A Boy Worth Choosing (The Worthy Series Book 2)

by S. M. Smith

  A short, older woman in a too tight pencil skirt and too tight hair bun looks narrowly over her half-moon glasses at us with pursed lips.

  “You must be Mary,” Jessie says, laying the politeness on thick. She reaches her hand out to shake the woman’s hand with a blinding smile but gets a very serious look of sternness from the old bat.

  “Miss Jenkins, yes. You must be Miss St. James. And you are?” She turns to me with pointy black eyes and a face full of contempt. Oh, this is going to be fun.

  “Mr. Cahill. I’m Miss St. James’s fiancé and legal counsel.” I extend my hand and lay on the charm. She shakes my hand, but narrows her eyes suspiciously at me. I have to press my lips together to avoid laughing.

  “Hmm. Well, shall we?” She extends her hand out to the side of her, indicating we should go ahead of her. So I bow my head and offer my elbow to escort Jessie into the building. I hear Jessie suppress a giggle and I can’t help the mischievous grin that grows across my face.

  “It definitely has that old factory feel,” Jessie comments as we ascend the deteriorating concrete steps. We have to step aside to let Miss Mary Jenkins unlock the door.

  “Oh yes. The building was built in the early nineteen hundreds. It was an old tactile factory until the Great Depression sent it under in the late twenties. Then in the fifties, it because a canned good factory until the early nineties and has been home to many failed business ventures in the last twenty years.” Miss Jenkins’s snooty nose sniffs in the stale air and decides not to close the door behind us.

  I already used the term industrial chic to describe the outside and it appears that whoever had used the building prior had liked the idea enough to bring it inside. The exterior walls have been left the bare brick while half walls have been constructed to divide the space up and painted a hard steel color. The lighting has been updated to new age tract lights that hang from the tall ceiling. It looks like the windows that line the ceiling were recently updated too. But the outdated windows now hung from tracts bolted into the brick walls as a part of the industrial décor.

  Based on the set up, I’d almost guess that the most recent business could have been a tattoo parlor. I could just imagine that’s what Miss Mary Jenkins thought was a “failed business venture”. But if I had to guess, there’s a butterfly hidden somewhere on that uptight old broad. The thought sends unwanted shivers down my spine.

  “So is the whole building set up like this?” Jessie asks. I can already see her mind trying to calculate what it would cost to remodel the inside for offices and a secluded studio area.

  “Yes. I’m afraid it is.” Disdain drips from Miss Jenkins’s voice and this time I don’t blame her. The asking price is already at the top of the girls’ budget, so there really isn’t much room for remodeling costs.

  “And the listing price isn’t really negotiable?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid not. The previous owner needs to cover the remainder of the loan to avoid a foreclosure.”

  “I see.” I hear the disappointment in Jess’s voice, but I know that won’t stop her. And I’m correct. “Well, I won’t waste your or my time in pretending to be interested here. I understand you have a couple of other properties listed that you thought we’d be interested in?”

  Miss Jenkins lays out a couple of papers on of the half wall and starts talking properties with Jessie. I continue to look around, but find myself feeling guilty. The minute Jess said that she wasn’t interested in this property, I was happy.

  Had she fallen in love with this building, then she would be on the phone with Daphne as soon as we were in the car. Then it would be non-stop planning for setting up the new studio. Instead she’s left to keep looking, which I know is frustrating for her. But the reality is she needs to be slowing down, not adding to the list of tasks that have her going ninety miles an hour. And for that I am relieved.

  “Stephen, do we have time to run across town to look at one more place before we head back?” I turn around to find an eager faced Jessie and I feel that sense of relief escape me.

  “Sure.” I smile, though on the inside I want nothing more than to rush her home and kill the internet at her house so that she is left with nothing more than to rest and prepare for tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ~Jessie~

  So I’ve decided that peeing on a stick is a lot harder than one might think it is. I double check the written instructions that Dr. Graham gave me. How many times do I have to do this a month??

  I wait for the timer to go off and check the indicator again. No ovulation.

  All five days, twice a day and not one sign of ovulation. Dr. Graham told me this might happen but I find I’m more bummed about it than I expected to be.

  I toss the dumb stick in the trash and wash my hands before heading back to Stephen’s living room.

  “Well?” Stephen asks from the fridge. He stands up and hands me a bottle of water.

  Too frustrated to talk about it, I just shake my head no. He kisses my forehead and thankfully doesn’t say anything encouraging. I just want to focus on something else for a while so I make my way back to the couch and try to give the baseball game Grady is glued to my all.

  “What’s eatin’ you?” Grady asks, offering the bag of potato chips he’s been absentmindedly eating out of.

  “No, thank you. I don’t really want to talk about it.” He shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV. He continues to crunch on the disgusting chips, sending my annoyance level up a couple of notches. Fortunately a knock on the door distracts me. I rush over and let Daphne in, bags of food hanging from each arm and hands full with drinks.

  “Thank you darlin’. Hey boys, food’s here.” She rushes right past me and heads to the dining room table to unload.

  Grady makes a beeline to the table and I take the opportunity to mute the game. He glares at me, and Stephen, catching his look, swats him on the back of the head.

  “Hey!”

  “Well don’t look at my wife like that.”

  “Soon to be wife,” he corrects Stephen.

  “Boys. We need to make sure everyone knows who is responsible for what and when. That’s what tonight is supposed to be about.” Daphne starts opening boxes of Chinese take-out and tries to pass them one by one to Grady.

  “I will turn that game off if it becomes too much of a distraction,” she warns when he doesn’t pay attention and nearly ends up with a box of food in his lap.

  I smirk at the thought of Grady and Daphne going toe-to-toe over a dumb baseball game. I’d actually pay good money to see those two get into it. But she’s right. No distractions tonight.

  “So who is picking up the tuxes?” Daphne asks as she pulls out her thick notebook, trying to find some place to lay in on the crowded table. The thing started out as a normal spiral notebook, but has grown to be about three inches thick as she’s added post-it notes and stapled invoices and confirmation emails to pages. Most days I’m thankful she’s kept up with everything, but some days, I wish she wouldn’t take her duties so seriously.

  “I did this morning,” Grady answers before shoveling in a mouthful of chicken, not looking away from the TV. Seriously, how can he still be so hungry??

  “Oh,” Daphne says, surprised. Stephen smirks at her, and I have a feeling she’s going to be more surprised by what they’ve already accomplished or have planned. “That’s great. So next are the dresses; I have those and will be taking Shaina’s and the baby’s to them tomorrow during my lunch break. Then we have the rehearsal dinner. That will be at your dad’s house, Jessie?”

  “Yep. Janine, Mark and my dad have the dinner all planned out so all we have to do is show up,” I say before indulging in a little orange chicken.

  “Oh,” Stephen pipes in. “Dad called today. He was able to get some of the kids from the youth group to help set up the lights, tables and hay bales. They should be all set up in time for the rehearsal.”

  “Great. So then we’ll finish up placing all t
he arrangements out after dinner and you guys will be all set to leave for whatever you have planned for a bachelor party,” Daphne says nonchalantly. She doesn’t have anything to worry about. I, on the other hand, have everything to worry about.

  “Just what all does this bachelor party entail?” I ask Grady, who is evidently not paying attention. Someone kicks him from under the table and he looks at all of us, confused.

  “What?”

  “The bachelor party, Grady. What are you guys doing?” I ask again. He looks at Stephen, but Stephen isn’t getting him out of answering my question.

  “Yeah, Grady, what are we doing for a bachelor party?” Stephen asks both amused and curious.

  “He hasn’t told you what you’re doing yet?” Daphne asks.

  “Nope.”

  I feel my patience starting to slip away from me.

  “Grady?”

  “Listen. I’m willing to give you the details, but not while he’s sitting here. My good man here isn’t ever getting married again, so he tells me, so I have an awesome night planned. But I’m not telling you what we’re doing, sorry bro.” I narrow my eyes at him and he just shakes his head at me.

  “Are there strippers involved?” I ask, dead serious.

  “I can’t tell you.” He evades the question.

  “Grady, just confirm or deny if strippers are involved,” Stephen pleads. “For Jessie’s well-being.”

  “Fine,” Grady sighs. “I will confirm that strippers are NOT involved for the evening.” I stare him down before he adds, “I swear, Jess. No strippers.”

  “And no exorbitant amounts of alcohol either?” I add.

  “Now you’re just killing all my fun.”

  “Grady!”

  “Okay, fine. Some alcohol, but I promise. Your man will be of the right state of mind when it comes time to say ‘I do’.”

  Ugh. I’d rather there be no alcohol, but since he’s already complied with my no strippers, I’m not going to throw a fit.

  “Daphne?” I look up at her. I asked her not to plan a bachelorette party. The last one I was privy to turned out horribly, and honestly, with everything that is going on, I could most definitely sacrifice any last hurrah that she could plan up.

  “No party, as you asked. However, I will be staying with you at your dad’s house. I already cleared it with him.” She smiles up at me as if to say there’s no fighting me on it. And truthfully, I won’t. The idea of having her so close the last twenty four hours of my unmarried life is somewhat comforting. That is if she doesn’t drive me into wanting to murder her by the time the wedding starts.

  “Alright. So then that takes us straight to Saturday. We are to be at the salon by eleven, after which we will grab a light lunch. Then the cake and the caterer should both be there by three. Oh, Jason will be ready to start shooting photos promptly at one, so you boys will need to be dressed and at the farm no later than twelve thirty for pre-ceremony pictures. And don’t you even think about trying to sneak in the house, Stephen Cahill. You are not to see your bride until she comes out that back door, down those steps and through that garden—“

  Daphne’s run down has my head spinning. Literally, I feel the room start to spin. I grip the side of my chair and wait for it to pass, but I can’t really hear what she’s saying anymore.

  “Baby, are you okay?” Stephen’s face comes into focus in front of me and everything starts to slow down. I feel myself stabilize again. I take a quick drink of water and close my eyes to ground myself again.

  “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just taking in everything.” I smile at him, hoping that my face doesn’t give away my lie.

  “So have you figured out where you’re going for the honeymoon?” Grady asks, quickly changing the subject.

  “I have,” he answers her. Everyone stops chewing for a second, expecting him to finally give up the top secret location. But…he doesn’t.

  “Dude. You’re killing me here.” I look incredulously at Grady. “What? I need to know too!”

  “No, you want to know.” I roll my eyes at him before turning to Stephen. “I need to know. How am I supposed to know what to pack?”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about packing. I have it all under control.”

  Ummmm…I’m not sure I like the sound of that. I’ll either end up with mismatched clothing and a pair of Nikes or I’ll end up with a suitcase full of lingerie. While the second option doesn’t sound horrible, I still hope to see some part of the world. Even though it freaked me out when he suggested it the other day, I’ve decided I can definitely use the vacation at this point.

  Daphne quickly gets up and starts clearing the table of empty boxes and bags. I eye her, but she just shakes her head as if she doesn’t know anything either and I’m not sure if I believe her. I pick up the left overs and start to follow her to the kitchen to corner her when I feel a pair of hands wrap around my waist from behind.

  A kiss to my neck tells me I shouldn’t be worried that the mystery hands are Grady’s and a cheer from the table confirms that they most definitely are not.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Stephen whispers in my ear.

  “Yes.” I turn around and face him, holding the sticky take out boxes away from us. “Just so much to remember in such a short amount of time. Just got a little overwhelmed for a second. That’s all.”

  I reach up and plant a quick kiss on his lips before wiggling out of his grasp. By the time I get to the kitchen, Daphne’s already back in the dining room, wiping off the table and picking up the last of our trash. I finish my task of putting the left overs away and make my way back to the living room, snuggling up against Stephen.

  Daphne follows me in and takes up the other end of the couch Grady’s on and starts antagonizing him by cheering against the Royals. I can’t help but chuckle as Grady gets wound up by her witty banter.

  “Do you think we have anything to worry about when we leave our maid of honor and best man to themselves for two weeks?”

  “Two weeks?!” I had no clue we were going to be on our honeymoon for two weeks!

  “Don’t change the subject.” Stephen smirks at me. After narrowing my eyes at him, I glance over at the other couch where Daphne is purposefully jabbing at the Royals pitcher.

  “Nah. They can barely stand each other. Two weeks? Really?” Stephen chuckles before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me as close as he can get me. I inhale the sharp scent of his soap and lose myself in my thoughts of what everyday life will be like in his apartment. Waking up to this scent and his gorgeous green eyes every day. Coming home to his radiant smile. And falling asleep in these strong arms each and every night.

  ***

  “Here is the card from Isaiah’s shoot this afternoon.” I lay the SD card on Shelby’s desk and wait for her to turn around and face me. The finger she was holding up to indicate to me to wait falls and she finally turns around.

  “I keep forgetting to ask. The warehouse in Columbia, how did that go?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t what we were hoping it would be. The building needs more work that we can really afford and the property was severely disappointing. Plus the neighborhood wasn’t really conducive for bringing in credible clientele. So kind of a bummer.”

  She looks a little disappointed, and honestly I don’t blame her. Daphne and I have been dreaming about opening a second studio for quite some time now, and the listing seemed to have the potential to be everything we are looking for.

  “Well, we’ll keep looking and I’m sure when the timing is right, we’ll find exactly what we’re looking for,” Shelby says, trying to sound cheerful. I know she has been excited about the move. She and Isaiah have been looking forward to getting their daughter into a less busy atmosphere and Columbia is right up their alley.

  “We will. You know, I really appreciate everything you and Isaiah have done to make All Of Creation such a huge success. Thank you for adopting and protecting our dream too.”

  “How can w
e not? It’s been our pleasure. We are equally appreciative of you and Daphne both for entrusting us with such an important and exciting process of your dream. We’ve always felt a part of the family, and we can’t wait to branch the family out.” She gives me the warmest smile and to avoid crying or starting a “no, thank you” argument, I just nod and back out of her office.

  Once I’m in the hallway, I turn to head into my office but feel the world start to blur and I lose my balance, tripping and falling in the middle of the hallway.

  “Jessie. Jessie!” I faintly hear Daphne yell moments later. “Jessie, open your eyes. Jessie, can you hear me?”

  My lungs don’t really want me to inhale, but I force them to at least let me get in a couple of shallow breaths. I try to open my eyes and look at Daphne, but trying to breathe exhausts me and weighs me back down.

  Breathing becomes a little easier after a few moments and Daphne’s voice becomes a little clearer. I finally feel like I can open my eyes and look at Daphne.

  “Good, Jessie. Can you sit up?”

  “No, the operator says to not move her until the ambulance gets here,” Shelby snaps from her door.

  “Stephen just got out of court. He’s on his way,” Isaiah says, coming out of his office.

  Jason and Callie, the new intern, stand just outside the conference door staring in shock.

  “Guys, I’m okay.” I try to sit up, but Daphne holds me down and checks my temperature with the back of her hand, of all things.

  “Seriously, Daph. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You just fainted and lost consciousness for almost ten minutes.”

  A siren outside stops just outside the front door and a moment later, the doorbell chimes as an EMT walks in.

  “We had a 911 call from this address?” a short, stout man asks. Isaiah and Jason move out of the way and he finally sees me laying on the floor. He waves a taller, skinny girl in and they carry in duffle bags that look like you could fit half a body in. They have everyone clear the space around me and start asking me questions.