It’s… It’s a long story, and it’s been a whirlwind. This isn’t the place to talk about it, but I promise you nothing improper happened between us while I was still with Ben.”
I eye her warily. Then I let out a deep breath, not wanting to be an asshole. Especially if I want her help in getting her sister back. “Look, I don’t mean to sound like a prick. It’s just… I want to see him happy. I really do. Branson’s been through a lot. Just do me a favor. Don’t fuck with him or his heart. He had enough of that before.”
Ariana places a hand on my arm and gazes up into my eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that from me. I know it’s been fast and it seems crazy, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I couldn’t bear it if I ever hurt him. All I want is to make him as happy as he makes me.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?” I ask, and she nods immediately. “Then I guess congratulations are in order. And for the record, he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. I was there on his first wedding day and he tried to fake it, but he couldn’t. Not with me. The smile on his face when he introduced you as his fiancée? It’s about ten times brighter than any I’ve ever seen.”
Ariana gazes across the yard to where the wedding party is standing by the back door. My eyes follow hers. Hell, I’m nearly taken aback by the sight. Branson’s messing with Cohen, laughing while Knox watches with laughter. Aunt Amelia’s watching her boys, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen the three of them together and acting like…well, brothers. Whatever the hell Ariana’s done for Branson, I can’t question it. It’s obvious there’s a change in him.
Ariana turns back to me with a warm smile. “I’ll do everything I can to keep him as happy as he is now.” There’s a soft warmth in her eyes that tells me she means exactly what she says.
With that out of the way, I lean in close. “Now, about your sister…”
A coy smile plays at her lips. “I thought you were the one at the wine bar. How convenient this is,” she says.
I grin. “How convenient, indeed.”
TIME HAS flown by since Ariana left Ben at the altar, got into a car accident, met the man of her dreams (her words, often), and decided to give up her life in Atlanta in favor of moving to Belle Mead, Tennessee to start anew. While my sister’s living her whirlwind romance with her mystery man, things with the Filiatrault merger are beginning to move forward. Inch by slow freaking inch. Or it starts to feel that way, but then Mr. Filiatrault makes some new demand that has the entire team scrambling. It doesn’t matter though. It’s invigorating to be a part of the team, especially with Bryan to help guide me.
He and I have fallen into a great rhythm, both at work and at home. He’s a fantastic roommate, and he makes the commute fun. He hasn’t said anything about Corinna, and I haven’t asked. It’s not my place, especially when I have my own issues to work through. So we spend our time working, playing a lot of pool at the place around the corner from my apartment, and running our problems away.
It’s true. Before Bryan moved in, my cardio consisted of the occas
ional spin class, but from the first time he told me that running helped him forget what he didn’t have, I was sold.
I’m not saying it’s fun. I’d be lying, but I’ve never felt or slept better in my life. Now, I look forward to our early morning runs, more than I usually look forward to coffee.
Today, there’s even more of a pep in my step. Ariana’s finally coming back to the city after having been away for two months. Which means it’s also been the same amount of time since I’ve seen Shane.
It’s been nothing but random notes and gifts in the weeks since we saw each other across the room at Ollie’s wine bar. Not a single phone call, personal appearance, or even a request for a date. If it weren’t for the occasional flower or candy-gram, I’d think he’d given up on me.
I kind of hate him right now, but only because his distance is making me want him all that much more. Before it was ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Now? He’s dangling on the edge and it’s killing me not to reach out and pull him in close.
I push all thought aside and force myself to put on a happy face for my sister. I’m going to meet her man, Branson, for the first time. I’m equal parts hesitant and excited. I want this guy to be the real deal. I’m giddy at the thought of Ariana enjoying a romance to rival the most epic love story. Yet I know my sister, and her picker hasn’t always been her friend. Still, from the Skype chats I’ve had with Branson, he seems great, if you like the sexy, silent, dark brooding type.
And, well, I do.
Ariana warned me that this dinner is going to be a foursome. One of Branson’s groomsmen lives in the city, and they want us to meet. Not a double date, she promised. Just four people having dinner. Whatever that means.
Knowing that men who look like Branson often run in packs, I take my time getting ready for the evening. I’m dressed in a black-and-pink floral wrap dress that makes my boobs look stellar. They’re not on full display; the hint of cleavage is just enough to leave something to the imagination and make it soar to astronomical heights (probably wishful thinking, but hey, can’t blame a girl for trying). It hits me just below my knees. My favorite nude pumps round out the look. I planned on leaving my hair down, but when I see how the cut in the back of my dress shows off ample skin, I sweep it up into a casual braided updo.
