by Hope Ramsay
“Yeah,” Jessica said, “in order to torture him, slowly.”
Amy touched his arm, and Andrew looked down into his sister’s dark eyes. “You really need to do something before everyone gets angry with everyone else,” she said. “I hate it when the family’s in turmoil. And the Kopps are like members of the family.” There were tears in Amy’s eyes.
Why me? Andrew wondered. But he already knew the answer. He often played referee. But this time, keeping the peace might be impossible. Brandon breaking up with Laurie would shatter the dynamic of their tight-knit circle of friends and family.
Negotiating those fissures and cracks would be doubly difficult because Laurie’s father, Noah Wilson, was Andrew’s boss at Wilson Kavanaugh, a law firm with a nationally respected mediation practice. For the last five years, Andrew had been busting his butt trying to make partner. This breakup would put him in an awkward position to say the least.
He downed his champagne and stepped across the room, sinking into the ottoman beside Laurie’s chair. “Laurie,” he said gently.
She looked up at him, her face marred by tear tracks. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her to weep and sob and yell, even though he knew from experience that none of those things would change the situation. Still, there was something to be said for the cathartic property of throwing things. He’d broken an entire set of dishes the day Val walked out on him.
No one knew he’d done that, of course. Andrew kept his emotions tightly reined when he was in public. Laurie was like that too. It was something he admired about her.
“What would fix this situation for you?” he asked.
“I love him,” she whispered, her voice so tight, it sounded brittle.
“So you’d be okay if he changed his mind and we started over? You still want to marry him?”
She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I certainly don’t want to kill or maim him.” She glanced at Madison. “Or mess up his car.”
“Let me go talk to him, okay?” Andrew said gently.
“You can’t be serious.” Emma downed the last drop of her champagne and glared at him. “That asshole left her at the altar. That’s like the worst humiliation a woman can suffer. It’s like he—”
“Shut up,” Laurie said, her voice surprisingly strong. “I’d take him back,” she said.
“Okay, let me see what I can do.” Andrew got up and headed toward the door, but Emma followed him.
“You aren’t seriously thinking about talking Brandon into going forward with the ceremony, are you?”
“Why not?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because he’s a dickwad, and Laurie deserves better.”
“He wasn’t a dickwad two hours ago, was he? Maybe he just had a moment of—”
“Doesn’t matter who he was two hours ago. He walked away from her on her wedding day. And it’s not her place to grovel and ask him to come back.”
“I wouldn’t ask her to grovel, Emma. But if she’s willing to take him back, don’t you think it’s worth trying to see if that’s possible? The object is to find a win-win situation for both of them.”
“You’re unbelievable. Laurie is not capable of judging what she wants right now.” Emma’s fists landed on her hips.
“And you are?” he asked, suddenly annoyed at Laurie’s best friend.
Emma shook her head. “No. But I think Laurie loves the idea of Brandon. I think she’s been overlooking a lot of problems with the real Brandon.”
Andrew let out a long breath. “Look, she asked me to talk to him, okay? I’m the best man—reasoning with the groom comes with the territory. And besides, I’m a mediator so talking to people in crisis is sort of my thing.”
Emma folded her arms across her chest. “Knock yourself out. But you aren’t going to change Brandon’s mind. My guess is that he’s been cheating on Laurie.” She turned and ducked back into the Churchill Suite.
Was there someone else? Andrew didn’t think so. But he’d certainly been surprised that day when he’d come home from work and found Val all packed and ready to run off to her lover.
Laurie looked down at the champagne flute, studying the way the late afternoon sun sparkled on the bubbles and her two-carat pavé-set Tiffany engagement ring. She remembered the day Brandon had put that ring on her finger. It was at her birthday party, two years ago. She hadn’t thought too much about the fact that members of their close group of friends each brought a balloon to the party with a single letter on it. But it all became clear when Brandon suggested a group picture with the balloons, which, when lined up in the right order, spelled out: LAURIE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Brandon had gotten down on his knee and presented the ring in its beautiful robin’s-egg-blue Tiffany box. She’d loved the ring from the first moment she’d laid eyes on it. It was classic and maybe a tiny bit old-fashioned.
And now she would have to give it back.
Something broke inside her heart, and the tears she’d been trying not to shed welled up like a fountain. How could such a romantic man walk away from their wedding?
She slipped the ring from her finger. “Someone needs to give this back,” she managed to choke out.
“Aw, honey,” Jessica said, “you are not giving that back. You’re going to sell it on eBay and pocket the ten grand. You’ll need the money to fix up that house Brandon talked you into buying. Now drink your champagne. It’ll take the edge off.”
She did as she was told, and just as soon as she’d drained the flute, Madison refilled it. “I just don’t get it,” Laurie said through her tears.
“Neither do we,” Emma said. “But the important thing is that a man who leaves his bride at the altar is a jerk.”
Laurie shook her head. No. Brandon was a great guy. The problem wasn’t Brandon. It was her.
She sniffled back her tears and downed another glass of champagne. Yes, definitely. She was the problem. She’d been a fool to think that they had a special relationship that could weather her problems in the bedroom. She needed to accept the fact that she was a dud when it came to sex. She was uptight and OCD and had trouble turning her brain off. Who wanted to be chained to a wife like that?
She downed another glass of champagne.
“So, girls, you know we really can’t kill him or castrate him. But the Camaro…we could really mess it up,” Emma said in a solemn tone.
“Maybe we could find a bottle of spray paint and write the words ‘Left the Bride at the Altar’ across his back window,” Madison said.
“You’re an amateur,” Jessica said. “I vote that we go to Lowes and buy a pickax and turn the Camaro into Swiss cheese.”
“That would be too obvious,” Emma said. “We should just put sugar in the gas tank.”
The girls continued to discuss ways of destroying Brandon’s beloved car while they sipped several more glasses of champagne.
Meanwhile Laurie obsessed over all the things she’d done wrong. It was amazing that Brandon hadn’t found someone else. Assuming he’d told her the truth. But it didn’t matter because he’d lose interest in her as soon as he started playing the field. She bored him in the bedroom, and that’s why he wanted her to date other guys. Maybe he thought she needed the experience. Like the opposite of slut-shaming or something. But sleeping around would be like cheating on him.
Except it wouldn’t be cheating. Not now.
The truth exploded on her like a stinger missile, and suddenly all the champagne she’d been sipping didn’t want to stay down. She didn’t make it all the way to the bathroom before she hurled it up.
Well, that was it. Her beautiful $7,000 wedding dress was utterly ruined. Even if Andrew could talk Brandon into marrying her, Laurie now had nothing to wear to the wedding.
Chapter Two
Andrew’s uncles Charles and Mark, along with his father, were sitting in the library with Noah Wilson. They hovered around Laurie’s father as if they might be undertaking an intervention. Everyone seemed to have a drink, which made
perfect sense because, if ever there was a moment for alcohol, this was it.
“Uh, sorry,” Andrew said and turned around. He’d been heading toward the French doors in the library when he’d stumbled on the group of elder statesmen.
“Andrew.” Noah called him back, and since Noah was his boss, he turned.
“Yes.”
“Thanks for getting Laurie out of the church that way. Is she all right?”
“She’s upset, but her girlfriends are with her, and I just saw her mother go upstairs. Um, have any of you seen Brandon?”
A muscle in Noah’s cheek flexed. His boss was furious, and had every reason to be.
“I think I saw him out at the gazebo,” Uncle Charles said.
“Thanks.”
Andrew crossed the room and headed through the French doors onto the terrace. A few moments later, he found Brandon standing in the gazebo staring out at the panoramic view of the Shenandoah Valley across the west lawn.
“If you’re here to talk me out of it, get in line. Dad has expressed his disappointment. Roxy has poured on the sisterly guilt. And Laurie’s father has ripped me a new one; I mean, he was red-faced furious with me in a way I’ve never seen before. For a moment, I thought the guy might try to punch me or something. Your father saved me.”
“Yeah, I saw him in the library plying Laurie’s father with bourbon. I’m kind of surprised Noah didn’t try to initiate mediation.”
“I don’t think he had mediation on his mind,” Brandon said, turning around and leaning into the gazebo’s baluster. “I hope you aren’t here for that either.”
“Laurie still loves you, you know,” Andrew said after a moment of silence.
Brandon’s lips pressed together. “Yeah, I know. But I’m not changing my mind. One day she’ll thank me for this.”
“Somehow, Brandon, I don’t think so. You hurt her today.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “So you’re on her side too, huh?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m just speaking the truth.”
“Fine.”
“Also, you should know that Laurie’s friends are so pissed off, they’re making plans to do something heinous to your car.”
“Thanks.”
Wow. Brandon’s response was underwhelming given that he loved his fully restored 1970 Camaro Z28 the way some people loved their pets. The car was practically a member of his immediate family.
“You should know that Jessica is especially vindictive. On the other hand, Laurie continues to express her love and support,” Andrew said.
“Is she really upset?”
“Of course she is,” Andrew said mildly, swallowing back his own anger. “She expected to marry you today. Right now she’s trying to figure out why you did what you did.”
“To be honest, Laurie says she loves me, but I’m not sure she knows what love is. I’m not sure I do either. I don’t think we belong together,” Brandon said.
Andrew was experienced enough in negotiations to know when he was being BS’d. “So if I hear you right, you’re saying you don’t want to get married to Laurie at all? Earlier you said you wanted a break for a while. Those two positions are in conflict, you know.”
Brandon shook his head and looked heavenward in a display of exasperation. “I don’t want you to mediate. All I know is that I feel like I’m being rushed into something.”
“You’ve known Laurie for ten years. That’s not rushing into anything. So I’m just asking the basic question. Why did you do it? And what do you need to move forward?”
“And I’m saying that I don’t want you trying to be my relationship counselor, okay? I’m not looking for a compromise. I just need a friend, is all.”
“So you want me to support your decision without question, is that it?”
“No, of course not. I’d like you to understand where I’m coming from. But if you want to rip me a new one like Laurie’s father did, go ahead. I don’t really give a rat’s ass what you do.” The anger in Brandon’s voice scalded his words.
“I think you do care. And I think you’re going to pay a price for this eventually. The people who love you and Laurie are going to be pulled into factions, and once that happens, a resolution that will meet your needs will be hard to find.”
“Well, thanks for making me feel better.”
“I didn’t come here to make you feel better.”
“Look, Andrew, if you want to take Laurie’s side on this, then fine.” Brandon walked past Andrew in a determined stride, the tone of his voice conveying the opposite of his words. Brandon obviously expected his best man to remain loyal no matter what. Unfortunately Andrew saw both sides to this dispute.
Courtney Wallace, the wedding planner at Eagle Hill Manor, hurried up the grand staircase toward the Churchill Suite. This was the second time in her short career as a wedding planner that she’d had to deal with a left-at-the-altar scenario. Last spring, reality TV personality Mia Paquet had dumped Daniel Lyndon at the altar. But in that case, Courtney had practically jumped for joy.
Mia had been the worst bridezilla ever.
Laurie, not so much, although she could be a little OCD about small details. But really, what bride wasn’t just a little OCD when it came to her wedding day?
Courtney reached the landing just as her assistant, Amy McNeil, arrived from the opposite direction.
“How is she?” Courtney asked. No need to explain the pronoun. There was only one person on anyone’s mind right at the moment.
Amy shook her head. “It’s bad. Really bad. I feel so sorry for her. All that work…”
“We should have done something to stop the wedding before today,” Courtney said as she pressed a finger to her forehead where a tension headache was starting to blossom.
“What could we have done? I mean, did you know Brandon was planning to pull a stunt like that? I sure didn’t see it coming. I’ve known Brandon all my life, and he’s a totally sweet guy.”
“Brandon isn’t sweet,” Courtney said.
“Well, I guess not, I mean after—”
“No, I mean before. He’s a classic example of the Nice Guy, Not.”
Amy blinked. “Okay, refresh my memory. Which one is that?”
At thirty-five and still single, Courtney had dated extensively and had never once found Mr. Right, although she had lost her heart once, ages ago. In the intervening years, she had developed a list of ten male losers that every woman should avoid at all costs.
“The Nice Guy, Not is the one who looks perfect on paper,” Courtney said. “Everyone says he’s a nice guy. He holds doors. He’s not afraid to meet the parents. He even cuddles. But he thinks all that good behavior entitles him to special treatment, as if common decency were something special. That makes him just another entitled male jerk.
“And you know what? Now that I think of it, Brandon also has a few traits in common with the Belittler. Don’t you remember how he second-guessed every one of Laurie’s decisions? And she needed that like a hole in the head, what with her mother constantly expressing her views as well.”
Amy nodded. “I guess you do have a point about that. He was annoying as hell about the reception menu. At the time, I thought it was nice that he cared so much about the wedding plans.”
Courtney shook her head. “Amy, real men don’t care about wedding plans. They just do what they’re told.”
“So you think he’s screwing around on her?”
“I have no clue, but when a man says he wants to take a break, it usually means he has a honey on the side.”
“You know, Court, you have a jaded view of love for a woman in your position.”
“Yeah, but I’m a hell of a good organizer, and this pays better than nursing. Although on days like this, I sometimes think the burnout potential is just as high.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do upstairs. Laurie is in the good hands of her friends. They’ve got plenty of champagne, and they’re already thinking about ways to destroy
Brandon’s Camaro.”
Courtney grinned. “I knew I liked Laurie’s friends.”
“So, is there anything you need from me?” Amy asked.
Courtney shook her head. “No, most of the guests have left, although your dad and uncles are having some kind of powwow in the library. Pam is in there too. I think they’re trying to talk Laurie’s father down. He really lost it a while ago. Anyway, I sent in a couple of bottles of Bella Vista wine. I also left directions to keep the bar open until everyone clears out of the Carriage House. We’ve already made arrangements to send any leftover food to the Jefferson County homeless shelter.”
“All right then. I’ll go check on Dad and the uncles and make sure everything is okay in the library. Then I plan to head home to Dusty.” Amy’s eyes lit up the moment she said her husband’s name. Amy and Dusty were the epitome of starry-eyed newlyweds. Courtney hoped their happiness lasted.
“You should go home too,” Amy said.
“I will, after I make sure everything is buttoned up in the Carriage House.”
They turned and walked down the stairway together. At the bottom, Amy turned right and headed toward the library. Courtney turned left and went through Eagle Hill Manor’s front door to the grand portico. She wanted to take the long walk around to the Carriage House in order to clear her mind before handling the last few details of Laurie’s wedding-that-never-was.
But one of the Lyndon boys was blocking her way. He sat on the front steps with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. His tux fit him like it had been hand-tailored just for him, and for an instant, she felt sorry for him. He looked a little sad, sitting there alone.
Which Lyndon was he? They all looked alike from the back. Was it Andrew? Jason? Edward?
Just then, he turned and gave her one of those smiles that a less experienced woman might have fallen for. Oh yeah, she knew this one. Matthew. Amy’s first cousin and Daniel Lyndon’s brother. And if she remembered correctly, Amy thought he was kind of a jerk.
Although really, the words “man” and “jerk” were interchangeable in Courtney’s book. Since she’d already had her fill of jerks today, she started to do a one-eighty when he said, “Don’t go.” He had a seductively deep, velvet voice.
