A Prior Engagement

by Karina Bliss

Instead he found Lewis and his buddies. “How about that soccer game?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JULES WATCHED LEE walk away and told herself not to take it personally. He needed perspective on yesterday and that probably meant avoiding the person who reminded him of it for a few hours.

  “...he got a bit miffed when Nate told him he didn’t need a bodyguard in li’l ol’ backwater New Zealand and sent the entourage away.”

  With an effort, she attempted to pick up the thread of Claire’s conversation.

  “So we figured if we gave him an ego assistant, someone to give him drinks but not too many, listen to his stories, maybe keep him moving if he gets stuck...”

  Jules’s brain synapses made the connection. Zander Freedman.

  “...and who better than someone who’s had a massive crush on him since she was thirteen?”

  “Wait...me?” She had too much on her mind today to appreciate a hedonistic rock star.

  Her friend laughed delightedly. “I knew you’d be thrilled! C’mon, let’s go introduce you.”

  Can’t someone else do it? Jules swallowed the words and jollied up her expression as she followed her friend. Claire had arranged this as a special treat and she wasn’t going to spoil it.

  Even if Zander Freedman hadn’t been chatting to Nate he would have been easy to distinguish as a rock star. In this sleepy seaside settlement he looked both incongruous and completely at home wearing a Stetson with a hatband of silver buckles, cowboy boots and a chunky collection of chains and rings.

  A few respectful feet away, other guests clustered in small groups, either trying not to send him surreptitious glances or talking and laughing loudly in the hopes of attracting his attention. He looked like a matador surrounded by bulls. Any moment they might charge.

  “Zander, this is Jules.” Claire drew her forward. “She’s your local minder.”

  “And she’s engaged,” Nate cautioned. “So no moves.”

  “Invitation only.” The rocker’s grin dazzled her. “Got it.” Close up he was classic Hollywood with very white, very even teeth and a perfect tan. In his crystal-blue eyes she read wariness and a royal’s expectation to be amused. But then he had been famous for a very, very long time.

  There was something surreal about shaking hands with a guy whose poster had hung on her bedroom wall when she was a tween.

  She told him so and his eyes glazed over. “That’s great, honey.”

  “It’s okay,” she said drily. “I got over you.”

  “Thank God. I need to be drunk to deal with rabid fans and I’m pacing myself.” He swigged from a silver hip flask. “Until I’ve cut the ribbon or whatever the hell Nate needs me to do.”

  “Smash a bottle of champagne against the hull,” said Nate.

  “There we go,” Zander drawled. He draped a proprietary arm around Claire. “You know, Captain, I was kinda hoping you and I would become a lot better acquainted today.” He grinned over at his former bodyguard like a misbehaving teenager daring a parent.

  Nate just laughed.

  Jules wasn’t sure if she was amused or appalled by her former hero. Either way, she sensed that keeping him out of trouble would keep her busy. And with Lee avoiding her she needed to be kept busy.

  Over the next hour she was both efficient and thorough. She made sure Zander’s flask was filled with his favorite Grey Goose vodka; she steered him from group to group, saw that he wasn’t monopolized and filled in gaps in conversation when he couldn’t be bothered.

  Lee still didn’t come anywhere near her. It shouldn’t hurt but it did.

  She did get one reprieve when Zander left to smash the champagne over Heaven Sent’s hull and pose with Claire, Nate and Lewis for photographs. He talked to Lee afterward but, clinging to her pride, Jules kept her distance.

  “Jules.” Ross limped over. “Can I have a quiet word?”

  Uh-oh. Jules put her game face on as they walked out of earshot of the other guests.

  “Has anything happened we should know about? Something’s off with Lee.”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to talk to him about that, Ice.”

  “So I’m right?”

  “I’m not confirming or denying—”

  “Fine, I’ll confront him.”

  And have Lee think she tattled on him? Jules grabbed his arm. “This is something Lee will raise with you when he’s ready. In the meantime—” counterattack was the last defense of a desperate woman “—we’d both appreciate it if, for once, you minded your own damn business.”

  “Fair enough,” he said mildly, then surprised her by smiling.

  “What!”

  Ice gestured to her ring. “You’re going to keep that.”

  He’d limped away before she could deny it.

  “How’s the house sale going?” said a man beside her.

  “Nick.” She smiled, then glanced around for Lee. “What are you doing here?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “I’m dating the manager of the marine company that supplied the new canopy.” He pointed out a redhead talking to Claire. “Have you met Veronica?”

  “What...no.” Jules was still scanning the crowd.

  “So any update on your decision to sell to me? The deadline’s in two days.”

  “Is there any chance you’d reconsider my leaving the company as a condition of purchase?”

  “None,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t think it’s good for the firm—which is why I’ll leave if you manage to sell your house—except a little birdie told me it was off the market.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in the estuary swimming with the sharks?” she asked.

  “It’s your choice, Jules,” he reminded her. “I’m not holding a gun to your head.”

  She sighed. “I know. And the lottery didn’t come through for me so I guess I’m saying—”

  “No,” Lee said behind her. “She’s saying no.”

  Nick turned, surprised. Needing a moment to rein in her temper, Jules did not. This wasn’t Lee’s call; neither was it the place for a scene.

  His arm snaked around her waist. Lee jerked her against his body in a parody of affection and reached across her to shake Nick’s hand. “How are you doing?” he said. “I’m Lee Davis, Jules’s fiancé.”

  Nick had a reputation for reading judges and he clearly saw a hanging one in Lee because he absented himself within thirty seconds of exchanging pleasantries.

  “Make sure you invite us to your farewell drinks,” Lee called after him.

  Grabbing his forearm, Jules twisted free to face him.

  “How dare you?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “How dare I?” His eyes glittered more than the estuary. “You said he’d buy your shareholding at the same price, you never mentioned you’d lose your job! Are you bent on bankrupting yourself over me? I just don’t get it. I’ve said I can wait for the money.”

  “I pay my debts...and particularly to you. Every loose end will be tied up by the end of next week.”

  “What are you so afraid of? That I’ll use the money to leverage myself into your life?”

  “I can’t give any man a hold over me,” she said.

  “I’m not some asshole boyfriend of your mother’s who’d pull the rug out from under you when you least expect it.”

  “Lee,” she reminded them both, “you already have.”

  His jaw set, but he was called away for a group photo with his
former SAS buddies before he could rebut her argument. Jules would talk to Nick on Monday.

  “I need a drink,” she said glumly.

  “Finally, you’re interesting,” a gravelly voiced man said from behind her, and Zander materialized holding his ubiquitous flask.

  “Do you talk to everyone like this?”

  “Like what?”

  Jules sighed. “Never mind.” Her gaze dropped to his flask.

  “So, you want a drink?”

  “I probably shouldn’t...”

  One of his fair eyebrows lifted, reminding her who she was talking to. To hell with it.

  “Yes, please,” she said firmly.

  “Wait here.” He returned with a glass half-filled with clear liquid and crushed ice, and a half-full bottle of Grey Goose vodka. “In case we need refills.” He gave her the glass. “Take the edge off before you cut yourself.”

  “You really have a way with words.”

  “I’m a genius songwriter, what can I say?”

  Jules sipped her drink and gasped as it vaporized the lump in her throat.

  “Neat,” Zander said, “is the only way to drink vodka. Purists like me lose the ice... Let’s go sit by the water.”

  They settled on the grassy bank overlooking the estuary, some fifty meters away from the party. The rocker tipped his flask to her glass. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.” Cautiously Jules took another sip. The vodka was icy as it slid down her throat but with a lovely liquid after burn that warmed the cold in the pit of her stomach.

  Zander gestured to her engagement ring. “Your bling’s better than mine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jules took another gulp.

  “I met your guy. that’s quite some miracle story you and Lazarus have got going.” Idly, he picked a stalk of grass. The sun glinted off the silver buckles on his hat. “I love military stuff. I collect war memorabilia, have a library full of military memoirs. I guess it’s the fascination of the overindulged for a life motivated by duty and sacrifice.” He grinned. “Don’t want that life, can’t understand why any rational person would choose it, but I admire the hell out of those—like your fiancé—who do it.”

  He’s not mine. Jules took another sip.

  “So anyway, which is it?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Are you drinking to forget, drinking for fun or drinking to numb?”

  “The last one.” Jules frowned. The alcohol couldn’t be going to her head already, could it? She tried to remember if she’d eaten breakfast. She definitely hadn’t eaten lunch.

  Her gaze drifted to Heaven Sent, now bobbing at the end of the pier gangplank. On deck, Nate drew Claire into his arms, removed her captain’s hat and kissed her.

  Jules clutched the icy glass harder. Zander half turned to see what she was looking at. “Aw, sweet,” he said. “So what’s with you and Lazarus avoiding each other?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  He turned back. “In your place, I’d be locked in a bedroom shagging my true love’s brain out.”

  “We...we’re here to support our friends.” Jules gulped another sip and changed the subject. “What’s it like living permanently in the spotlight? We got a lot of press interest immediately after Lee’s release—I didn’t like it.”

  “I liken it to swimming with sharks.” Zander paused to take a swig from his flask. “Exhilarating, addictive and occasionally painful when the paparazzi take too big a chew. But worth it.”

  And yet in the bright sun he looked slightly burned around the edges as he dangled his legs over the edge of the bank and kicked away chunks of clay with the heels of his cowboy boots.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” Jules said. “It erodes the bank. See how the council has planting agapanthus to try to stabilize the soil?”

  Zander scoffed but stopped and lay back on the grass. Legs still dangling over the bank, he covered his face with his Stetson. He lifted a peremptory hand. “Flask.”

  Shaking her head, Jules passed it to him. “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  There was really no reason to like him, yet strangely she did. Tucking her legs underneath her, she sipped her vodka and watched the shadow of a stingray glide past on the outgoing tide. Numbness, she decided, was nice.

  “I’m surprised we’re being left in peace,” Zander commented. “And more surprised I like it.”

  “Nate asked everyone to respect your privacy once the formal part of the day was over.”

  “How much would it take to get him back in L.A., d’ya think?”

  “I’d say you had no chance through the fishing season, but you might tempt them in our winter. Work on Lewis, Claire’s son. That kid’s dying to go to Disneyland.”

  “Thanks, I will. Nate was the only employee I ever had who had my best interest at heart. Real friends are hard to come by.”

  Jules lifted her glass. “Cheers to that.”

  “So what do you do for a living?” He made work sound like a disease.

  “I’m a lawyer.” A soon-to-be-unemployed lawyer. She reached for the bottle of Grey Goose.

  “Ugh,” said Zander. “Some of my least favorite people.”

  Jules laughed as she refilled her glass. “You’re mean,” she said. Yet oddly restful. “Even I feel like a good person next to you.”

  “Even you.” He chuckled under his hat. “So what have you done...pulled out an agapanther?”

  “Agapahtas,” Jules corrected him. “Wait...agatapus. You’re right, it is hard to say.” Putting down her glass, she picked a daisy and started picking the petals off it. She caught herself playing “he loves me, he loves me not” and stopped. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Not really, but I can do with the practice. What did you do?”

  “Lied,” she said. “A lot. And now it seems I’ve been lying to myself, as well. If there’s a flame, can you blame the moth for wanting to keep banging it?”

  “I think you mean, banging into it, but I like your version better.”

  “I turned down this guy, then changed my mind, then he came back and blew it, so I turned him down again, only he’s not even the same guy I loved except in a way we’re more suited because the wounded part of me understands the wounded part of him, if that makes any sense.”

  “None at all,” Zander said lazily.

  “I know, right?”

  Jules dropped the stripped daisy and picked up her glass. “I’m really confused.”

  Tipping his hat up, he turned his head. “I’m thinking that if you want to keep this secret, honey, you probably need to stop drinking.”

  “You’re probably right.” Jules lifted the glass to her lips and the rocker plucked it from her hand and replaced it with his flask. “Here.”

  “How’s that gonna help?” She sipped it. “Ugh...water.”

  “I tip out the hard stuff and replace it when no one’s looking. And now you have a secret of mine you can’t tell. It’ll keep us both honest.”

  Sitting up, he patted the breast pocket of his shirt and bought out a packet of cigarettes. Catching Jules’s eye, he shrugged. “One vice at a time.”

  After a couple of puffs, he stubbed the cigarette out on the grass and tossed the butt into the estuary.

  “That’s pollution,” Jules pointed out.

  “One fish with a nicotine addiction. How can it hurt?”

  In companionable silence they watched it float away.

 
; * * *

  FROM HIS POSITION leaning against the bar, Lee watched Jules laughing with the rock star and something in him relaxed.

  Maybe he hadn’t traumatized her yesterday. Now he just had to stop the bloody woman taking three steps backward in her career. Scowling, he turned to find three pairs of eyes fixed on him.

  “Zander’s honorable,” Nate said. “In his own twisted way.”

  “And Jules won’t take any crap,” Ross added.

  Dan handed him another orange juice. “Lee’s never been the jealous type, have you, mate?”

  But the same bloody woman was right about leaning on his buddies. Lee decided to ease his way into it. “Depends whether the architect shows up,” he said.

  The three men gaped at him. “Jules told you about Mark?” Dan asked.

  “Not so much tell, as show-and-tell,” he replied. “I’ve known for a while.”

  They looked stunned. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Ross demanded.

  “Perhaps I was waiting for one of you to.”

  They exchanged glances and Lee relented. As if he wouldn’t have shot the messenger. “It’s okay,” he conceded. “In your situation I would have done the same thing.” Impossible to reveal information like that without being a squealer.

  “You would?” Nate asked carefully.

  “Of course.” He was a little peeved at the implied slur.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Dan replied. “We’ve been flaying ourselves over this ever since you were found.”

  Lee was touched by the depth of his buddies’ emotion. “It’s not an easy thing to tell.”

  “All the women thought we should stay out of it,” Ross confided. “But Jules was so damn lonely...and we knew you’d want her to be happy.”

  Lee looked over at Jules. “Yeah, I want her to be happy.... Wait—what?”

  “Our criteria was to find someone you’d approve of,” Nate said quickly.

  “And Jules only went as a favor to us,” added Ross. “No one was more surprised than we were when they hit it off. Turned out we’re good at this shit.”