MY FUNNY VALENTINE
A Lizzie Hart Novella
Caroline Fardig
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
MY FUNNY VALENTINE Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Fardig
WEDDING BELL BLUES excerpt Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Fardig
Cover and teaser images used under license from Shutterstock.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my fantastic editing team: Karen Franklin, Lisa Hart-Gray, Lisa Cook, Deborah Nam-Krane, Zanna Mackenzie, and Matt Fardig. Huge thanks to my family, friends, readers, and fellow authors for their continued support and encouragement.
This book is dedicated to my funny Valentine, Matt Fardig.
CHAPTER ONE
“My hair will not cooperate!” I wail, slamming my brush down on the dresser.
My fiancé, Blake Morgan, stops straightening his tie to look at me in the mirror. Smiling, he says, “You look beautiful, Lizzie. Stop stressing over your hair.”
Easy for him to say. His hair is perfect, as usual. Every bit of him is perfect, and I always seem to find a way to be a hot mess.
Fluffing my blond hair with my fingers, I grumble, “I don’t get why we’re even having this engagement party anyway. We’ve been engaged for nearly a year.”
He takes my hands. “Come on, you know my mother will use any excuse to throw a party. If it helps, think of it more as a…couples bridal shower. After all, everyone’s bringing gifts.”
“Yeah, but no amount of gifts in the world is going to make up for when our families meet for the first time. They’re complete opposites, my mother always finds a way to embarrass me, and…and my brother will either eat all the food or tell some horribly gory med school story and make everyone want to puke! And—”
Blake gathers me into his arms. “And everything is going to be fine. Don’t spend even a second fretting over whether or not our parents will get along. We’re marrying each other, not each other’s families. Besides, with your parents living in Florida and mine in Chicago, except for our wedding, there’s very little chance they’ll all be in the same room ever again.”
I let his words sink in for a moment and feel decidedly better. “You know, you’re right.”
“Like always.”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “Yes, yes, you’re very smart.”
“Damn straight,” he says, a cocky twinkle in his hazel eyes. “Now, let’s get downstairs. I’m sure my mother has a list of chores waiting for us.”
After taking one last swipe at my hair with the brush, I let him lead me out of his bedroom and down the stairs. Since my parents and brother are in town for the weekend, I let them stay at my house and I shacked up with Blake. His parents and brother insisted on staying in some swanky hotel in the next town, so Blake and I have the sprawling estate his deceased grandfather left him all to ourselves. Well, except for the catering staff, the valet staff, and the cleaning staff his mother hired, most of whom have been here for the better part of the day preparing for the party.
Blake’s mother, Jacqueline Morgan, meets us as we enter the living room. She’s only been in town for a couple of hours, but she’s already taken over. “Oh, Blake, darling. There you are. I need you to run outside on the patio and clean up those unsightly tree branches littering the area around the pool. It’s a mess. If I were you, I’d fire your incompetent gardener.”
His mouth twitching to keep from smiling, he says, “Mother, I do the gardening around here.”
She looks at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” She turns to me. “Lizzie, be a dear and go around to the three bar stations. Make sure there is a dedicated bartender for each one and that each one is fully stocked and ready to start serving my—I mean, our guests.”
“I’m on it,” I reply, giving Blake a sly wink.
He glares at me in response, no doubt jealous that I got the better of the two chores, and we both go our separate ways.
As far as I can tell, the first bar in the corner of the living room is all set. I would feel like I was lying down on the job if I didn’t do a little taste test, so I have the bartender pour me a glass of white wine. Yum. Blake’s folks sprang for the good stuff. After checking out the second bar in the dining room, I make my way to the third. It’s in a little alcove at the far end of the cavernous entry hall, which is so large my entire house could fit inside it. This bar seems to be perfect as well, and I’m about to head outside to find Blake when I hear a familiar voice.
“Really, Jim, they’ve hired a valet service? For a party in Liberty? What a waste of money. Where did they even find a valet service around here?” my mother’s voice gripes. I can’t see her from my vantage point, but from the sound of it, she’s just walking in the front door.
I down the rest of my wine and murmur to the bartender, “I need a double of whatever you can pour the fastest. No ice.”
My dad, ever the peacemaker, says, “Now, Elaine, this is Lizzie and Blake’s big night. I’m sure his family simply wanted to throw them a fantastic party. It’s not everyday we get invited to a shindig like this. Relax and enjoy it.”
“I’ll try.” Fat chance of that happening.
The bartender hands me a glass of vodka, which I guzzle, pausing only to cough as it burns its way down my throat.
“Ryan, for the last time, tuck in your shirt!” my mother cries, her voice shrill.
“Mom, come on. Don’t treat me like a child. I’m twenty-five years old,” my brother groans.
I hand my empty glass back to the bartender and steel myself for tonight. After taking a deep breath, I grudgingly give up my hiding spot and go to the door to meet my family.
My brother, who just got into town, spots me first and rushes over to sweep me into a crushing hug. “Hey, big sis! Swanky pad you got here. Is this all going to be yours in a few short months?”
Blake and I have had several discussions (arguments) about whether we’d live here or at my house, which my grandmother had left me. It’s an equal tug of war on the sentimental side, but on the reality side, my place doesn’t quite measure up to Blake’s newly acquired mansion. Beautiful as it is, though, this place still doesn’t have the charm of my tiny home.
“Um…we’re still working out the details,” I reply.
My dad playfully pushes Ryan aside to take my hands. “Well, Lizzie-girl, are you excited for your big night?”
“Um…yeah.”
After Dad lets go, my mother says tearfully, “My little girl…all grown up and getting married. I thought this day would never come.” Ah, there it is. The dig I’ve been waiting for. She grabs my left hand, pulling it close to her face. “I never tire of looking at your gorgeous ring. It’s such a stunner.” She adds under her breath, “At least he did that right.”
“Mom,” I snap between gritted teeth.
Ryan and Dad both seem a little worried, their eyes wide and flicking from my mother to me. Dad says, “Uh…where is that fiancé of yours? And his parents—we’re very excited to meet them.”
The two drinks I downed have finally started to kick in, calming my nerves enough that I can speak without growling. “They’re in the living room, I think. I’ll show you.”
Ryan throws his arm around my shoulder, whispering, “This is going to be a cluster, sis. Mom’s in rare form toni
ght. I hope you’re ready for the drama, because she’s gonna bring it.”
I sigh. “I figured as much. Please promise you’ll help me.”
“I’ll do what I can. You know I’m no match for Mom on the rampage.”
Blake’s dad meets us in the living room. The man is basically an older version of Blake in both looks and personality. His sincere smile lights up his entire face. “This must be the Hart family.”
“Yes, that’s us,” I reply. “This is my dad, Jim, my mom, Elaine, and my brother, Ryan. This is Gregory Morgan, Blake’s father.”
They all exchange pleasantries, and Gregory casts a glance toward the kitchen. “My wife has been looking forward to meeting you as well. Please follow me.”
We all troop into the bustling kitchen behind him. Every flat surface is covered with delicious-looking food. Catering staff members are busy putting the finishing touches on too many platters to count. My ever-hungry brother’s eyes bulge out at the sight of it all, zeroing in on a perfectly stacked tower of cream puffs. Blake’s mother is imperiously bossing the caterers around, telling them practically every move to make.
Over the din, Gregory says, “Jacqueline, the Harts are here.”
She looks up from the appetizers she’s scrutinizing and breaks into a smile. “Yes, of course. Hello.” She approaches us and shakes hands as Gregory makes this round of introductions.
My mother starts the conversation rolling. “My, what a lovely assortment of goodies you have here. Are there going to be enough people at the party to eat all this food?”
Jacqueline’s smile freezes on her face. “Yes, I’m expecting a very large attendance tonight.”
“It was so nice of you to throw such a lavish engagement party…especially since our children have been engaged for so long. I always thought these kind of parties were to announce an engagement.”
Oh, crap. Here we go.
Jacqueline’s forced smile had begun to fade while my mother was speaking. “Well, we wanted to make sure this relationship was going to last before doing any celebrating.”
Ouch. Was that a dig at me or at Blake? His prior engagement ended in him being left at the altar on his wedding day. My track record wasn’t much better.
In the awkward silence, I notice Ryan slyly snag a cream puff from one side of the tower and pop it in his mouth. The caterers continue doing their work with their heads down, but it’s not difficult to tell they’re listening to every word of our conversation.
Evidently my mother had used those few moments to think up a good comeback. “It was your son who needlessly dumped poor Lizzie when they first started dating. Why, she nearly wasted away because of it.” She pats my arm. “At least she’s put a little weight back on.”
I close my eyes, wishing to be anywhere but here. Yes, Blake broke up with me, but that’s forgiven and forgotten ancient history. And as for the “wasting away,” I totally did that on purpose to show Blake what he was missing…and I’ve only gained like five pounds back. You can barely tell.
Gregory clears his throat. “So, Jim, how long are you all staying in town?”
My dad replies, “Elaine and I are staying through the middle of next week, but Ryan has to head back to Nashville tomorrow.” He smiles proudly. “He’s a med student at Vanderbilt.”
All eyes swivel toward Ryan, who has now demolished the top third of the cream puff tower and is holding a half-eaten pastry in each hand.
Jacqueline’s jaw drops. “Young man! You have absolutely ruined the croquembouche before the party has even started!”
Ryan gives her a contrite “sorry” through a mouthful of cream puff.
My mother blows her top. “Don’t you dare yell at my son! He’s—”
“Drinks!” I blurt out, a little louder than I’d intended to. “I think we all need drinks. I’ll lead the way to the closest bar.”
I flee the kitchen, dragging my mother by the arm as I go. My dad and brother follow us sheepishly out into the living room. None of the four of us speaks except to give our drink requests to the bartender.
As soon as I get mine, I announce, “I need a moment. I’ll be back,” and hightail it upstairs to the sanctuary of Blake’s bedroom.
I close the door and breathe a sigh of relief, only to jump nearly out of my skin when Blake comes out of his closet, shirtless.
“You okay?” he asks, putting on a new shirt.
“Our parents just met.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up. “Too bad I missed it.”
I glare at him. “You were hiding so you could miss it.”
His handsome face breaks into a big smile. “Busted. Although I did have a good reason for coming up here. My last-minute gardening job got a little messy.” He gestures to the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, now smudged with dirt. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. How did it go?”
I take a long swig of my drink.
He laughs. “That bad, huh?”
I sigh. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this weekend.”
Blake comes over to me, takes the drink out of my hand, and wraps his arms around me. “You have to make it through this weekend. Valentine’s Day is Monday, and I have something special planned for us.”
“Oh, yeah?” When Blake plans something special, it’s definitely something to look forward to.
“Yeah. How about if I promise not to leave your side tonight? Do you think that will help?”
When I look up at his smiling face, my tension fades. “Absolutely. As long as I have you, I can make it through anything.”
“That’s my girl.” He leans down and kisses me, and all is right with the world.
CHAPTER TWO
Blake has been true to his promise, and not only has he not left my side during the party, he has either held my hand or has had his arm around me every moment. My parents and brother are busy catching up with my cousin Becca Hart, her mother (my Aunt Susan, who is Dad’s late brother’s wife), and Becca’s boyfriend, Detective Jack Harrison. Blake’s parents are busy schmoozing with the mayor and with Ronald Mason, our boss at the Liberty Chronicle.
Blake and I are listening to John Barnes, Blake’s financial advisor, drone on and on about the stock market, until he stops abruptly and narrows his gaze at something behind my shoulder. He lowers his voice and asks, “Who the hell invited Mayor Taggart?”
I’d wondered why the mayor was at our party, especially given the fact that he and Blake have been feuding a bit lately.
Blake groans. “My mother. She invited everyone in town she thought had power and influence. I didn’t figure he’d show after everything that’s gone on. He hasn’t spoken to me since I wrote that article about his misuse of campaign financing.”
John says, “Him trumping up those allegations of environmental safety infractions against your family’s coal business spoke loud and clear. The man damn near bankrupted your company. That was retaliation at you, personally.”
Blake had moved to Liberty from Chicago a couple of years ago in order to take the reigns of his grandfather’s estate and holdings when his grandfather fell ill. Those holdings include a few coalmines in the area, which were always very profitable until Mayor Taggart got his panties in a twist and decided to try to shut them down.
“I haven’t seen him this evening when he wasn’t guzzling booze. I hope he won’t cause a scene,” Blake says uneasily.
I interject, “We’ve already got plenty of people here who would be more than happy to do that.”
Suddenly, a flash goes off in my face, stunning me for a moment. As I’m blinking, trying to get my sight back, a voice says, “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to surprise you there. Just trying to get a few candid shots for Mrs. Morgan.”
“No problem,” I lie, still seeing spots. Blake’s mother had also hired a professional photographer to capture every moment of the party. I think we’re even supposed to have a private photo session for the family after the guests leave. I can’t wait. Grr
r.
John is still fuming about the mayor. “His blatant abuse of power is getting out of control. Someone needs to put a stop to it.”
Blake claps him on the back. “Yes, but not tonight, my friend. Tonight, we celebrate.” As one of the waitstaff walks by with a tray of champagne glasses, Blake grabs one and hands it to John. “Here you go.”
Smiling sheepishly, John accepts the glass and wanders off.
He’s not gone for a moment when my ex-boyfriend, Lee Robertson, swoops in and gives me a hug. He and Blake exchange a good-natured handshake.
“Hey, you two,” Lee says. “Fancy party.”
“Good to see you, Lee,” I reply.
“Thanks for coming in from Saint Louis,” Blake says.
Lee shrugs. “It was a good excuse to come visit my mom.”
As he’s speaking, a blonde woman carrying a tray of appetizers walks past him and winks.
I cock my head to the side. “You’ve been here how long and you’ve already made a lady friend?”
Chuckling, Lee says, “I’ve known Amber for a while. We’re going to hang out after the party and catch up.”
I smile. “Good for you.”
After giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, Lee says, “I’ll let you guys make your rounds. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Several feet away, I spot my best friend, Julia Simmons, and her husband Dillon talking to another of our work buddies, Hank Abshire, and his wife Renee. I drag Blake over to their group.
“Hey, guys!” I exclaim, giving Julia a one-armed hug because Blake still hasn’t let go of my hand.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” says Blake.
“We wouldn’t miss your hoity-toity party.” Hank gestures at Julia and me. “These two females have been yakking about it for a month at work. I can barely get my work done with their constant gabbing.”
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