'Til Death Do Us Part

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'Til Death Do Us Part Page 12

by Eliza Daly


  “I have to agree with Kenny,” Cassidy said. Scary. “A lot of women are going to say similar things. Love at first sight, soul mate, destiny . . . blah, blah, blah. We have almost a thousand applications to go through. We can’t get hung up on one right off the bat.”

  “Yeah, but she actually met him.”

  “Maybe she’s lying. Who’s to say?”

  “Will be easy enough to verify. Her name’s Erica Turner, and she works in the grant development and events department at Children’s Medical Center.”

  No need to check that out. Ryan attended their benefits. As a matter of fact, he was attending one that evening. What a coincidence. Yet there were no coincidences in life, but rather synchronicities—people, places, or events that your soul attracted into your life.

  Was Erica Turner Ryan’s soul mate?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deciding which dress to wear to the benefit was a no-brainer. Cassidy went with the only one that still remotely fit. A black satin cocktail-length dress with a vee neckline and a draped, open back. Last time she’d worn the dress, it’d made a subtle, yet classy statement. Now, it screamed va-va-voom, hugging every curve like it wouldn’t let go, unless the seams split. Six months of takeout from the Golden Dragon and a dozen other restaurants had snuck up on her.

  Holding her breath, she whisked past the chaffing dishes filled with garlic-buttered shrimp and beef pot stickers. She stopped in front of a mound of prawns chilling on a bed of ice. Shrimp was fat free, but they were awfully big shrimp. Would she have room to spare in her dress? She put a few on her plate, then breezed past the jazz trio and champagne fountain in the middle of the foyer. The art museum’s expansive white foyer contrasted nicely with the roomful of black tuxes and predominately black dresses. She’d planned dozens of weddings in this same space. It was ideal if a client was going for the modern, elegant look. Villa Luna’s romantic ambiance was a necessity, adding legitimacy to Ryan’s wedding if she didn’t find his perfect mate.

  Cassidy had never excelled at analyzing artwork, despite her parents’ persistent efforts. When other kids were finger-painting, her parents had dragged her to art museums, drilling her on artists’ names and their works. Kind of took the fun out of visiting a museum for a five-year-old. Her parents would be appalled at her simplistic analysis of the Chihuly blown-glass sculpture in the foyer. The towering structure’s assemblage of dozens of twisting orange, yellow, red, and blue blown-glass pieces resembled a sea serpent’s tentacles.

  “Looks like something out of a sci-fi movie.” Ryan’s voice broke her trance.

  “Exactly,” she muttered, shocked by his simplistic analysis.

  She turned to him and sucked in a breath of awe, almost bursting the zipper on her dress. The onyx button covers on the crisp white shirt matched the color of his hair—as silky as his tux jacket’s satin collar and not a strand out of place. She fought the urge to run her fingers through his hair, giving it a sexy, tousled look. Was sleeping with a client really as taboo as your boss?

  The corners of his mouth curved into a smile as his gaze traveled the length of her dress, then slowly back up. Cassidy felt like she was on the auction block at Sotheby’s.

  “You look great,” he said. “Love the color.”

  “You look pretty snazzy yourself.”

  She popped a piece of shrimp in her mouth to keep from gaping. The zesty cocktail sauce increased the heat on her cheeks. Henri’s signature sauce. Crap. The caterer hadn’t yet forwarded a contract. How had she forgotten to follow up with him? She made a mental note to call him back. He’d never run out of shrimp at a reception unlike several other caterers. Her neck stiffened. She shoved aside thoughts of clients flippin’ out over a run on shrimp.

  A waiter passed, and she snagged a glass of champagne from his tray.

  “Nice turnout.” Ryan scanned the crowd, appearing unaware or at least unfazed that most women’s eyes were on him. He peered back over at her. “Didn’t realize you were attending.”

  “Wanted to make sure you didn’t bring a date.” Her purpose for being there was to check out event planner Erica Turner, not how incredibly sexy Ryan looked in a tux.

  “Ryan,” Veronica’s voice lilted across the foyer.

  Ryan turned discreetly to Cassidy. “She’s not with me.”

  The woman sashayed over, champagne in hand. Two inches lower and the plunging neckline of her purple beaded gown would reveal her belly button. This was Milwaukee, for God’s sake, not Oscar night in L.A. The lights danced off the purple-and-gold body glitter speckling her chest, drawing even more attention to her breasts spilling out.

  Ryan didn’t seem the least bit intrigued by her dress, or lack of one. Although he’d undoubtedly seen her without any dress on. A bolt of jealousy shot through Cassidy, causing her body to go ramrod straight and her shoulders to square, pushing out her breasts.

  Veronica placed a proprietary hand on Ryan’s shoulder and leaned into him. “So, how have you been? Haven’t seen you in eons.”

  Eons? She’d just seen him at the beginning of the week. When she’d claimed she never wanted to see him again.

  “Fine, and you?” Ryan’s cool tone did nothing to deter the woman’s advances.

  “Super,” Veronica chirped. “I’m sure you’ve been busy with this whole The Dating Game thang. Your aunt sure was a hoot, thinking you’d find a wife on some game show. By the way, Daddy’s here somewhere. You’ll have to be sure to say hi.” Her gaze skittered through the crowd, as if desperately seeking out her father when the mere mention of him accomplished her goal of reminding Ryan that Daddy was his client.

  “I certainly will. Would like to reconfirm our lunch next week.”

  “I’m surprised you have time for lunch. You must be so busy looking for a fiancée.”

  Cassidy glared at Veronica, fighting the urge to dump champagne over her head. However, a wet dress would cling even tighter to her breasts. “Good thing the rules stipulate that anyone who approaches Ryan is immediately disqualified, or he’d be really busy.”

  Veronica’s eyes filled with panic, and she discreetly slipped her hand from Ryan’s shoulder. She shot Cassidy a saccharine smile. “Seems you’re breaking the rules a lot lately.”

  “I’m not interested in marrying Ryan.”

  Veronica’s look said yeah right before her gaze darted determinedly off into the crowd. “Oh, there’s . . . somebody I know. I’ll talk to you later. I want to be sure to say hi to everyone who’s here. Ciao.” A flutter wave good-bye and she strutted across the foyer, away from spoiling her chance at becoming Mrs. Ryan Mitchell.

  “That woman’s a real trip,” Cassidy said, relaxing her shoulders.

  “Certainly is.” Ryan massaged a finger around the rim of his champagne flute, and tingles spread throughout her body.

  She glanced up, mortified to find him watching her be turned on by his finger. “Thanks for the sunglasses,” she said, changing the subject.

  “You’re welcome. Figured if you ever encounter the paparazzi, you’ll need to be undercover.”

  So it was a business expense rather than a gift.

  “You’re a quick learner,” she said.

  “It’s easy when I have a good teacher.”

  She took a long sip of champagne, studying him over the rim of the glass.

  “Hi, Cassie,” said a man behind her.

  Her stomach dropped. Only one person called her Cassie. It’d been six months since she’d seen him, since he’d refused to believe his sister had framed her. Avoiding their favorite hangouts was easy; a lack of funds had restricted her social life. She slowly turned toward him.

  “How’s it going?” Nick smiled wide, attracting attention to his teeth, which were even whiter than she recalled. He was average height and build with brown hair and brown eyes. Quite blah looking, actually. Nothing striking about him, unlike Ryan.

  “Good,” Cassidy said, jutting out her chin.

  What the hell was Nick doing h
ere? He’d never attended a benefit in his life.

  Ryan and Nick exchanged introductions.

  “So, you’re looking at getting married.” Nick proceeded to pump Ryan for information on his forthcoming engagement.

  That’s what he was doing here. He hadn’t paid a hundred and fifty bucks for a plate to benefit Children’s Medical Center but rather to benefit himself. He wanted Ryan’s business. What if Nick mentioned he and Cassidy had worked together? One thing might lead to another and . . .

  “So, what’s new?” She plastered on a smile, desperate to change the subject.

  “Not much, how have you been?”

  “Busy.”

  “Haven’t seen you around town.”

  “Been busy.”

  “Can’t believe it’s been six months since—”

  “Can’t believe it’s fall already,” she interjected, heart racing. Was he purposely toying with her?

  “Any plans for your birthday?”

  Nothing like hitting below the belt. He knew damn well she dreaded her thirtieth birthday next month. Actually, he didn’t know that, since she hadn’t dreaded it until six months ago when her life was suddenly worse off than when she was twenty years old.

  “I’m having an intimate dinner party prepared by Chef Hummeau at my house,” she lied.

  “Very nice,” Nick said, massaging his chin, clearly impressed. It took a lot to impress him. His family came from old money but not nearly as much as Ryan’s.

  “Should be.”

  He glanced back over at Ryan. “So your wedding is going to garner a lot of national attention. You want to make sure you hire an experienced planning company.”

  She couldn’t believe this loser was pitching his business right in front of her!

  Ryan smiled. “I did. I hired Cassidy to plan the event. And to also find my bride.”

  She about choked on her champagne. Heart racing, she fought to keep the panic from reflecting on her face. What happened to keeping her identity confidential?

  Nick’s expression bore a mix of surprise and confusion. His gaze narrowed on her. “I didn’t realize you were back in the industry.”

  She cleared her throat, preparing to warn him she was back with a vengeance, but merely muttered, “Yep.”

  He quirked a curious brow. “Well, I better go grab a drink.”

  They exchanged good-byes, and Nick disappeared into the crowd.

  “What an ass.” Ryan’s concerned gaze narrowed on her. “Are you all right?”

  She stared at him in disbelief, speechless.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. The guy was such a jerk I had to tell him you’re the planner. He’s a competitor?”

  She nodded.

  “Hopefully he doesn’t spread the word and businesses start harassing you.”

  Hopefully Nick didn’t leak the scandal so she’d get fired and To Have and To Hold could step in and save the day. Even though Ryan thought Nick was an ass, the company was by far the city’s premier planning company. She’d thought she’d have the entire wedding planned before Nick discovered her role. And now that Nick knew she was playing matchmaker, she couldn’t fail.

  Ryan had to fall in love with the perfect woman!

  Needing air, she spied a path in the crowd behind him. “I’ll be back.”

  She brushed past him and strategically weaved her way through the throng of people toward the exit. She finally escaped out a side door, where she darted over to the far end of the terrace, stripping off her shawl, welcoming the first cool evening in weeks. A gust of wind blew off the lake, loosening wisps of hair from her French twist. She took a calming breath, but her chest felt constricted, like she couldn’t get enough air.

  Taking several calming breaths, she stared out at the lake. The sky stretching over it was void of stars or a moon. The only lighting came from the cityscape behind her.

  Why hadn’t she moved back to Chicago where she’d never see Nick again? Because she refused to run away from her problems and home to her parents and admit she was a failure, no longer working for or engaged to the co-owner of the city’s most prestigious wedding company. Chicago held nothing for her. She hadn’t kept in touch with any of the snooty, competitive girls from her private school, who’d gone on to Harvard and Yale. Lucy was Cassidy’s first true friend.

  Nick had been her first serious relationship. She’d worked under him for a year before they’d become involved. Although he was indirectly her boss, her attraction to him had been too strong to ignore. She’d admired his drive and determination. Like her, he came from money, but he’d wanted to prove he could make it on his own. He’d worked seven days a week growing the family business, making it the most prestigious wedding planning company in the city. She shouldn’t have been shocked when it turned out he was more committed to the business than her.

  “Are you all right?” Ryan materialized at her side, concern etched on his face.

  She forced a smile. “Fine, just fine. You should get back in there. Might miss your chance at winning that sculpture made of old motorcycle parts.”

  “Don’t think it would really go in my condo anyway.” He wore an apprehensive smile. “So, who exactly is Nick Winston?”

  “Nobody. Believe me, absolutely nobody.” She turned back toward the water, unable to face Ryan and the situation at the moment.

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  For some reason, she did want to talk about it. She wanted to spill her guts, confessing every sordid detail about her old job and Nick. Keeping the past from Ryan felt wrong. And it would make her look even guiltier should he discover it on his own.

  A gust of wind blew off the lake, and the scent of Ryan’s musky cologne infiltrated her entire body. She wrapped her shawl snuggly around her.

  “Would you like my jacket?” he asked.

  “No thanks, I’m fine.” Just what she needed. To be wrapped up in his scent and body heat.

  He leaned his forearms against the iron railing. They stared out at the lake in companionable silence, listening to the waves lapping against the rocky shoreline. She had to tell him about the scandal. But what if he fired her? What if he didn’t believe her? A sick feeling tossed her stomach. The evidence was quite convincing. Nick had believed his sister over Cassidy.

  But rather than her professional reputation slipping away, she panicked at the thought of Ryan slipping away . . .

  This was so not good!

  “I don’t like beer,” he said, gazing out at the water.

  “Ah, what?” She tried to calm her anxiety and focus back on the conversation. “You don’t like beer?”

  He turned toward her, straightening. “More like I detest it. I would rather eat an entire pigeon pie than drink beer.”

  “Wow, that bad?” His honesty was refreshing, and surprising. She also appreciated him changing the topic and lightening the mood.

  He nodded. “Wouldn’t look good for the heir to a brewery to hate beer.”

  “Yeah, not the type of thing you’d want to get out.”

  Ryan trusted her with his secret?

  “Believe me, I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  He smiled and a dimple creased his cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes. She parted her lips but licked them rather than blurting out her confession, too. He eyed her mouth, then leaned over and brushed his lips gently across hers. She returned his kiss, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, which she welcomed without hesitation. The kiss deepened as he slid his arms around her waist and beneath her shawl, caressing her bare back, sending chills throughout her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting against the warmth of his body.

  He drew his head back slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes, gazing at him through a haze of lust. Why was he stopping? This felt wonderful. He tasted wonderful, like champagne and . . .

  She felt his cell phone vibrate against her waist. That was why he’d stopped. She reluctantly stepped back, a
nd he slipped his arms from her waist. He grabbed his phone and glanced at the caller ID.

  “Business?” she asked, knowing the answer.

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

  “I have to go.” She turned and bolted. She didn’t want to hear that work was more important than kissing her.

  • • •

  Ryan watched Cassidy disappear inside the museum. Why the hell had he checked his phone? Instinct. Not to mention, he didn’t know what to say after kissing her. The call had gone to voice mail; he slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket rather than check the message.

  What had he been thinking kissing her?

  That he’d like to strip off her sexy little black dress and take her right there on the terrace.

  Instead of satisfying his hunger, it had only served to increase his obsession with her lips. She’d nibbled off her red lipstick during her confrontation with that Nick guy, leaving her lips naked, ready for the taking.

  Not only was this the first time he’d seen her wear something so revealing, but the first time he’d seen her look vulnerable, lacking confidence. He was waiting for her to give that Nick guy a verbal beating, rip his character to shreds. Instead, Ryan had felt the need to come to her rescue, which she hadn’t seemed particularly thankful about.

  Although she’d been receptive to the kiss, she’d left pissed off. What if she quit? What if he never saw her again? It wasn’t just the fact that she was knee-deep in this damn fiancée hunt, but he wanted to see her again. The aching in his groin was a testament to just how badly he needed to see her. Yet it was this same aching that had brought on a potential paternity suit and had also led to being blackmailed by Serena. Besides, Cassidy wouldn’t be satisfied with casual sex. She’d want a fairy-tale romance. She deserved a fairy-tale romance.

  “Here you are,” Alex said, walking up.

  “Came out to get some air.”

  “Just saw Cassidy leaving. When I asked where she was going she said, ‘the hell outta here.’ You two have a spat?”

 

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