Chapter 5
Rachel
I t wasn’t a good Thursday, that was for sure.
Rachel was out of champagne, chocolate, and was just about ready to lose her mind if she had to spend one more day on the sofa. She’d read through all of the magazines she had in her apartment, made more new Pinterest boards than she could count, and stalked everyone she ever knew on social media.
Rachel Winters was not the kind of girl to just sit around—but sit around she must, if she wanted her ankle to heal.
She’d considered trying some new Pinterest recipes she found that promised faster healing for sprains, but that would mean she’d have to hobble downstairs to hail a cab, wander into the grocery store, and then make it back, all on her crutches. She didn’t want to risk another disaster. Plus, the thought of smelling like a spicy salad didn’t sound appealing, especially when the results seemed sketchy. Maybe she should just let things heal naturally—but the slow process of that was truly aggravating. She needed to be back at work, singing her heart out. She hated the thought of someone else having her lines—even if she only really had six lines to speak. Still, those were six lines she’d worked for.
She thought about ignoring the doctor’s warning. How bad could the ankle really be? It hadn’t been that terrible of a fall, really. She felt fine, absolutely fine. Still, when she’d called her mother for their weekly phone conversation yesterday, she’d heard otherwise.
Her mother was a nurse and also very stubborn. When Rachel whined that certainly a sprain couldn’t be so bad, she’d sworn to Rachel that if she so much as put the foot on the ground, she’d be over so fast her head would spin. She also vowed that if she had to get on a plane and fly to New York just to make sure Rachel was taking care of her ankle, she might never leave. Rachel knew it was the truth. Even at thirty-one, Rachel was still terrified of her zany, unpredictable mother. Pamela Winters was not a woman you wanted to question, mess with, or lie to. And you never called her bluff. Rachel shuddered at the prospect of her mother moving in for even a couple of days let alone forever, so she decided to just heed her mother’s warning.
If her ankle situation wasn’t bad enough, Rachel was also feeling pretty down about the fact she was missing her weekly No Brides Club meeting, the highlight of every single week. She looked at all of the texts on her phone, feeling a little bit better that the girls were all keeping her in the loop and sending love, texting her how much they missed her. Still, it wasn’t the same as being there with that amazing group of women she’d befriended. It wasn’t the same as sipping on cocktails at the Briarwood Tavern, laughing, and sharing hilarious stories from their week’s adventures. They were all walking such different paths in life, but they still had a lot in common. Of course, there was the whole dedication to careers over marriage that they had each chosen. But there was more than that, too. Those women just got Rachel, appreciated her, understood her.
And if there was ever a time she needed that sense of friendship, it was right now. Go figure, the week she could make it to the meeting on time—she was often a bit late due to the afternoon performance on Thursdays—she physically couldn’t go.
Rachel flipped through a magazine for the third time, sulking a bit and feeling sorry for herself, when there was a clamoring at the door.
For a split second, Rachel’s mind went to Zander. He’d called yesterday—he’d gotten her number from Michael. She’d definitely have to have a conversation with Michael about giving her number out to random men. That was a concern in itself, but she wasn’t one to be complaining to the director of the play about anything these days.
And in truth, she was happy to hear from Zander for whatever reason. Whether it was loneliness or the fact Zander had seen her through the ordeal at the hospital, it was nice to hear from the guy with the gorgeous eyes and quirky sense of humor. He’d asked if she needed anything, and she’d said no, fighting the urge to ask him to come over—and to bring pizza and wine.
She didn’t need a man to take care of her, and she certainly wasn’t going to boss a stranger around. Or, well, he wasn’t really a stranger anymore. He was… oh, heck, that was just too complicated to think about.
There was more commotion at the door followed by some giggles. Rachel hobbled up from the sofa, ready to trudge to the door on her crutches, when the door opened.
“Darling, get your butt on the couch,” Georgie demanded. She’d let herself in with her key, of course.
Rachel was more stunned to see them than if it had been Zander.
Behind Georgie, the whole gang came bubbling through the door, a laughing clamor crashing into her apartment and bringing life back to the dried up, boring place.
“What are you all doing here?” Rachel asked, the smile widening at the sight of them.
“Why, bringing the meeting to you, of course. Did you really think we’d let you sit here with a bum ankle all by yourself and miss out? We brought you your favorite crab dip, some of that divine triple chocolate cheesecake, and a bottle of wine to share with us. Now get back on the couch right now,” Kinsley ordered, carrying the bag of all of the delicious foods she’d just ticked off. Rachel could cry she was so happy.
They filed in, gathering around, all talking at once as was usual when they got together. Rachel looked around at the women who had really become her family in the city. She should’ve known they wouldn’t just leave her hanging.
“So, how is it going? Are you holding up okay?” Kate asked, scooching over beside her on the couch as Georgie and Kinsley headed to the kitchen to get all of the snacks and wine ready.
“I’m going crazy here. I hate just having to sit around. I hate not being on stage. I’m so afraid I’m just going to be left behind, you know?”
“Come on. You know that’s not going to happen. You’re so talented, and Michael clearly sees that or he wouldn’t have asked you to run the workshop in the first place. We’ve been over this,” Kate argued.
It was what Georgie had reassured her on Sunday. It was what each of them had assured her on the phone when they’d called throughout the week to check on her after hearing the whole story from Georgie. Here they were again, stopping by to make sure she was okay. That’s what they did, though, this lovely group of women. They helped each other and checked on each other. They put aside responsibilities when they needed to in order to make sure they were all okay. That was the thing about these women. They were all busy building their careers, their lives, but they still made time to make the friendships a priority. That was what this group was really about, and Rachel was so proud to be a part of it.
Before she could respond with a gushy sentiment of the sort, though, Kinsley spoke up, “Hey, Rachel, I see Zander Riley was here.” Kinsley was staring at the bouquet of roses, the note Zander had left beside it prominently displaying his name and his number in case she needed anything. Kinsley stretched her neck from the kitchen to get a good view of Rachel. Rachel felt her cheeks warm as she tried to wave off the red roses the group was now ogling.
“Oh, yeah. He swung by. The kids made me cards and he wanted to drop them off,” Rachel replied. “It was nothing.”
“He came here to see you? Uh-oh,” Kate replied, a smirk on her face.
“No, not uh-oh,” Rachel argued, shaking her head. “Like I said, the kids made me cards and he brought them by. He’s just a nice guy.”
“A nice guy with eyes to see how gorgeous you are. Come on. I’m sure the kids didn’t pick up the dozen red roses and leave behind his number,” Georgie argued, and the other women gathered around.
“It’s not like that. Come on. You all know how I am. You know about my history with Seth. I’m not going to let some gorgeous guy ruin my chances again. Hello, isn’t that what this whole group is all about?”
“Well, in reality, I’m pretty sure it’s just about drinking drinks at happy hour and having an excuse to eat cheesecake on Thursdays,” Julie piped in after leaning over to smell the roses. “They’r
e beautiful, by the way.”
“Come on, give her a break,” Kate demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with a guy bringing roses, that’s for sure. It’s not like anyone’s running down the aisle or anything.”
The women looked at each other, nodding, a silent submission to the fact marriage was still off the table—at least for most of them. Things had certainly changed lately.
“Wine, anyone?” Melody asked, looking around.
“Yes, please,” almost every single woman said in unison as Georgie delivered Rachel her crab dip and cheesecake.
“A man who brings roses is always okay in my book,” she whispered so quietly that only Rachel could hear.
Rachel thought it an odd statement, but she just shrugged.
They spent the rest of the night laughing about the latest Facebook post by Rachel’s mother and the new guy at Julie’s office. When they left and the apartment was quiet again, Rachel mourned a bit for the loss of their energy.
Full of wine and alone, she stared for a moment at the roses on the counter, the card with Zander’s handwriting still stuck there. Rachel hobbled to the counter on her crutches, touching the card and thinking about the man who was stealing her thoughts more and more these days.
Goodness, she was losing it in this apartment. She was truly circling into the depths of madness.
After all, she was in the No Brides Club. She was in a group of women so adamant about not marrying that they had a club just for the sole purpose of reminding themselves not to walk down the aisle. And even though some of the women had recently been shaken by love and the basic tenets of the club were loosening up, Rachel wasn’t ready to let go of her promises. She wasn’t ready to fall in love again—was she?
Still, as Rachel climbed into bed later thinking about the way Zander’s hair fell in his face in a sexy, come-hither way, she couldn’t help but wonder if the club she joined three years ago might not be the club she could belong to forever.
Maybe some things did change with time, and maybe there were some promises you just couldn’t keep.
Chapter 6
Zander
J ogging through Central Park, Zander told himself he needed to lay off the takeout food and start cooking like an adult. Sweat poured down every inch of him, and his breathing was that of a man about to collapse. The back of his white T-shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his back, urging him to return home immediately and take a shower. He thought about the air conditioning in his apartment and the comfort of his couch. He thought about how it would’ve been so much better if he had stayed home and watched Netflix like he’d desperately wanted to. Still, he pushed on, telling himself he needed to clock at least another half mile to justify the hot wings he’d down when he got home.
Zander stopped to catch his breath, the heavy metal band he loved since high school screaming in his ears. When did he get so out of shape? Was it just him, or was the same run he’d done for years getting harder?
He peeked at his phone, deciding to change it to “The Eye of the Tiger” to give himself some inspiration—he would never admit that the song inspired him, at least not in public—when he realized he had an incoming call.
It was his brother, Ian.
Finding a bench to rest on, Zander picked up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?” he said, although it came out more like a wheeze.
“Are you okay, brother? Sounds like you’re having a heart attack or running a marathon.”
“Sorry. I’m in the middle of a run. What’s up?”
“My brother, the runner? What’s going on?” he teased, and Zander shook his head.
Ian had been the sporty jock type in high school, muscles rippling and girls falling over themselves to get to him. Zander, on the other hand, had been the theater nerd with thick glasses who usually got picked last in gym class. They’d come from very different high school experiences, and Ian still liked to tease him about it.
“Very funny. I’m surprised you can take a few minutes from your life in the spotlight for some boring peon like me. What’s going on? Have you decided to hang up your life on the edge and move to the suburbs?”
“You know better than that. Listen, I am actually calling to extend an invite.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I have a couple of weeks off in between filming, so Anne and I are going on a vacation. We’re thinking Germany. The director of the film I’m working on has family there, and they’ve offered us a place to stay. Wanted to see if you could spare some time and come hang out with us, third wheel a bit. It’s been forever, brother. And although I hate to admit it, I miss the heck out of you. We’re leaving in two weeks. Do you still have your passport?”
Zander sighed, leaning back on the bench and looking up at the sky. It had been a while. Too long, if he were being honest. Ian had moved out to California a couple of years ago to chase his crazy dreams. With his filming schedule and work, he rarely made it back home, even for holidays. Zander hadn’t seen him in person since Ian’s Las Vegas wedding. It would be good to see him. Even though they were wildly different, Ian had always been one of Zander’s best friends. They’d had their typical sibling rivalries and tiffs, but that hadn’t got in the way of their bond. Zander still talked to Ian on the phone often, but it wasn’t the same. He missed seeing his little brother on a regular basis, even if it did mean more jokes at Zander’s expense.
The wilder side of Zander told him to go for it, to throw caution to the wind, pick up, and go on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure with his brother. It would be nice for once to just have fun and ignore rational thought. And he did still have his passport from the family’s trip to Niagara Falls a year ago, so he could make it all work if he wanted to.
But then Zander thought about work. The school year was winding down, but they still had a while until graduation. In a few weeks, there would still be classes. He couldn’t just take a week or two off to go gallivanting through Germany on a whim. He couldn’t just leave behind everything, his apartment and responsibilities. He had bills to pay and a job to consider here. He couldn’t just hop on a plane for an international trip because he wanted to. Responsible, rational adults didn’t do that.
Ian had never been rational. Responsible, somewhat, but rational wasn’t how he lived. Of course, in his line of work, that was an asset.
“That sounds fun, but I can’t. I have work and things to take care of here. I can’t just get off from the school for a week or two with this little notice.”
“Come on, Zander. Live a little. When’s the last time you got out of the city? When’s the last time you went on an adventure? Call in sick. Take a leave of absence or something, I don’t know how it all works. But come on, do this. It’ll be something we’ll remember forever.”
It was tempting, and Zander took a moment to think about it. He wished he could be like Ian, ignoring what he was supposed to do in favor of what he wanted to do.
But he couldn’t. He knew no matter how bad he wanted to say yes to this one, it had to be a no.
“Sorry, brother, but some of us have more traditional roots laid out. We can’t just pick up at the drop of a dime. Thank you for the offer. I really do wish I could go, but I just can’t swing it.”
“You’re single, and from what I’ve heard, you’re somewhat attractive. Don’t let that go to your head, and know I’d never admit it out loud. But seriously, Zander, come on. Life is for living, not sitting around some New York City apartment working on lesson plans. Take some time off. Come with us. It’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe you’ll meet some herrlich frau. That means gorgeous woman. I’ve been brushing up on my German. I know some swear words, too.”
Zander shook his head, grinning at his larger than life brother whose grasp of the German language was shoddy at best. Of course Ian wouldn’t see any problem with jet-setting around the world at the blink of an eye or learning German or just picking up and leaving work behind. Ian’s life was different than Zander’s. Way different. Fast cars,
parties with the up and coming, life in the fast lane. And even though Ian was married, he’d hardly settled down. Anne was a model with a love for living a life of adventure as much as Ian. They just didn’t get what real life was like.
“Listen, I love you for inviting me. It sounds like fun, it does. But I can’t pull it off. Maybe over the summer, I’ll make it out to California to see you, okay? You can show me around.”
“Sure, brother. That’s what you’ve been saying for the past two years. I’ll believe it when I see those pasty pale legs of yours in the California sun.”
“I’m sorry. I miss you, I do. But… I have to think about the life I have here. You know? I have responsibilities.”
“That word is so boring,” Ian replied, and Zander could imagine the signature Ian eye roll happening.
“Well, I really do hope you two have a good time, okay?”
“All right. But if you change your mind, call me.”
“Will do, brother. Love you.”
“Back at you,” Ian replied before hanging up.
Zander tucked the phone into his pocket and sat for a while, staring out into Central Park. When he’d moved to New York City, he’d been a man filled with a zest for life, ready to explore and be adventurous. He wanted to live somewhere where excitement reigned supreme and leave all of the stuff from his past behind. He’d pictured his life as this exciting montage of scenes from a movie—sexy bars, wild times, and a whole lot of new things. He thought this would be the perfect place to reinvent Zander Riley and to get a little bit closer to the life he’d once imagined for himself. He wanted to reclaim the life Sheila had shredded right before his eyes.
But here he sat, his back sweaty from a jog in Central Park, thinking about how off the mark he’d been. His brother was out there exploring and chasing his dreams. And Zander was, too, wasn’t he? He had become a teacher. He had a steady job he loved, a simple but nice apartment, and a group of friends who were there when he needed them. He’d built a life of stability despite the fallout from his breakup with Sheila. He’d salvaged from the wreckage of his life a semblance of his dream.
No Time for Promises (The No Brides Club Book 3) Page 4
