“Great idea to get your friends to help. I’m going with you, too.” He hadn’t even raised his voice at her, although she might feel a little better if he had. While Grant spoke to his friends, she checked her phone and found two angry texts and one voice mail from Tristan asking why she wasn’t at work.
She braced herself for Tristan’s ire then called him back.
“Where in the bloody hell have you been?” he asked the moment he answered.
“Sorry. I’ve had an emergency at home. I’ll be there before the party starts. I’ve sent out a ton of invites from here, and I’m confident a lot of those people will show.”
“I’m sorry, but who gave you permission to conduct your work from home? I need you here, now.”
She glanced at Grant, pacing the room as he spoke into his phone. The worry etched into his face was plain. Tristan, on the other hand, hadn’t even asked her what her emergency was. “As I said, I’ll be there in plenty of time for the event. That’s the best I can do. I’m needed at home.”
Grant looked up in surprise at her last statement. It must have come out a bit more forcefully than she’d intended.
“Now listen here,” Tristan sputtered into the phone. “You’ll be lucky to have a job when you arrive.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll do my very best to get there as soon as I can, but it’s probably going to be at least a couple hours. Bye.” She shut off her cell and offered up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t be too angry with her: Please let Tristan cut me some slack.
A moment later, Grant ended his call. “That makes six guys from the firehouse so far. They’ll be here soon. I think I can get a couple more.”
“I’m going to clean up and change to wake myself up. I’ll be ready to head out to look for Sarge as soon as they get here.”
Grant gave her a thumbs-up as he pressed buttons on his phone, but he didn’t appear much more hopeful than he had when she’d told him about the cat.
Under a hot shower, she scrubbed off the sweat and dirt from the night’s search. Only the guilt remained when she’d finished, like the sticky adhesive residue on a jelly jar after you’d removed the label. She still had to tell him about accidentally invading his privacy with the house contract, too.
Would Grant keep his cool after he learned of that breached trust? She shuddered with dread as she dried off.
Things had been so good between them in New York. Sure, Grant was the antithesis of the sort of man she’d been searching for, but maybe she needed to reevaluate what she wanted out of a relationship.
It was probably a moot point now since she’d screwed things up six ways from Sunday by leaving early. And then after she’d arrived back in Miami, she’d added insult to injury by losing Sarge. How had she messed up so badly in the span of a few short minutes?
At the sound of the doorbell, she hurriedly dressed in shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers then headed to the living room where a few of Grant’s buddies were already waiting.
Grant stood right next to the table where she’d left the envelope containing the contract from his ex-wife, the same envelope Niki had accidentally opened. Which he’d never believe. But she’d purposely tried to ascertain what was in the envelope, even if she hadn’t removed the contents. She’d royally screwed up.
She could barely breathe. “Ready?” she managed. Hooking Grant’s arm, she steered him toward the door.
“We’re still waiting for more of the guys,” he said. “But I’m sure they’ll be here any second. Let’s meet them out front. Got your phone?”
“It’s almost dead, but I have it,” she said.
Minutes later, Niki set out on round two of the search for Sarge, this time with eight beefy firemen fanning out in all directions, each armed with a plastic zipper bag containing a handful of Sarge’s favorite cat treats. She crossed her fingers that this time they’d find the cat. They would. They had to.
An hour and a half into the endeavor, her high hopes were beginning to fade. Circling their block, she ran into Grant. His tank top and shorts were drenched in sweat, and his expression was grim.
Niki’s heart sank. “Grant, I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “Could have happened to me just as easily. Sarge has always been an escape artist. He’d have given Houdini a run for his money.”
“Grant?” The elderly lady from across the street called from her porch.
He waved. “Hello, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“Can you come here?” the woman asked.
He groaned under his breath. “Let’s hope she just has pastries for me.” To Mrs. Rodriguez, he said, “I’m kind of busy right now. Is it important, or can it wait until later?”
Niki’s stomach growled at the reminder of the pastelitos the woman baked. She really didn’t know how Grant could keep from inhaling the whole tray whenever the kind old lady sent some over.
Mrs. Rodriguez shrugged. “I guess it can wait. Is it okay for your orange cat to eat baked salmon? He just came into my yard a few minutes ago. I didn’t add any spices because of my gallbladder problems. But he looked so hungry. I hope it’s all right that I fed him. Just my leftovers, of course.”
Grant’s eyes widened as he looked at Niki then back at their neighbor. “Is he still at your house?” Grant was already halfway there.
“Well, he’s not inside the house because of Alfred. I fed him on the screened back patio and left him there. I wasn’t sure you wanted him roaming around, so I thought I’d ask before letting him go. It is okay, right?”
Grant disappeared around the back of the house, leaving Niki to explain about Sarge’s disappearance.
After Niki told Mrs. Rodriguez the story, the elderly lady insisted that Niki and Grant stay for dinner.
“I wish we could,” Niki said. “But I’m already so late for work. We’ll take a raincheck, though.”
“Yes, we will.” Grant appeared with Sarge in his arms, an unreadable expression on his face when Niki started talking about having skipped out on work.
Niki’s eyes watered at the sight of the cat. “Oh, Sarge.” She couldn’t stop herself from joining them and nuzzling the tabby’s fur.
The cat gave her a salmon-scented kiss that was a little gross but made her heart melt all the same.
After they got home, Grant called his buddies to give them the good news and tell them that he was ordering pizza for everyone as a thank you. “Sure you can’t stay?” he asked Niki.
“I’ve got to get to work. Hopefully I still have a job.”
“Hey,” he said softly. “I appreciate your help finding him. You didn’t have to jeopardize your London plans for us.”
“I’d do anything for that cat.” She waved away his thanks and hurried to her room for another quick shower. Ten minutes later, she returned to the living room and found most of the guys had returned.
As she picked up her purse, her gaze landed on the envelope in Grant’s hand—the same envelope she’d accidentally opened.
She didn’t want to, but she forced herself to meet his stare. Anger she could have dealt with, but what she found in his eyes was way worse. There was a profound sadness and disappointment that cut straight through her.
He set the letter back down on the table then strode toward the kitchen. “Who wants a beer?”
An invisible weight pressed against her chest.
Grant’s friend Josh gestured at a few of the others. “Actually, we have to get going. Glad you found your cat, bro.”
In a matter of a minute or two, the house cleared out of everyone except her and Grant. Not that she blamed the men. The tension in the air was as thick as the rich guava filling in Mrs. Rodriguez’s pastelitos.
Grant returned to the living room with an open bottle of beer. “Want to tell me how my mail ended up torn open?” He sat on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table.
At least he was giving her a chance to explain before he threw her out and never spoke to her again.
For a mome
nt, she thought about sitting down, but considering that she was jumpy as a silver ball inside a pinball machine, she chose to remain standing. “I’ll be honest with you. My curiosity went bananas when I saw Carrie’s name on that letter.
When Grant’s eyebrows rose, she realized how that must have sounded.
She held up her hands. “Not that it’s any of my business. I mean, you and I are… Well, I messed things up. I just remembered how hard it was for you to talk about her, and how you’d moved out of the bedroom you shared with her.”
God, she was rambling, which she only did when she was nervous. And Grant probably knew that. She drew a steadying breath before continuing. “So I read her name on there and…” Hell, this honesty thing was tough. “The envelope was under the door, and I checked the seal to see how secure it was. It was mostly open. I don’t think I would have gone through with actually opening it if it wasn’t. I don’t think. Then my cell rang, and I got startled. My finger was already under the flap, and the noise caused me to jump. That side of the envelope tore and ended up looking like a kindergartener had her way with it.”
Grant smirked as if he was having trouble believing her. “And did you take it out and read it?”
“No.” She gulped so loudly she was sure he’d heard her. “But I might have held it up to a light and managed to see what it was.”
He looked away. God, he couldn’t even bear the sight of her.
She slouched. “That’s the truth. I’m sorry.”
“So you didn’t read the contents?”
“No, just the heading on the contract,” she said. “It was wrong, a terrible thing to do. I apologize for invading your privacy. If you want me to move out, I will. But the truth is…” She sucked in a breath and gathered her courage. “The truth is that I was afraid. I didn’t want you to leave. And part of me might have wondered if Carrie wanted you back. Because she was such an idiot to let a wonderful guy like you go.”
Grant stood up and closed the distance between them. Towering over her, he stared down at her, big and imposing, a little scary. “You feel that much for me, huh?”
She stared up into his eyes. All the vulnerability she felt was in them, too. “You know I do. I already pretty much told you I do in New York, and you told me to go.”
“I didn’t— I don’t—” He scrubbed a hand over his face, blowing out a sharp breath as he did so. “I didn’t want you to go. But since we’re laying everything out there…” His voice was firm, but his eyes looked as afraid as she felt. “Come with me,” he said softly, holding out his hand to her. “Instead of going to England, come to New York.”
All she had to do was reach up and take it. It would be so easy. Until it wasn’t. “I don’t know if we’re ready for that. Are we really there?”
Would he say what she needed to hear? She waited, and in his expression she saw the turmoil, the uncertainty. How did he feel about her? She had yet to hear the word love, or even some iteration of it. How could she gamble her future on a place she hardly knew? On a man who obviously wasn’t sure of his feelings for her?
Convince me, Grant.
Instead, the silence just stretched out between them. Something shuttered in his eyes, and all the warmth and naked emotion in them was gone. If she hadn’t just imagined it in the first place.
“Farm life isn’t for you. You know it, and I know it.” He dropped his hand and nodded. “You’d better get to work now.”
Damn it. She suddenly wanted farm life to be for her. He would never know how much. “Right. See you when I get home.”
“Sooner than that. I’ll be there for that party at Heatwave. You need bodies, right?”
Her stomach fluttered. How could he go back to being so casual? “Seriously? After all I’ve put you through today?”
“I’ll see if I can get a few friends to come.” He stepped back then tipped his chin toward the door. “Get going. See you at seven.”
Too choked up to speak, she just nodded then left.
When she was almost at work, she steeled herself for Tristan’s inevitable anger. Sure enough, the moment she entered the club, he hit her with both barrels.
He was standing near the main bar with a drink in his hand. His eyes narrowed to slits when he saw her. “There’s the princess now, coming in when she bloody well feels like it. I ought to can your arse.”
Her shoulders tensed. God, she’d been through so much in the past few hours. Tristan’s crap was the last thing she needed. “I’m sorry I’m so late. It couldn’t be helped.” She took some satisfaction in using his passive phrasing.
“I’m not so sure you know where your priorities lie.”
With the people I care about, not you. Niki felt her face flush in anger. After all the miracles she’d pulled off for this man, and she couldn’t even take a few hours for a genuine emergency. “Can we speak in your office?”
The bartender cleared her throat and started washing some glasses that appeared to be clean already.
Tristan set his drink on the bar a little too hard and strode toward his door.
Niki followed him, determined to stay professional but have her say. Before he could continue his tirade, she cut him off. “I want you to know that even though I wasn’t able to be here earlier, I was working from home on filling up the guest list. We should have a full house tonight.” She wondered how many of her family and friends would show up. “I really do have my priorities in line. Would I have left my vacation early if I didn’t?”
Then she let all of the insults she’d been ready to lob at him fade away on her lips. London was all she had left. She couldn’t screw this up. But she straightened her spine and looked him in the eye all the same.
He looked up at her from his desk and folded his arms. “You have a point there.”
Damn right she did. After stashing her purse in the office, she spun on her heel and went right to work without another word, calling the list of press contacts Tristan had given her and checking every detail about the event.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, she’d changed into a sparkly gown she’d brought with her, and she was ready for the hordes. At least, there had better be hordes after all of her work. And media there to cover them, too.
She walked out of the back offices, taking in the décor—she’d personally overseen placement of all the floral arrangements and inspected every catering cart of appetizers. To her everlasting relief, the line of guests waiting to get in stretched around the corner. She almost collapsed against the wall just to breathe, but she managed to control the impulse.
Tristan’s friend Emmett wore a big smile, so at least he was apparently pleased with the showing so far, even if his troll of a friend wasn’t. She tugged on her boss’s arm as she walked up to him and whispered in his ear. “Looks like Emmett’s impressed.”
Tristan set his hand on the small of her back. “A big man admits when he’s wrong. You’ve done a marvelous job with this.”
She couldn’t hold back a grin. “Thanks. So I’m not fired?”
“Of course not. How could I fire you when you’re handling the Fourth of July party in two weeks?” He laughed, but she wondered how serious he was.
She just shook her head and walked away, determined to stay far away from Tristan and enjoy the night as much as she could while working. As the place filled up, the energy grew along with the noise level. The ten-piece band, with full brass and percussion sections, ran through a vibrant song list of top 40 hits, popular Latin songs, and music that was a combination of the two, like the latest Pitbull and Yandel selections. Even area sports stars from the Marlins and the Dolphins showed up, as well as two local DJs.
Niki greeted reporters, chatted with people she knew and some she didn’t in between checking on the bars and the food stations. This frantic pace was the part of her job she loved most.
When she spotted Lucy, Dex, and her parents, she went over to greet them. “Hey, thanks for coming.”
“This pl
ace is gorgeous,” her mom said. “Great idea to have a photo booth. So fun!”
Dex kissed her cheek. “Love the music.”
“You look beautiful,” her stepdad told her. “I love the make-your-own-cake-pops station.”
Lucy gave her a hug. “What a great party. That retro games thing you’ve got going in the VIP lounge is absolute genius.”
Niki squeezed her sister’s hand. “Thanks so much for coming.”
Lucy swept her arms through the air. “This is why I asked you to help with my pre-wedding planning, even though I made you relax during the ceremony and party. You’re a natural. I couldn’t have had a wedding without you.”
Niki balked. “What are you talking about? You’d have done fine without me.”
Lucy gave her head a firm shake. “I asked you for a reason. You’re fantastic at planning parties. You have a gift.”
“Really?”
Their mother nodded. “You’ve always had that talent, honey.”
Niki couldn’t believe they actually thought she was truly good at something. She’d assumed that Lucy had asked her to help plan the reception because she’d been so busy with work and getting her condo ready to sell.
Lucy stepped closer, speaking loudly over the music. “Don’t you remember all the stuff you did for Mom’s wedding and for Elena’s baby shower when she was pregnant with Logan, and you were only a teenager at the time?”
Their mother nodded. “You were fantastic.”
Niki thought back and realized they were right. She’d always been the one to do the lion’s share of the planning any time there was a party or a big event for the family. Finally, there was something she did better than Lucy. Apparently, she was the only one who hadn’t realized that.
Someone took her hand and pulled her away from her family.
Grant?
Her mood lifted even higher. Until she turned and saw that it was Tristan.
“Dance with me, love,” he said.
Love? That’s the word he used when asking her to clean up doggie do. A slow song started, and he pulled her close before she could say yes or no. She smelled the strong mints he kept in a jar on his desk, and her stomach turned.
The Best Man's Proposal (The Hamilton Sisters) Page 16
