"What?"
"You actually fit in that?"
By way of a reply, he asked, "Can you drive a stick?"
"I'll have you know I drove a jeep through the Serengeti desert with a pack of hyenas chasing me and my crew. At night."
Can I drive a stick…really.
"You're doing it again."
"What?"
He just cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Oh. Right. Sorry." Giving his car keys a shake, she answered, "Yes, I can drive a stick."
"Here. Let me move the seat back so your knees won't be crammed under your chin." "Maybe you should've splurged on a bigger model," Aubrey suggested as she helped him into the passenger's side. "You know, zero percent financing and all that."
"Says the girl whose credit card debt keeps her up at night."
She was ready with her counter argument by the time she slipped behind the wheel. "Yes, well, the raise I should be getting after today ought to help with that."
To which he replied, "It's not what you make that matters. It's what you do with it."
She turned to him, frowning. "Where did you say you went to college?"
"An accredited institution of higher learning," he replied with a smile that told her End of discussion.
Must have been a community college.
Deciding not to push it, she asked, "So, if you have this, why did we drive my car out here on Sunday?"
"I wasn't sure how you felt about me yet."
"What does that have to do with it?" she asked as she shifted the car into reverse and looked behind her before pulling out.
He rolled his head against the headrest to face her. "I couldn't have you falling in love with my car before you fell in love with me."
Aubrey gave him a sideways look. "You're joking, right? It would have to take a really sweet ride to make me fall for a guy's car before I actually fell for him."
"Oh, now the truth comes out. What kind of car are we talking?"
Letting out a delighted giggle, she replied, "Oh, I don't know, maybe a Ferrari or a Porsche." Then after a couple of beats, she changed her tune. "No, not a racecar. Something elegant. Classic but slick, you know? Like a Maserati."
Before he could answer, she shifted into first gear, turned on the radio, and exclaimed, "I'm so jealous. You actually get FM stations."
"Yes, but you can still play cassettes in your car."
She gave his arm a light punch after which he winced. "Easy. I just got crushed by a girl with a busted parachute."
"Oh, OK," she laughed. "Playing the injured boyfriend card. I see how this relationship is gonna go."
She could feel his eyes on her as she kept hers on the road. "Correction. I'm playing the injured fiancé card, and yes, this is exactly how this marriage is going to go."
She took his left hand in hers, lifted it to her lips, and kissed it. Giving him a quick sideways smile, she mouthed Bring it.
* * *
When Mac woke up the next morning, every inch of his body ached. Easing onto his side, he watched Aubrey get dressed for work from the comfort of his twin bed in which she insisted he sleep so she could keep an eye on him all night.
"Good morning." Aubrey swept over as she ran a brush through her hair and asked, "How ya feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a Mack Truck." He tried propping himself up on his elbows before giving up and sinking back into his pillow.
"But I was so gentle with you last night." She teased as she sat on the bed next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Want some ibuprofen?"
"Nah. I can get it."
"OK, how about a haircut? The wedding's in two days."
It's in three, but OK.
"Duly noted," he said with a reassuring nod.
"You sure you're gonna be all right?"
There was no mistaking the eagerness in Aubrey's eyes. Assuming she wanted to get to work and find out what her editor thought of the piece she submitted late the night before, he gave her a smile. "Absolutely."
She leaned over him. "Oh yeah? Sure you couldn't use a little mouth-to-mouth?"
Apparently Aubrey's eagerness did not stem from getting her editor's reaction after all.
After a ten-minute kiss good-bye, Mac didn't even try to prop himself up enough to watch Aubrey get dressed for work. Again.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
"Text if you need anything," she called out before she left.
Sleep. I just want to sleep.
She had no sooner walked out the door than she came through it again, staring at her phone.
I was this close.
"Forget something?"
Kicking off her shoes, Aubrey put on a tentative smile. "No. My editor just texted."
She held up her phone and read out loud, "Great piece. Stellar job. Announcement going out this afternoon. See you Monday."
Mac scooted over and pushed back the blankets. "Get over here."
They woke up at noon.
With the remainder of the day sprawling before them, Aubrey rested her head on his chest and started ticking off the possibilities. "We can grab some lunch, I can take you for a haircut, we can swing by Nana's to tell her the good news."
"Which?" Mac asked as he combed his fingers through her hair.
"Both, of course. Promotion and proposal."
"Here's an idea. We grab some lunch and head downtown so we can get our marriage license."
Knowing Aubrey regretted rushing into her first marriage, he braced himself for her pushback.
"And then go to Nana's?"
Apparently, there was no need.
Their near miss at the drop zone the day before only heightened their combined life's too short mentality.
"And then go to Nana's," he promised.
She pulled the covers back. "Race you to the shower."
* * *
Dear Plate Spinner— Several months back, I solicited your advice on a particularly delicate family matter involving my grandson's reluctance to fulfill a term in his father's will.
While it was excruciatingly last minute, I am thrilled to inform you that my grandson claims he has found his true love with just days to spare, and she has agreed to marry him. I would also like to inform you that while I heeded your advice, in the end, it was my grandson's rather ingenious plan to go undercover as a pauper that did the trick.
Still, as a show of gratitude for your candid response, you will see a sizable bonus in your next paycheck.
Claire lowered her sandaled feet from her desk to the floor and sat straight up in her chair.
All the best with your newest little one.
Sincerely,
Wit-less (aka Allison Delaney, interim CEO, Griffin Media, Inc.)
Claire muffled a scream with the palm of her hand.
She was reading through the letter for a third time trying to process that she was being rewarded for delivering a snarky response to the head of Griffin Media when Sara blew into her cubicle and sat on her desk.
Holding her latest model cell phone in front of Claire, she asked in a hushed voice, "Did you see this? It's trending on Facebook."
The two watched raw video of John's proposal in Daley Plaza that ended when he dipped Aubrey after they danced.
"What?" Claire nearly shrieked. She stood up and peered in the direction of Aubrey's cubicle.
"She's not there. Dianne gave her the day off."
"Why?"
"Don't know. She said the announcement would be going out this afternoon."
Claire's face fell. "Oh no. She was afraid of this."
Sara sucked in a breath. "You think she got sacked?"
Lifting both shoulders, the advice columnist said, "I don't know. I haven't heard from her all week. Have you?"
"No."
"Do you have Teddy's number?"
"Already tried her. She claimed she doesn't know anything. Even after I tried bribing her with tickets to the Coldplay concert."
"Yeah, those two go wa
y back."
Remembering the bizarre letter she had just received, she picked up the heavy stock paper and showed it to Sara. "Check this out."
Sara looked more than a little puzzled when she had finished reading it. "Do you still have the first letter?"
"Oh, yep, here." Claire reached into her desk drawer to retrieve it.
After reading them both, Sara looked at Claire. "What was John's last name again?"
* * *
"Delaney. MacLyn John Delaney."
Aubrey took in her fiancé wearing jeans and a gray polo, his hair still a little damp from the shower, leaning across the counter at the County Clerk's Office.
My fiancé.
Her heart swelled, and suddenly she didn't care if he graduated from high school, let alone college.
He had saved her life.
And he loves me.
"May I see your ID, sir?"
Mac dug his wallet out of his pocket, thumbed out his license, and handed it to the staffer. After she examined it, she handed it back.
"OK. If you two would wait right here. This should only take a few minutes."
Aubrey watched as she disappeared behind a door with their marriage license application. Feeling Mac run his hand up and down her back, she turned to him. He broke his grin just long enough to give her a kiss. "I'm excited."
"These are only good for sixty days, you know."
He pulled a face. "Who waits that long to get married?"
With a laugh, she replied, "Most people wait at least that long."
"Good thing you and I are not most people."
"Very true."
A thought occurred to Aubrey. "You know, after yesterday, I'd really like to get you on my benefit plan as soon as possible."
He just gave her a look that sent a low volt of current to points south and everywhere in between before whispering, "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard."
"Thanks for waiting." The staffer had returned and handed over the certificate along with a large manila envelope. "Please check the spelling, and ensure all of the information is correct."
Aubrey gave it a once-over. "Yep. Looks good."
Mac shimmied it into the envelope, and they made their way down the hall to the elevator.
Not sure why she felt the need to make this happen right here, right now, Aubrey pointed up. "You know, we could just pop upstairs and—"
He turned on her. "What happened to waiting until after Nick and Mattie's wedding?"
Aubrey bit down on her upper lip as tears started to pool in her eyes. Working hard to keep the wobble out of her voice, she started, "When we fell, that landing—"
He cut her off with a kiss. "I know." He lifted her chin. When she met his gaze, he repeated, "I know, and I'm so sorry that happened."
She lifted both eyebrows and whispered, "I just don't want to chance it. Seeing you there on the ground, your eyes closed. It was Max all over again."
Mac held her close until her breathing slowed. When it did, he took her by the shoulders, his assuring gesture of choice. "Repeat after me."
"Repeat after me."
He pursed his lips into a smirk. "Really?"
"Sorry."
"No more thinking about the past."
Aubrey repeated his words.
"Only right this minute and all of our tomorrows yet to come."
"Aw." She broke into a dreamy-eyed smile.
"Say it."
"Something, something…tomorrows yet to come. Got it."
"Good."
They had only gotten a few more steps when she asked, "So when do you think we—?"
"How does Sunday grab you?"
"It grabs me just fine."
"Good. Now call Nana, and tell her I'm hungry."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead." —Benjamin Franklin
Friday morning, exactly one week after their coffee shop encounter, Aubrey reluctantly tugged her engagement ring off of her finger and gave it back to Mac for safe keeping before she headed out for brunch with the rest of the bridesmaids, followed by mani-pedis, and then back to the groom's mother's house for final fittings and to help set up for the rehearsal dinner before heading to the church.
"You sure you're going to be all right?" she asked Mac before she left. While Mac hadn't complained about any residual pain or achiness from their crash landing, she could tell by the way he moved that he was still feeling it.
He waved her off. "Golf this morning might be a challenge, but I think I can manage the Cubs game this afternoon without too much difficulty."
Within the hour, Aubrey floated into LuLu's, a trendy upscale breakfast place on the north side. "I'm meeting friends," she explained to the hostess. "Mattie Ross?"
"Oh, sure. Right this way."
She followed the hostess onto the brick-paved patio filled with flowers and sheltered by a number of white canvas umbrellas. The air was infused with the aroma of cinnamon French toast and sizzling bacon.
Sara's voice carried over the din of chatting diners. "Aubs. Over here."
"Hey, stranger," Claire called out as Aubrey took her seat.
They were the only three there.
"Am I early?" Aubrey asked, checking the time on her phone.
"No, everyone else is late."
A waitress in a cute white puffy-sleeved blouse bent in front of her. "Hi. My name is Sally. I'll be your server this morning. Can I start you off with a cocktail?"
Aubrey looked at her companions. Claire, of course, was sipping iced tea. Sara, on the other hand, was working on a Mimosa. Pointing at her, she said, "I'll have what she's having, minus the OJ."
Then she eased back in her chair, unable to keep a smile from spreading across her lips.
"I feel like I haven't seen you guys for a year. So much has happened."
Sara leaned over. "So, we hear congratulations are in order."
Aubrey started. Hoping she meant the promotion, she replied, "Aw, thank you. I don't know if you heard what I had to go through to earn it, though."
After exchanging a glance with Claire, Sara asked. "Earn it?"
She caught both friends trying to get a look at her left hand. "Oh my gosh. Well, let me back up. Dianne said the only way I'd get it was if I'd jump out of an airplane, which I did two days ago. Well that was my second jump. I did my first jump on Sunday."
The confidence in her voice threw them both.
Claire leaned forward. "Wait. What? You jumped out of an airplane? Twice?"
With a smug nod, Aubrey then spent the next several minutes regaling her friends with her adventures in sky diving, carefully omitting any mention of Mac and his heroics. For the time being anyway.
By the time she had finished, the rest of the bridal party had arrived, the champagne kept coming, and merriment commenced. The brisk walk to the nail salon did her a world of good and kept her from getting tipsy to the point of prematurely sharing her big news with her friends.
It did leave her fantasizing, though, about how she'd like her own wedding to roll, if she only had the time to plan. Venues, reception menus, and the like filled her head until the reality of her financial situation burst her bridal planning bubble.
Sporting firecracker-red fingernails and toenails, they each took turns slipping into their handmade firecracker-red strapless fitted gowns as Mrs. DeRosa examined her work. Not one needed any further alterations. Not even mom-to-be Claire's.
Aubrey slipped home to change into a cute little black strapless cocktail dress that she paired with a black half-sleeved sweater embellished with tiny rhinestones to wear in the church and if it got chilly later.
By the time she joined the rest of the bridesmaids at the church, she found that Mattie was sparkling with excitement, making it that much harder for Aubrey to mask her own joy.
While others were chatting with the wedding coordinator, Aubrey noticed the bride-to-be blinking back tears.
"What's wrong, Mat?
"
Waving her hands in front of her eyes so as not to spoil her makeup, she laughed, "I'm just realizing how lucky I am. I'm so in love with Nick. It's a miracle that we ended up together." She laughed as a couple of tears escaped. "And now you and John…I'm just so happy, Aubs."
Aubrey gave her head a quick shake. "Whoa. What?"
Mattie laughed, "It's OK. We've known for a couple of days now. You two are all over the internet."
Recalling the crowd of spectators in Daley Plaza, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised, but still.
Damn cell phones.
She grasped Mattie's hands. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. We just didn't want to steal your thunder, you know?"
Through her usual Susie Sunshine grin, her friend replied, "Good news doesn't spoil other good news, you goof. It just makes it all bigger and better."
Willing to tie herself up in knots to not detract from the wedding, Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief and, for the first time in days, was very much looking forward to the festivities. Especially now that she not only had a plus one but would be marrying him in two days.
* * *
Mac had just arrived at the golf course situated along Lake Michigan just south of Montrose Harbor as Nick was introducing Lester Crenshaw, publisher of the Chicago Gazette and acting father of the bride, to the rest of the guys.
"And this is John Trelawney."
Taking Lester's hand in his, he did his best to communicate Just go with it with his eyes.
With a quick nod, he was relieved to see that Lester caught on. As soon as he was able to pull him aside without arousing suspicion, Les said under his breath, "You haven't told them?"
"No, not yet."
Lester looked out over the course as the rest of the party went ahead of them. "So who's the lucky girl?"
At this, Mac turned to him with a smile. "Aubrey. She's in the wedding party. You'll meet her tonight."
"Travel writer?"
Mac looked at him. "Yeah, that's right."
They walked a few more steps when Lester asked, "And, she doesn't know either?"
"No. And I'd really prefer to keep it that way until Sunday."
Flight Risk Page 17
