by Tessa Teevan
Shane runs his hand through his messy hair then glances in my direction. “I’ll walk you out.”
Panic sets in. I can’t be alone with him. Not tonight. My resolve isn’t strong enough—I know it. I also know I only have to get through this damn wedding, if it ever really happens, and then he’ll be out of my life for good.
Wishful thinking, since he’s practically part of the family now, my stupid brain reminds me.
So I put on my best bitch face and shake my head. Looping my arm through my sister’s, I shoot him down.
“No need. I’ll walk out with my sister.” Then, not wanting to seem too rude in front of the other couple, I nod and offer a stiff smile, suddenly remembering he mentioned a business trip the next day. “Have a safe trip tomorrow.”
Before he can respond, I lead my sister away from the two men, breathing a sigh of relief once we’ve stepped into the lobby and out of earshot.
“What the heck was that, Alyssa? I thought you and Shane were friendly,” my sister asks, confusion etched on her delicate features. “Why were you shooting daggers at him all night? Why was he so broody in the beginning? Am I missing something here?”
I sigh my frustration. Apparently, she’s forgotten about the last time she asked me about him. Which is good, because I just brush her off as the memory washes over me.
Over the summer, Ariana and I had been out at one of our favorite Atlanta wine bars when my world suddenly stopped. One second I was sipping a fantastic pinot noir, and the next I was staring into the incredible eyes of the man who’d taken my virtue. I’d squeaked, turning, hoping he hadn’t recognized me—even though I knew he had. Ariana, always one to read me so well, glanced behind me, her eyes widening when she saw him.
“Do you know that man, Lyss?” she asked, her eyes wide. “He’s…well, hell, he’s one of the finest men I’ve ever seen.”
I rolled my eyes, even though I agreed. Completely. I downed my wine, then stood, ready to bolt. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with the man I’d slept with, then promptly left without so much as a goodbye, thanks, or here’s my phone number if you wanna do this again. And, God, I so wanted to do it again.
“Shane Wellington. I, um, I know him through work. I don’t really know him. Just of him. And word on the street is he’s a player, a womanizer, and it’s best to steer clear of him.”
I plastered on a smile I’d hoped wasn’t too fake and hightailed it out of there, Ariana on my heels, after having her own freak out over seeing who I now know was Branson.
Instead of answering her this time, I push all thoughts of the past away and quickly say my goodbyes to Branson and my sister. Before she can ask again, I slip into the cab, grateful I survived another night with Shane. That is until I’m no longer in the taxi alone. Somehow, without my realizing it, he slipped in beside me and told the cabbie to take off, straight to the wine bar where I saw him all those months ago.
My eyes widen, and I turn to him. “You saw me, didn’t you?” I ask weakly, as if I hadn’t seen him chase after me and burst into the parking lot just as Ollie had peeled out of it.
He grins, leans in, and kisses my forehead.
It’s sweet.
It’s too much.
It’s everything I need right at this moment.
I love it. I hate it. Or may I just hate loving it.
“Of course I saw you, sunshine. You can’t step into a room without my seeing you.” He pulls back. “But you sure as hell can leave one before letting a guy make his way to you.”
At that thought, the corners of his lips turn down a bit. “First, you leave me at the beach with no way to contact you, and then you run away at the first sight of me. You don’t return my cards. You don’t say anything about the flowers. You act as if I don’t exist. You could give a guy a complex, sunshine.”
“You know why I left.”
What he doesn’t know was how much I’ve come to regret it.
“I do. And I get it. But what we shared that night… How could you walk away so easily? I don’t get that.”
His earnest eyes are nearly my undoing, so I close mine and try to keep the memories away. Branson’s asking about the Filiatrault merger comes to the forefront of my mind. Of course we’d be working for separate firms competing for the same account.
When I reopen them, Shane’s still staring intently at me. I swallow hard, unable to believe what I’m about to do. “Shane, I…want to… Really, I do…but…”
My words trail off, because while my heart says, YES GIRL DO IT, my mind is telling me that it’s a bad idea. Especially after overhearing them talk about Filiatrault.
Shane places a hand behind my head and kisses me on the forehead. I nearly melt. “Then say yes, Alyssa. Come home with me. I need you.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to agree. And then I glance down and see a file sticking out of his briefcase. The moonlight is a practically a spotlight on one damning word.
Filiatrault.
Shane’s hand falls to the seat when I pull away. Our eyes meet, his full of longing, mine full of what I can only guess is regret.
“I can’t do this. This is a bad idea.” I don’t care where we are. I lean forward and ask the driver, “Sir, please pull over and let me out.”
The instant disappointment in Shane’s eyes threatens my resolve, but then his demeanor quickly transforms into one of relaxed ease, as if he hasn’t a care in the world. “Right. I’ve gotta get up early for my flight anyway. It was nice seeing you again, sunshine. I look forward to our next meeting,” he says, tossing in a charming wink just to remind me of why I half fell head over heels the first time I met him.
When the cabbie pulls over and I get out, Shane lets me go without another word.
And for reasons I’m not strong enough to explore, I’m now the disappointed one.
The moment I walk in the door and see Bryan lounging on the couch, I realize he wasn’t just right about Corinna. Apparently, I can also give relationship advice but don’t know how to follow it myself.
I’m an idiot.
Of all the timing in the world. Of all the men in the world. It had to be him, now. When I’m working on the most prominent account of my career and wanting someone more than I’ve ever allowed myself to dare, only to find out he’s the freaking namesake of our biggest competition.
But like Shane said, we’ll see what happens at the wedding. I just don’t know exactly what I’m hoping for.
I KNOW I’m skeptical about the whole fake engagement thing, but I’ve already seen Branson put through the wringer once before. I don’t want to see it happen again, even if I’m pretty sure Ariana’s not that type of woman. I can tell he doesn’t like my line of questioning, so after my last glower and a few whispered words to Alyssa, I turn my attention back to him and change the conversation to talk about our interest.
I feel Alyssa’s eyes on me the entire time. I have a feeling I know what she’s thinking, and I wonder if her embellished animosity towards me will dissipate by the time we reach the end of dinner. I sure as hell hope so, but if I have to chase, I have no problem with that.
“What’s the pulse on the Filiatrault merger?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey.
I glance to Alyssa, but she hasn’t heard a word we’ve said. I’m hopeful it’s because her mind is far away, back at the beach, or perhaps in the future when we’ll be exploring just how great we could be together. I’m also glad she’s not paying attention because there’s no doubt in my mind Wellsley-Callahan is going after the same business.
“He’s being fickle. Playing hard to get. I have a feeling he’s being courted by a few larger companies and he wants us to compete against each other.”
Branson grins. “It wasn’t until I met Ariana that I realized business is really just like an episode of The Bachelor. We’re all vying for that final rose, no matter what we have to do.”
I bring a hand to my chest in protest. “For the love of God, Branson, it must b
e love if she’s making you watch The Bachelor and you’re already making comparisons.”
He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “Told you, Shane. It’s the real deal. And hey, it’s not a bad comparison. Especially if you’re in the running. Besides, who could resist a Wellington face?”
I glance to Alyssa, and Branson barks out laughter. She’s surprised by the outburst, and when she gives him questioning eyes, he waves her away. Fortunately, Ariana starts talking to her and he turns his attention back to me.
“I’m proud of you, Shane. I know being a bigwig was never the goal for you, and yet you’ve stepped it up and made this division one of the highest-earning for the entire company. Since you’ve taken over, it’s become the most productive division when it comes to business mergers. We couldn’t do it without you.”
I raise my glass. “The Wellington Way.”
He laughs again. “Wow. I haven’t heard anyone talk about the Wellington Way since I was a teenager.” His expression turns pensive. “I guess there was no reason to. Damn, Grandma Kate’s always right, isn’t she?”
I shrug. “Jury’s still out on me.”
He just shakes his head and chuckles. The rest of dinner is pleasant—comfortable, even—as we make small talk. I allow myself to relax, call off the interrogation, and try to really get to know Ariana, since what I knew before was just from her time with Cunningham. Alyssa’s still lost in her own little world, and that’s fine by me. We have plenty of time to figure this out.
Branson pays the bill and grabs Ariana’s hand when she yawns.
She quickly covers her mouth. “Sorry. Those couple of glasses of wine made me tired,” she apologizes with a sheepish grin.
Alyssa glances at her watch then stands. “I have an early morning tomorrow, so I should probably get going. It was so great to finally meet you, Branson. I’ll have to come to Tennessee to visit soon.”
We all stand, and I decide it’s time to make my move. “I should get going, too. I’ll walk you out,” I offer, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the desperation I’m feeling.
She stiffens then loops her arm through Ariana’s. “No need. I’ll walk out with my sister,” she replies, giving me a curt nod before smiling at me. “Have a safe trip tomorrow.”
Ariana looks confused as she allows her sister to pull her out of the room. Branson and I watch as they disappear. Then he turns to me, apparent amusement on his face.
“What was that about? I thought you two were friends,” Branson inquires.
Ah, so Ariana has told him something.
I roll my eyes, pretending it’s no big deal. Apparently, he didn’t put two and two together, and the last thing I want to do is tell him I slept with his fiancée’s sister.
“We were. We are.”
Branson doesn’t say anything in response, and I can tell he’s waiting for me to elaborate.
I run a hand through my hair. “It’s complicated.”
Branson laughs and pats me on the back. “Things with women usually are.”
He takes off after the women, and I follow, placing a hand on his shoulder when I reach him.
I cock an eyebrow and turn towards him, stopping us before he can reach the elevator. “Is that true for you and Ariana? Are things complicated?”
Branson looks confused for a moment. Then his lips curve into a smile. “No. And maybe that’s why we work. Even when we were thrown into living together, it was never difficult. I know you’re worried about it, but don’t be. I’m happy, Shane.”
I hold my hand steady on his shoulder. “I know. I can tell.” I pause, unsure of how much I should say. I don’t know what all she’s told him, and if she hasn’t told him everything, it shouldn’t come from me. But with his past, I won’t allow him to get hurt again. Not by a woman. I don’t know if Branson could take another heartbreak, especially with this woman who has the potential to ruin him. “But do you know everything about her ex? Do you know why they really broke up? I don’t know. I hate to say this because she seems like a nice girl and I can tell she does care about you, but the whole thing just seems…a little too convenient.”
Whoa, that was the wrong thing to say. Branson works through several emotions: surprise, rage, anger. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his nostrils flaring, and I have to take a step back, because cousin or not, the guy looks like he might punch me.
When his dark eyes open, however, I see a calm there that I don’t think I’ve ever seen. A genuine smile curves at his lips.
“Yeah, Shane. I know. She’s been nothing but honest with me about it, and to be honest, I don’t give a shit why she left him. That doesn’t matter. Just like it doesn’t matter why I’m not with Megan anymore. I’m leaving the past where it belongs—in the past—and I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same.”
Enough for me. I hold my hands up and take another step back. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.”
The elevator dings and we step inside, riding in silence. I can feel the tension swirling around us, and I want to apologize, but the truth is I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry for wanting what’s best for my family. I just hope Branson can see that in time.
The elevator doors open, and I get off first. The women are across the lobby, chatting animatedly. I start to walk towards them, but Branson calls my name. So I turn around, and he pinches the bridge of his nose before he looks at me. Then he lets out a deep breath.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for always having my back, even when everyone else treated me like the bastard I was. I’m grateful for you, and I know I should’ve listened to your advice all those years ago. That being said, Ariana is different. I love her, man, and regardless of how we got together, I’m spending the rest of my life with her. I’d be appreciative to have your support.”
In all of his years with Megan, Branson never defended her. Sure, she was his wife. It was his job to do just that, but there was no excuse for the way she acted—ever. So when he takes Ariana’s back and asks me to do the same, who am I to argue?
I swallow hard then nod in his direction. “I guess it’s the cynic in me, and after watching you be miserable for so long, I’m just worried about it happening again.”
Branson does a chin lift towards Ariana, his eyes never leaving her. “Do I look miserable to you?” he asks, and I can’t help but laugh.
He’s not wrong. He doesn’t look miserable. Not even in the slightest.
“No. Not at all. And to be honest, I was convinced after the night of Knox’s wedding.”. I grin. “Hell, I was surprised you made it off the dance floor before tearing her dress off.”
He grins at my teasing.
“I guess I was just caught off guard by the whole fake engagement thing. You have to admit it’s a pretty wild story.”
Branson places an arm around my shoulder and gives me a bro squeeze before letting go. “I know, I know. I was even more of a cynic than you are. If I hadn’t lived it, I’d be thinking the same thing.”
The girls walk out the revolving door and head outside, and we make it out there just in time as Alyssa’s gets into a cab.
Fuck, I’m almost too late. With a quick nod to Branson and a kiss to Ariana’s cheek, I say my goodbyes and run to the cab, grab the door, and slide in next to Alyssa.
The sound of her protesting shriek makes me smile, and I close the door, waving to Ariana and Branson while trying to ignore the feel of Alyssa’s pure hitting my chest.
I rattle off the address of the winery where I’d seen her this past summer, and sit back against the leather as the cabbie takes us on our way.
Alyssa’s huffing next to me and it’s not long before she turns to me with a glare. We exchange a bit of back and forth conversation, and even though it’s hostile and ends with her stopping the cab, I know what’s between has only intensified on this night.
She leaves. I let her go.
It’s all a part of the plan.
Later on, I’m commiserating on my couch with a pi
nt of rocky road and a romantic film that makes me weepy. I jump when my phone lights up. I get some idiotic, foolish hope that it’s from Shane and wonder if he got my number from my sister.
But my hopes are dashed when it is actually my sister.
Ari: While I think tonight’s dinner went well enough, I got some weird vibes. Branson agreed, but don’t worry, he’s not in the room right now and I won’t break your confidence. What was going on? You ignored my question earlier about Shane. Why do I get the feeling something happened between you two?
I sit up quickly, groaning. I knew we hadn’t played it off well enough, but I’d hoped Branson and Ariana were too focused on each other than to notice. And that’s what we call wishful thinking.
I tap the spoon against my chin, wondering what the hell I should tell her. I can’t exactly tell her I had a one-night stand with her fiancé’s cousin, can I? That wouldn’t be awkward at all. Ari would probably take it upon herself to fix us up or, heaven forbid, place us together in the procession for the wedding.
With quick fingers, I type out a message that I hope satisfies her.
Me: Oh, I’m so sorry if we made it awkward. We were acquaintances back in college. He dated a friend of mine and things didn’t end well. I think we were both just surprised to see each other. We talked in the cab, and all is well now. In fact, we’ve already planned to be platonic “dates” to the wedding whenever it happens so meddling family members don’t try and set us up with anyone. You know how weddings make people. :D Plus, we both know Victoria would love him, and clearly I live to drive her crazy. Now go back to your hunk. Love you!
Ari: Oh, good! I’m glad to know things are good. You two are the closest to both of us, so I’d hate it if there was some bad blood there. And I like the sound of platonic dates. Mother will fawn all over him, and then her head will explode when she finds out it’s not true. You’re a little evil genius. Night, Lyssa. Love you, too.
I put my phone away then rest my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. What the hell am I doing? Lie after lie, and it’s eventually going to catch up to me. But I just hope that, for now, that little explanation keeps Ariana off my back where Shane’s concerned.
