by Olivia Miles
“No. Kiss me.” She blinked, shocked by her own words. It was rash, impulsive, and completely desperate. She was probably sending him all the wrong messages. But she didn’t even care.
For once, she wasn’t thinking about the ripple effect of her actions. Or what she would say in five minutes. All she could think about was the here and now. And that if she didn’t have time to run and hide from the people who had publicly humiliated her, the most she could do was prove to Jake—and Charlotte—that she was over it. That they hadn’t hurt her. That she was just fine.
Alec’s smile vanished from his face, replaced with a look of surprise. “What?”
“Kiss me,” she repeated breathlessly, her mind racing. She hadn’t even contemplated the possibility that he might turn her down, laugh in her face, storm off. It would make it all worse—seal her humiliation. “I need you to kiss me. Right now.”
Alec’s expression was frozen and for a moment Kate was struck with the horrifying thought that he would drag this out, or turn it into a joke. She didn’t have time for that. But then his brows lifted and his lips curled into a devilish grin. “If you insist,” he murmured, reaching down to scoop his arms around her waist in one smooth effort.
His kiss was anything but shy as he pressed his lips to hers, pulling her so close to his chest she could feel the heat of his body through his shirt.
Her knees went a little weak as she let herself go, and for a moment she wasn’t even thinking of Jake or Charlotte at all. She wasn’t thinking of the hurt, the pain, or what would happen next, when they broke apart. She wasn’t thinking of anything.
Abruptly, she stepped back. A flicker of what she recognized as desire passed through Alec’s eyes and she inhaled deeply, forgetting that they were in a public space, smack in the center of Harbor Street, that people were watching, and that the person she had wanted to witness this could be standing right beside her by now. All she knew was this moment: the heat of Alec’s skin still close to her, the way his cotton T-shirt felt under her fingers, the way the shape of his body felt under her palms. The way his strong hand still rested on the curve of her hip. The way she wanted it to graze lower…
She turned and scanned the sidewalk, looking for any sign of the ghost that had caused her such a fright.
“I’m sorry, Alec, I have to go.”
She’d been reckless. Careless. This wasn’t her. This was something Charlotte would do.
Charlotte. The calls. She was back. In town.
She hadn’t realized fully until this moment just how much she truly didn’t want to talk to her.
Alec lifted his grip on her arm, halting her in her tracks, his voice husky and rushed as he said, “Is everything okay? Kate? Have I done something?”
“I have to go,” she said, not bearing to look at him as she turned and fled, down a side street, her eyes wide and watchful, searching for any sign of her sister.
She needed to get home. She needed to be away from here, from the people and the possibilities of running into Jake. Of seeing him and his smiling, smirking face. She needed to get away from the lure of Alec’s voice, calling after her, his tone filled with so much worry and confusion that she wasn’t sure she could keep going.
Or if she even should.
Chapter Sixteen
Any doubt that Meredith was trying to drive Kate out of Bride by Design was reaffirmed the next morning when she asked Kate to cover a meeting she had at a potential wedding location for a new client.
“Bluestone Manor?” Kate couldn’t believe she’d heard that right.
“Is there a problem?” Meredith asked calmly.
Damn straight there was a problem. Bluestone Manor was a two-hundred-year-old mansion set at the top of the breakers, with a breathtaking view of the sea. It was also the place Kate was supposed to be married. And the place she hadn’t been to again since she’d had to cancel the reservation, getting back only a fraction of the deposit her parents had so generously given for the wedding.
Kate shifted uneasily on her feet, suddenly aware that she hadn’t answered the question yet and that her boss was staring at her with a look of naked impatience.
“No problem at all,” Kate said tightly.
“I would have gone myself, but I have a conflict with Sally Schofield,” Meredith clarified, making it clear that even though Kate might be filling in for this venue viewing, she was not taking over the account.
Still, Kate thought, she couldn’t afford to mess this up, and that was exactly what she would do if she let her emotions get the better of her.
She left the office quickly with the signature soft pink folder Meredith handed her for Bride by Design’s newest clients. A year had passed since she’d been to Bluestone Manor, but the drive up the winding, tree-lined path to the edge of Misty Point felt familiar, bringing her back to a time and a place she’d tried so hard to forget. To feelings of hope and excitement and possibility. Had she known the last time she’d visited for her menu tasting that it would be her last, that the salmon they’d selected would never be eaten by their guests, that she would never have her picture taken with Jake against that stone wall in the rose garden or under the weeping willow at the far edge of the grounds?
Of course she hadn't. She’d been too caught up in the excitement, the beauty. The details. She’d stopped listening to the little voice in her head that told her Jake might not be the one. That something didn’t feel quite right.
The road was nearing the peak of the cliffs, and Kate steeled herself as the large stone mansion came into view. She pulled the car to a stop, allowing herself one long look from a distance, one last chance to accept what had come of those dreams, before she shook the cobwebs clear and drove over the gravel path to the discreet parking lot, tucked out of view from the mansion by a dense boxwood hedge.
Her legs felt unsteady under her as she made her way across the path to the front door and into the expansive lobby, set up like an old English library, with warm wood tones and soft lighting and fresh cut flowers overflowing from crystal vases.
The couple was waiting at the base of the curved staircase, whispering to each other in excited tones as she approached. “Eve and Christopher?” she asked, just to be sure. “Congratulations on your engagement,” she said, shaking their hands. “I’m Kate Daniels, a planner at Bride by Design.”
Eve, a pretty brunette with big green eyes, nodded. “Meredith mentioned you would be meeting us. She said you were quite the expert on this place.”
Oh, did she? So this was payback for doing her job and finding the lace, it would seem.
“I am quite familiar with Bluestone Manor,” she agreed. And just for Meredith’s comment, she was going to give them a tour to top all others.
With that mission in mind, she led through the many rooms of the house, describing the history of the home as they walked, and stopping to point out the little details that she’d always thought would have made her own wedding day so special.
“There’s an option to have the reception in the main ballroom or here,” she said, leading them into the dome-ceilinged conservatory at the back of the house.
She didn’t need to look at them to sense their excitement, but even so, she couldn’t seem to steal her eyes away. The groom was a little out of place, as most of them were, taking the bride’s lead, standing just a bit behind. But it was her face he was looking at more than the surroundings, as if her wish—her happiness—was what mattered the most.
Kate felt a tightening in her throat, and she cleared it. Awkwardly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you have a look-see, and then I’ll be back to get your thoughts.”
She hurried down the hall toward the bathroom. She knew her way, of course. Her cheeks were flushed when she caught her reflection in the large mirror above the marble sinks. Her eyes were wet.
This was a test. The worst one yet. And she was going to pass it.
She took a few long breaths, forcing herself to imagine how much worse it woul
d have been to end up married to a philandering cad, not just merely engaged to one. It was definitely better to focus on that than, say, the cherub-cheeked children they might have had, running along the sand…And really, Jake might not have even wanted children. Every time she mentioned things like that, his brow would knit and he’d grow strangely quiet.
Yep. A red flag. A big one.
Better off without him.
Before she slid back into that bad place again, she pulled open the bathroom door and walked slowly back to the conservatory. She hovered in the doorway as the couple walked around the room hand in hand, admiring the lead-paned windows and gilded sconces. A year later, the room was even more beautiful than she’d remembered, not that she tried to think of it much. The glass-enclosed space lent panoramic views of the rose garden to the stretch of vibrant green grass leading to the cliff, and the bright blue sea beyond. A grand piano was tucked in the corner. To its side was where the band would play, and over near the row of mirrors on the sole windowless wall in the room was where the head table would be positioned. She’d imagined sitting at the center, looking out onto her guests and the beautiful view beyond.
Nope. Not going to go there. It wouldn’t do her any good now, and today she had something to prove. Not to Meredith. Or Jake. Or Charlotte. But to herself.
It was time to get over the pain of her past once and for all. And what better way than to face the ghosts right here, where they haunted her the most?
By the time she’d led the couple through the rose garden and watched them walk off to their car, looking back a few times to take in the building, she felt completely sure that not only would they choose Bluestone Manor for their wedding location, but also that Meredith would find nothing to complain about.
But somehow, that wasn’t enough anymore. Instead of fantasizing about walking back into the office to see Meredith pleased with her work, or perhaps even miffed by it, all Kate could think about was how much better it would feel to march in with her resignation letter.
“Kate?” a voice called out as Kate began walking back into the lobby to retrieve the manor’s updated brochure to bring back to the office.
She turned, smiling weakly when she saw Gretchen Trager coming toward her. She’d been hoping to dodge her old contact at the manor, but it would seem that luck was not on her side these past twenty-four hours. The universe was determined to throw her old life back in her face. And she had no choice but to confront it.
Kate gave Gretchen a hug hello and pulled back, about to ask how business was going when she saw the head tilt. Of course. A year may have passed, but despite everything that happened between their last meeting and today, one thing was still on Gretchen’s mind.
“How are you?” she asked, squinting with obvious compassion.
“I’m great. How are you?” Kate managed to smile a little wider, eager to proceed with normal, present-day conversation, and not go back to that dark time in her life.
But Gretchen wasn’t buying it. She paused, her eyes roaming Kate’s face as her neck crooked a little lower. “I’ve thought about you,” Gretchen continued, and Kate gritted her teeth into an even wider smile. She had an urge to make up an excuse (Off to see a fake boyfriend, perhaps? One by the name of…Henry?), say goodbye, and turn to go. But despite her delivery, Gretchen was being kind, and Kate couldn’t overlook that.
“It’s been a busy year, but not as busy as this summer will be. But then, I don’t need to tell you that.” She gave a lame laugh, hoping to draw on the camaraderie those in the business had for spring and summer seasons, when, at least in Misty Point, most people chose to get married.
“So you’re keeping busy then. Good. Good.” Gretchen was nodding, her gaze still one of far too much sympathy.
“Busy, busy,” Kate said, feeling her pulse quicken. The grandfather clock was beginning to chime, just like it had the first time she’d come here with Jake, hoping to convince him that this was the perfect venue for their wedding—far better than that sterile and stuffy hotel his parents preferred. He’d agreed just as the clock began its first bell and kissed her right there in the lobby. Now, hearing those bells, she was right back there for a moment. Full of hope and anticipation and joy. So much joy.
“I should actually run,” she said, waving the brochure awkwardly for no reason other than her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Suddenly the lobby felt stiflingly hot, old and musty. She needed to get outside, breathe in the sweet, salty air, and be alone. Away from the head tilts and the soft voices and the squinted eyes and the subtle head shakes. “Wedding season beckons.”
For some, she thought, blinking quickly.
“Of course, of course. I’m relieved to see how well you’re holding up,” Gretchen said, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze.
The hand squeeze. Yep, it was officially time to leave.
The clock continued to chime as she marched through the front door, the bells fading into soft, sorrowful reminders as she made her way to the car and drove away, and she kept driving, without any route in mind, until Bluestone Manor and all the wonder it had once held was far behind her.
* * *
Charlotte sat on a park bench eating her lunch of salt and vinegar chips and a cheese sandwich. A year ago she wouldn’t have been caught dead eating like this, but back then she was still young and carefree and, well, boy crazy.
Still, this paunch wasn’t going to disappear on its own. She’d have to start eating better. It would be part of her new life plan. Once she had her life figured out, that was.
Suddenly the door she’d trained her eye on opened. Her heart skipping a beat, Charlotte sat a little straighter and quickly brushed the crumbs from her lap. She held her breath, waiting for her moment, as a man she did not know casually pushed through onto the sidewalk and hailed a passing cab.
Charlotte slumped back on the bench, miserably bringing the sandwich to her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so disappointed. After all, was she really looking all that forward to seeing Jake the Snake after all this time?
That was an affirmative no. Sure, she’d loved him once. Or thought so. Now…she wasn’t sure. How could she love a man who would take advantage of her like that? He had used both Kate and then her, and he had no interest in that precious little girl he had never even met. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t need his help, or anyone else’s for that matter, but it wasn’t a perfect world, and she’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Ten thousand dollars. That’s what he had given her that day she’d shown up at his office. Not ten thousand dollars to help his baby. Not ten thousand dollars to take responsibility or offer help. No, Jake had given her ten thousand dollars to go away and never bother him again.
And because she was alone, and pregnant, and broke, and because he looked so angry with her, questioning if the baby was even his and making it so clear that he wanted no part of any of this and wouldn’t come around and change his mind, she took it.
And now…all these months later, it was nearly gone.
She checked her watch. Forty-five minutes until she was due back in the insurance office. Forty-five minutes to turn her life around and demand justice once and for all.
As she waited, she fed some birds the crusts of her bread, one eye locked on that shiny brass door, knowing he would appear at any moment. And when he did, she’d go up to him, ignore the surprise in his eye, and tell him not to worry, she wasn’t here for him; no, she was here for Audrey, their daughter, and for the child support he owed her.
She swallowed hard, shifting on the hard park bench that was making her back hurt where they’d stuck that awful epidural needle in her back. It had made so much sense this morning on the bus ride into work. The thought of going back there was so terrible and her future had felt that dim that she finally realized she had no other choice.
She’d avoided Jake all these months. Let her pride stand in the way of her well-being. But it wouldn’t stand
in the way of her daughter’s well-being.
She blinked, realizing what she was saying. She glanced over at the door again. She could wait all day, or she could cross the street and ask the receptionist to buzz his office, maybe threaten a little scene if he didn’t comply—that man had always cared far too much about his image, God knew.
Or she could stand up and leave. She could swallow her pride the way she should have, the way she wanted to, the way she’d been trying to do. Neither Jake nor Kate had taken any of her calls in months, but this wasn’t the park bench she should be sitting on. No, the real person she needed to confront was her sister.
Jake might cough up more money, so she could keep living in that awful apartment, scrambling for work, still wondering how to make things right. But Kate…Kate could offer her a family again. The family she wanted to give her child.
Kate wasn’t going to answer her phone calls. That much was certain. So that left her no other choice. She’d have to face her head-on.
Charlotte stood up and tossed her half-eaten bag of chips in the trash. She was never one to dillydally once she’d set her mind to something. And one thing was now decided.
It was time to go home.
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth was already soaking her feet in bubbling, rose-scented water when Kate pushed through the door of the salon fifteen minutes later than their designated meeting time.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said a little breathlessly as she eagerly shed her shoes and hung her handbag on the coat hook. It wasn’t like her to be tardy for anything, but if the past year had taught her anything, it was that she was human. And she’d just needed a few minutes to collect herself before she proceeded with her day. And that had meant going home and taking Henry for a walk, with an extra lap around the park.
“No problem. I’m just sitting here, luxuriating.” Elizabeth smiled and closed her eyes. “No one tells you that one of the perks of getting married is being able to pamper yourself for days beforehand. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks.”
