“Really? Then you haven’t looked very closely. How many weddings have you been to?”
“A lot. Most of my friends and colleagues are in their thirties, or at least their girlfriends are.” He winked. “Those darned biological clocks start ticking real loud about then.”
She sniffed and looked around to see if anyone in their row was making a move. “If you say so.”
“Dysfunctional relationship? Your mom and dad?”
“No.” She glared at him. “What have they got to do with anything? They’ve been happily married for thirty years.”
“So what have you got against weddings?”
It was a question she’d never been asked before and it took her a moment to remember why these occasions made her cringe so much. She blew out a breath of air before replying. “It just seems like such a huge waste of money.”
Matt’s face crumpled for a second and he appeared to be having a coughing fit.
Other guests were beginning to stare and Piper frantically slapped him on the back a few times. “Are you okay?” She felt panicky. Had he been chewing gum or something? “Matt?”
His head fell between his knees and she heard him draw a steadying breath before saying, “That is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Idiot.” She stood up and shoved her purse under her arm. “I thought you were dying or something.”
“I might.” He chuckled again before sitting upright. “I’m sorry I lost it there. There’s something about the way you say stuff sometimes that really cracks me up.”
She frowned down at him, not entirely immune to the laughter lines at the corners of his deep brown eyes. She took a quick look around them and was relieved to see that everyone had lost interest in them. She dropped her voice a few decibels just to make sure she didn’t offend anyone. “So you love this kind of thing? For richer, for poorer, and all that?”
He made a grunting noise and stood up. “Maybe my dad would have stuck around longer if he’d married my mother. It would’ve been harder for him to walk out, I guess.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been hard on you both.”
He shrugged and indicated that they should follow the crowd outside. “It sucked, but I only met him once, so it wasn’t like I was that emotionally attached.”
She had turned away from him, but twisted her head to see a hardness settle on his features, all the laughter gone. “Just once?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “He came to get some old vinyl LPs he’d left when I was about eight—he said they were worth a few dollars and he’d send some cash along when he could. He didn’t.” His hand gave a little push at the base of her spine to urge her forward. “I still feel like a dick for getting all excited when Mom said he was coming over. He was never interested in me.”
“I’ll bet he is now that you’ve got some money,” she said sourly and felt angry for the little boy that would have given his father unconditional love.
“Piper, I really might as well not exist where he’s concerned. He may even be dead. I don’t know and I don’t care.”
The reception room was as magical as the chapel, but more relaxed with balconies, fireplaces, and a stone-paved floor below another soaring arched roof. Real candles flickered from chandeliers, and the round tables lining three sides of the room were dressed in white and silver with a scattering of pink rose petals. Piper’s heart was in her mouth when she saw that each one had a coral tea light holder on it, tiny, fragile pieces that had taken her weeks to make, but had paid her mortgage for a couple of months. God bless Melanie!
The huge water feature covering the back wall, a replica of a waterfall, caught her eye. It was so realistic it reminded her of the one behind Matt’s cabin. She’d never seen anything like it or been to such an impressive venue before, and probably wouldn’t again, but now that she saw her work where it belonged, her mind was racing with possibilities for future commissions. And dipping back into work mode took her mind off Matt’s troubling revelation about his father.
They were seated with two other couples. She’d been briefly introduced to the Dodges at the art gallery opening, and then there were Mr. and Mrs. Computer or something like that, she couldn’t remember their names. Dull, small-talk specialists, all of them, and Piper reminded herself to mention to Matt that this was another reason she hated weddings. Being stuck for hours on end with people you didn’t know and didn’t like was complete torture.
“So dear,” Mrs. Dodge said as Piper was just about to enjoy another of the stuffed shrimp en brochette hors d’ouevres. The pink chiffon ruff of the woman’s dress reminded her of something her aunt put over toilet paper rolls, even if it had cost a small fortune. “What exactly do you do?”
There was more than a drop of saccharine in the older woman’s voice, and her first instinct was to snap back actually, nothing, I’m a kept woman, like most of you. How often do you have to spread your legs for old man Dodge there? But she managed to smile sweetly and remember her manners even though she knew damn well she was being looked down on. An outsider. Not one of the “set.”
“I’m self-employed,” she said calmly and wasn’t in the least bit surprised to see Mrs. Dodge recoil slightly.
“That’s nice…”
Piper took a long swallow of champagne and shot a venomous look at Bob Dodge, who had just pinched the last bacon-wrapped shrimp with its delicious melted cheese and jalapeno topping. It had been hers by rights, but he just grinned at her like an idiot and chewed heartily.
“I make products out of things I find on the beach.” She was deliberately making herself sound like a scavenger, but she wouldn’t want this woman wearing her jewelry in any case. Piper would never be a billionaire like Matt, and she was going to keep her soul out of the marketplace.
Mrs. Dodge’s brow furrowed so that the expensive foundation she was wearing crinkled into tawny waves like sand dunes. Her silver hair was crinkly, too, but in an extremely coiffured and hair sprayed kind of way, and Piper had noticed that she hadn’t touched a crumb of food. “How interesting,” the desiccated one intoned.
Piper primed herself to make a barbed reply but, to her irritation, Matt busted in on her. “Piper makes pretty little things like this, Pauline.” He picked up the coral candleholder and held it in the flat of his palm. “All the way from Sanibel Bay in Florida.”
Pauline Dodge’s mouth pursed into the shape of a cat’s ass. “Oh, we like it down there, don’t we, Bob?”
“So do we, don’t we, Piper?” Matt put down the candle and gave her a false, sweet grin. She could feel her face turn as red as a rougheye rockfish. How dare he bring Florida into this. Did he think this was a subtle way of warning her to behave? He smirked and ignored the light kick she gave him under the table. “Everything down there is so hot when it’s freezing up here.”
Yes, yes, I’ve got it. Shut up, Matt.
Piper smiled back and was relieved the waiting staff had just delivered huge plates of beef tenderloin medallions served with a roasted garlic and brandy sauce. A distraction and an excuse not to converse until she was done and her plate was clean. And she intended on eating really, really slowly.
“We cruise usually,” Pauline Dodge said between delicate nibbles of asparagus. “And then spend some time in Naples. At our villa, naturally.”
Naturally.
Bob Dodge coughed as he chewed a large piece of sautéed potato. “You two should pop by and visit next time we’re all down that way. How’s about next month? Not too hot, not too cold around then.”
“Next month is a very bad time for me,” Piper said quickly. “But it’s a lovely thought.”
“Say, Matt, that’s too far off anyway. How about supper at the ranch sometime this week? Just the four of us—you could bring a barrel of your beer and the little ladies could talk about weddings and babies.”
Piper glared at Matt. Not only had Bob Dodge completely ignored her, he seemed to think she was an inferior unwor
thy of being consulted. Like Matt was her master or something, his chattel to bring along to tedious soirées. Matt had better say something quickly or she’d explode.
“This next week is going to be crazy, Bob, you know that, with the new beer coming out.”
“Oh yeah,” the older man said and wiped some grease off his chin with the back of his hand. “That party at Mayor Cobbett’s is going to be something else. I can hardly wait. So after that? Let’s have a cookout.”
Matt shook his head. “Afraid that won’t be possible. I’ve been meaning to mention it for some time, but I’m leaving Passion Creek on the sixteenth, the morning after the big party.”
Man, Matt DeLeo knew how to lie to get himself out of an awkward situation. But she’d forgive him a sneaky fake excuse this time. Piper inhaled sharply and covered the lower half of her face with a napkin, pretending to dab away some sauce. She couldn’t risk anyone at that table seeing her cracking up with laughter at what he’d just announced. She would be expected to be upset about the news. Unless, of course, he was going to add that he was taking her away from Passion Creek with him. And that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Silence fell over the table, and even Mr. and Mrs. Computer looked shocked, but Piper was struggling to keep a straight face behind her crisp linen veil.
Excellent job, Matt DeLeo, awkward dinner invitation avoided with a ridiculous excuse, and they were all buying it.
Bob Dodge wiggled his jaw as if there was a piece of food stuck in his teeth. “Leaving?”
“Yes. It’s time I spread my wings and delegate my powers here in Colorado. I’ve been looking to expand my outlets for a while now.”
Mousey Mrs. Computer spoke for the first time and looked genuinely distressed. Thinking about it, Matt was probably quite a heartthrob in Colorado IT circles. “But you’re going to leave? Just like that?”
Matt nodded. “I’ve been here years now and I’ve outgrown the place.” He pushed his plate away. “I will miss you all, but Florida is next on my list. And New York—it’s been a while since I caused trouble there. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see me back.”
It was only a matter of time before awkward questions were going to get asked about where Piper fit into his plans. He could deal with the probing and she could certainly live without dessert. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” she said. “I need to visit the restroom.”
“Aw,” she heard Bob Dodge say as she walked quickly away from the table. “Looks like you’re going to break that poor gal’s heart in two.”
“She’ll be fine,” Matt said harshly and then something else she couldn’t make out as she rushed through a set of double doors. He was quite an actor and she hoped he had a fine reason stored up in that lying mouth of his for when he was still in business and pulling pints at the Railway Tavern come summer.
Piper snagged a couple of glasses of pink fizz as she legged it out of the reception room. Two glasses because she had no intention of going back in there until it was all over, the cake had been cut, and the excruciating toasts were finished. It was rude, but so were a lot of people here. She didn’t care.
“Can I help you, madam?” a young member of staff with a pristine black waistcoat asked with genuine concern in his eyes.
“I just need some air,” she said and then for some reason, possibly to inject a sense of urgency and credibility, added, “and a cigarette.”
He smiled and nodded. “This way.”
She followed him down a stone-lined corridor and then through a glass door that led onto a huge balcony overlooking the mountains. There were comfortable armchairs and low tables with heavy cut glass ashtrays, overseen by large halogen heaters that glowed with warmth in the fresh biting air.
“Do you need a light?” the young man said as she put her beer glasses down on a table.
“Actually, I need a cigarette first,” she said wryly and was met with a knowing smile.
“Any particular brand?”
“No,” she said quietly, amazed at the level of service in this place, and then felt a bolt of extreme rebellion streak through her. “Something that looks elegant, long and slim, possibly even black.”
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said and disappeared through the door.
If she was going to be bad, she might as well be disgustingly bad. She hadn’t touched a cigarette in years, although she’d never been a serious smoker. It had felt grown-up and sophisticated to smoke when she was a teenager and all her friends had tried it, but as she grew older and gave up the habit, she was ashamed to remember preaching about what an evil it was to anyone who had the nerve to light up. God, she must have been annoying. She would remember to keep her opinions to herself in the future and let people live however they damn well pleased.
“So here you are.” Matt eased through the door using a broad shoulder and strolled toward her with a sundae glass of ice cream in one hand and a silver cigarette case in the other.
“Are you GPS tracking me?”
He smiled and put the glass dish down on the table next to her glasses. “No, I don’t need to. I can feel where you are.”
Piper made a snorting noise in the back of her throat. “Gimme a break.”
“No, seriously, I asked the concierge if he’d seen a goddess with red hair. He had, I gave him a ten dollar bill, and now you’re busted.” He flicked open the cigarette case. “Now this is a bad habit.”
“Only if you can’t stop at one recreational, nostalgic stick of cancerous badness.”
“Can you stop at one?”
“Yes.”
“So why do it?”
She shrugged. “The taste, the kick, the nicotine hit, the forbidden fruit of it. It’s a stupid, expensive thing to do, but sometimes I have to do something totally evil that only hurts me.”
Matt nodded to a couple who’d just appeared about fifty yards away. “You’re not alone in that. “ She took one of the slender Nat Sherman black and gold cigarettes and he did the same. “We’re not alone.”
“Just the one, agreed?”
He shrugged. “Sure, we’ll give the concierge his silver cigarette case back pretty much intact.”
“We should leave him a tip. I can’t imagine these little beauties come cheap.”
“If you say so, but this is a very clever way of getting his fancy cigarettes for free—our room account will be debited with a pack of twenty and he gets to keep eighteen.”
She laughed. “Oh well, you’re paying.”
“Actually, yes, I am, and it wasn’t easy getting a room here for the night. I booked us in independently when I had to choose your courses for the wedding banquet.”
“You didn’t think to ask me?”
“No, I’m a control freak, remember?”
“The food was very nice. Thank you.”
He clicked the lighter into life and offered her the flame. “The bride’s parents paid for the food and drink.”
Piper lit her cigarette and took a quick puff. “Damn, did you see how that Bob guy stuffed everything that wasn’t nailed down into his face? No wonder his wife is so freaking thin and brittle.”
“She used to be a very large lady. Lost seventy pounds or something years back when they were trying for kids. Made no difference.” Matt lit his own cigarette and it made him look like a black and white film star. She melted inside. “Personally I think Bob’s been firing blanks for years after pickling himself with liquor, but that’s somewhere our conversations never go.”
“No, that’s just as well, but obviously if I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so snippy with her.”
“Forget it. She’s still a difficult, snobby social climber so don’t feel guilty.”
“Thanks.” She took another drag of the cigarette and exhaled slowly, letting its toxicity take effect, anticipating the dizzy high that would soon follow. “So tell me, how are you going to get out of that outrageous lie?”
Blue smoke curled from his sensu
ous lips as he appeared to consider her question. “Which one would that be?”
She giggled. “Doh! The one where you said you were leaving town to avoid dinner with the Dodges.”
He stubbed his cigarette out after just one puff and tipped his head to one side with an expression of regret. “It wasn’t a lie.”
“For real?”
“You sound like Pippa.”
“Pippa?”
“The lady at our table with the yellow feathers on her head.”
“Oh, her… Mrs. Computer.” Piper killed her cigarette, too. She suddenly felt sick and overwhelmed with regret. It wasn’t just because of the cigarette either. “You kept that quiet, the fact that you’re leaving very soon.”
He shrugged. “I did a shift at the Railway Tavern last night for the first time in a while. Stood there pulling at the same old taps, chewing the fat with the same old guys, talking about the same old things, and it occurred to me that I know just about every detail of their personal lives, their sex lives, their hopes and fears…and it felt like a big hand was coming out to strangle me.”
“Maybe you should reconsider your role as a bartender. That’s kind of what they’re supposed to do, right? Listen? Counsel and pour out liquid courage, tell the gang what they want to hear?”
“Exactly. Like I’m part of their lives or something.”
“But, Matt, you are part of their lives. There’s nothing you can do about that now.”
“But I can. And I am. That’s why I’m leaving and starting up somewhere new. Somewhere without vacation postcards pinned up behind the bar, thank you letters, pictures of me and the guys and big fish they’ve caught on the walls.” He sighed and looked into the middle distance toward the mountains and bright blue sky. “I don’t have a place to call home because it’s only a matter of time before you start to collect things, and then you get attached to them, irrational emotions take over, and you end up in a mess where you can’t move on. And you can’t forget things you really want to when there are reminders all over the place. The spaces where I sleep, shower, and get dressed are clean because I have control over that and they’re not really mine, but stuff comes into the tavern and I can’t stop it.”
Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer Page 13
