by Hope Ramsay
“Well, I’ve got some good news and bad news.”
“Great. Why don’t you start with the good news? I’ve already had enough bad news to last a lifetime.”
“Okay. You should expect a call from Tobin Grant.”
“Tobin Grant? Isn’t he one of the associates at Wilson Kavanaugh?”
“Yeah. He’s the associate voted most likely to make partner this year.”
“And why is he going to call me?”
“To ask you out on a date.”
“That’s the good news? I’m underwhelmed.”
“Well, there’s also the news that Brandon has already paid the September mortgage payment. I haven’t yet been able to have a rational discussion with him about the rest.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s the bad news.”
“Oh?”
“Matt was at The Park on Saturday. He saw us dancing, and he told Brandon all about it. Brandon is furious with you. Sadly, he’s not in the slightest bit jealous. He’s more or less figured out what we’ve been up to and he told me to stay away from you.”
She let go of a long sigh. “I already know that we were seen at The Park. I ran into Pam and Roxy at the coffee shop yesterday. Apparently Matt told Brandon and he told Roxy. For what it’s worth, Roxy said that being seen with you and Daniel has caused a major crap-storm. She warned me to stay away from you too. On the other hand, your aunt seemed to be happy that you and I are such good friends.”
Andrew let go of a long, audible sigh. “Stay away from my aunt,” he said.
She found herself carefully parsing his admonition and wondering if he had enjoyed her kiss more than he’d let on. No, probably not. “Look, I’m sorry. About Saturday. I definitely had too much to drink.” And had behaved just like Mom.
A long, static-filled silence stretched out. “You know, Laurie,” he finally said, “you should go out with Tobin. I mean, he’s great. He’s smart, and he dresses well, and your father loves him. Plus he’s not nearly as big of a jerk as Connor.”
She drummed her fingers on the surface of her desk and thought about quoting Longfellow at him, as in “Speak for yourself, Andrew.” But she had a feeling Andrew had never read The Courtship of Miles Standish. Plus they’d both been warned to stay away from each other.
“So, are you going to be my wingman again?” she asked, hoping against hope.
“No. I think you’re safe with Tobin. Besides, everyone thinks you’re ready to go on real dates, and it’s probably best if I stay away this time.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Your father…”
“And?”
He hauled in another audible breath. “Brandon was here at the office. He was pissed. Accused you of stirring the pot and manipulating things.”
“And he suggested that I go on a real date? Doesn’t he know I went out with Connor?”
“Uh, no. Not really. All he knows is what Matt told him about seeing us together.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because your dad came into my office while Brandon was ripping me a new one. And I didn’t want your father to know about what happened on your date with Connor.”
“About how I got drunk, in other words.”
“Among other things. So you’re good with Tobin? I mean, you can tell him no if you want.” Andrew almost sounded like he wanted her to tell this Tobin guy no. But that was probably wishful thinking.
“Yeah. I’m fine. You know what? If he calls, I’ll invite him to Emma’s wedding next Saturday. I was thinking about asking you, but that’s obviously a bad idea.”
“Yeah. It is,” he said in a flat tone of voice that shattered Laurie’s already-broken heart.
Chapter Eleven
Laurie’s emotions seemed to be on a perpetual roller coaster ride. Some days, she felt strong and ready to take on the world, and at other times, she hit terrible emotional lows. On Friday evening, as she walked up onto the grand portico at Eagle Hill Manor, she hit rock bottom.
It had been exactly four weeks since her wedding disaster, and she hadn’t set foot anywhere near the inn in that time. She couldn’t help but remember that Friday, when she and her girlfriends checked into the inn. She’d been so happy and excited the night before her wedding.
Twenty-four hours later, her balloon had popped.
She forced a smile as she strolled into the inn’s lobby and followed the sign toward the solarium, where Emma’s henna party—a combination wedding shower, bachelorette party, and traditional Turkish ceremony—was already in full swing.
Laurie was running late because Michael Altimari had called her into a meaningless staff meeting in which he’d announced to the entire department that her research proposal had “a few holes in it” and was therefore not quite ready to be submitted as a grant proposal. He’d even had the temerity to suggest that perhaps the problem with her proposal stemmed from the fact that she spent too much time teaching. As if she had any other choice.
It wasn’t as if she could complain about her teaching load either. She was the new kid in the department, battling the usual academic inertia. Whining or complaining wouldn’t win her any allies or research money.
So she was in a funk when she entered the solarium, where unfamiliar music blared from the speakers, adding to her headache.
“Laurie, we thought you were lost.” The fabric of Emma’s bright red dress flowed as she crossed the room, and Laurie’s breath caught in her throat. The color brought out the olive tones in Emma’s skin. She definitely had the bridal radiance thing going in spades.
“I’m sorry,” Laurie said, giving her friend a hug. “I got held up at work. And wow, you look fabulous tonight. Red is definitely your color.”
Emma grinned. “Thanks. Red is traditional for a henna party. But never mind me, girl. I was worried that maybe coming here would be hard for—”
“I’m fine. Really. It was just a work thing.”
“Well, I’m glad. But I’m also angry with you. You haven’t been returning my phone calls.”
“I’m okay. I’m just busy at work, you know.”
Emma gave Laurie another hug, and then pulled her into the room, where Jessica and Madison were already enjoying their drinks—a nonalcoholic blend of orange, apple, and pineapple juices. Laurie had just enough time to grab one for herself before one of the groom’s sisters pressed a small red dish containing a mound of mud into her hands.
“It’s henna,” Nabil’s sister said.
Good to know. She had seen henna tattoos before, but the actual henna was a mystery to her. Sticking out of her mud pie was a small blue candle, which the groom’s sister set ablaze with a lighter.
When all twenty guests had their dishes of flaming henna in hand, someone killed the music and dimmed the lights. Everyone circled the bride while the groom’s mother draped Emma in a red veil, seated her in a straight-backed chair, and then left the room.
Nabil’s three sisters and some of their Turkish friends began singing a song in a language Laurie didn’t understand. As they sang, they led everyone in a rocking shuffle step that moved clockwise around the bride. The dance was easy enough that even left-footed Laurie mastered it in short order.
Although Laurie didn’t understand the words, the dance and the music carried an unmistakable emotion that almost brought tears to her eyes. This circle of light was part of a solemn ritual passed down for generations from mothers to daughters. And it made Laurie wish she had a better relationship with her own mom.
The groom’s mother returned to the room bearing a silver tray covered with red lace and a larger mound of henna festooned with more burning candles. The singing and dancing continued for a few more minutes until Emma’s soon-to-be mother-in-law entered the circle and took Emma’s hand. She pressed a gold coin into Emma’s palm, and then Emma’s mother covered the coin with henna from the large tray and wrapped Emma’s fist—coin and henna included—in a fancy red lace mitten.
“Now, we dance, eat, sing, and get our henna on,” Nabil’s mother said with a huge smile. The circle broke, the Turkish music swelled from the speakers once again, and the Eagle Hill Manor staff brought in a buffet consisting of steamed salmon, sautéed chicken, and vegetarian penne pasta.
While people ate and chatted, the guests lined up to take their turns with the henna artist who was there to elaborately decorate their hands. Laurie bypassed the henna artist and hit the buffet instead, grabbing a plate of chicken and a glass of water because no alcohol was being served at this event. She found a seat at a small table in the corner and dug in. She was ravenously hungry since her teaching schedule hardly gave her time for lunch.
Jessica eventually found her. “Don’t you want to get a henna tattoo?” she asked.
“Nah. I don’t think my boss would approve.”
“Really? Not even something small, like this?” Jessica displayed the inside of her wrist where a small rose bloomed. The design was intricate and beautiful. “It only lasts a couple of weeks, you know. It’s not like a life-changing decision or anything.”
“Well…”
“Come on.” Jessica gently took her by the arm. “I’m not letting you sit in the corner all night.”
“It would help if I had a glass of wine.”
“No worries. After this, we’re escaping.”
“Escaping where?”
“It’s a surprise, but trust me, margaritas are involved.”
“Is Emma coming with us? I mean, isn’t it sacrilegious for her to have margaritas the night before her nonalcoholic wedding?”
“Shhhhh.” Jessica put her finger to her lips.
Against her better judgment, Laurie allowed Jessica to drag her over to the henna artist, where she allowed her wrist to be decorated, and not just on the inside either. When the artist finished, the entire circumference of Laurie’s right wrist was decorated with a tattoo that looked like a lace cuff. It was gorgeous. And to Laurie’s surprise, she found herself admiring it for the rest of the evening.
The party was winding down when Emma finally joined Laurie, Jessica, and Madison at one of the small tables.
“Oh my God, the artist did a fantastic job,” she said with a happy gleam in her eye. She had tattoos on the backs of both hands and both feet, in addition to the brown mark on her hand where the coin and henna had been placed. “I love your lace cuff,” Emma said, staring down at Laurie’s hand.
“I do too, but Michael will say something nasty about it, for sure.”
Three pairs of eyes turned in her direction. “Who’s Michael?” they asked in near unison.
Laurie snorted a laugh. “Don’t get excited. It’s not like I’ve got some new boyfriend or something. Michael is my boss, and he’s a total a-hole. Courtney would call him an unholy cross between an Ogler and a Belittler.”
“Speaking of Courtney,” Emma said, “we have a surprise planned for tonight. I just need to say good night to Nabil’s mother and sisters, who I’m sure are not entirely happy about me going off to a bar for a little after-party. But Nabil said he was okay with it, so just hang here for a moment, okay?”
She left them for about ten minutes and returned with Courtney Wallace in tow. “Okay, are you guys ready?”
“I’m more than ready,” Madison said. “Let’s go get ’em.”
Laurie was about to ask what that meant, but Courtney took her by the arm. “I thought we could all drive together,” she said. “That way you can leave your car here. I’ll be the designated driver, and tomorrow I’ll swing by to pick you up for the wedding.”
“Um, I don’t need you to pick me up,” Laurie said.
Once again, her friends stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Honey, I know it’s hard,” Emma said. “But I would be so disappointed if you missed my wedding.”
“I’m not going to miss your wedding, Emma. I’m not a basket case. I just don’t need a ride.” She paused a moment. “I’ve got a date.”
Everyone stopped walking. They were in the parking lot not far from Courtney’s SUV. “You have a date for my wedding? Oh my God, I’m not sure we set a place for him. I mean, I…” Emma’s voice trailed off.
“But I RSVP’d for me plus one guest.”
“I know you did, but that was before…uh…”
“Wait a sec, you have a date?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah, with a guy named Tobin Grant. He works for my father. To tell you the truth, it’s kind of a blind date. But still.”
“Well, good for you. I hope he’s as gorgeous as Brad Pitt,” Madison said.
“Me too,” echoed Jessica.
“Come on, you guys, time’s a-wasting,” Courtney said.
They piled into Courtney’s car and headed toward town, but when Courtney didn’t make the left onto Morgan Avenue, Laurie knew something was up. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I told you we had a surprise planned,” Emma said. “Just sit back and relax. You’re going to love this.”
Courtney pulled the SUV off the road onto a narrow shoulder beside a wooded area. Just ahead and to the right stood the long, sloping driveway down to August Kopp’s country retreat, a 4,000-square-foot luxury log cabin with spectacular views of the Shenandoah Valley to the west. Courtney had cased the property a few nights ago. The car was in a shed out behind the main house. Since the house was a vacation home, it was unoccupied most of the time.
“What the hell, Courtney?” Laurie said.
Emma giggled. Jessica snorted. And Madison leaned forward from the backseat and patted Laurie’s shoulder. “We’re here to murder Brandon’s Camaro,” Jessica said.
“Oh my God, I should have known,” Laurie said. “And since when does Brandon park his car out here at his dad’s place?”
“Since Andrew Lyndon told him we were planning to trash it,” Emma said.
“I’m sure Andrew did no such thing,” Laurie said in a tone that sounded slightly wounded or affronted. Whoa, what was up with that?
Courtney knew Andrew had set Laurie up with a couple of dates, but there was something in the way she came to Andrew’s defense just now that raised a red flag. Laurie had been spending a lot of time with Andrew recently. Was she falling for him? That would be bad.
“It could have just as easily been Jason or Matt who warned Brandon. They were there that day when you guys were talking about the car,” Laurie said. “In fact, I remember they were so upset, they left the room in a hurry.”
“Okay, whatever. Does it matter? I mean, we found it, right?” Emma said.
“How did you find out where the car was parked?” Laurie asked.
“It was kind of serendipitous,” Emma said. “One of Nabil’s sisters has a friend who works for Heather Lyndon. Brandon just joined her staff and apparently he hates riding the Metro. He’s been complaining to all his coworkers about his precious Camaro being parked out here in the boonies. I told Courtney about the car’s location last week, and she was nice enough to scout the terrain for us and assemble the equipment we need to do the car in. Courtney, it turns out, is a whiz at killing cars.”
“What?” Laurie gave Courtney a long, sober stare. “You’ve been planning this for a week and you didn’t say one word?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Laurie gave Courtney a what-the-hell kind of look. “You know, Court, surprises like this are why I really hate to be surprised. Brandon loves his car. It would be wrong for us to do any damage to it.”
Clearly it was time to take Laurie in hand. “Yes, Brandon loves his car. He loves it more than he’s ever loved you. Which is screwed up if you ask me. So I want you to think about how that man made you feel on your wedding day. About how he went to Bermuda without you. About how he made you take a job you hate and buy a house that you didn’t want. Laurie, that man needs to pay for what he’s done to you.”
Laurie surprised the crap out of Courtney by folding her arms in a defensive posture. “Destroying his car won’t solve any
thing. Honestly, you guys, I don’t want anything to do with that. Besides, it’s illegal.”
Laurie was way too nice for her own good. No wonder she’d stayed with a jerk like Brandon for all those years.
“Come on, Laurie. Courtney is right. We can’t let Brandon get away scot-free. What he did was heinous,” Jessica said.
“I’m not going to be involved in any scheme to damage his property.”
“We aren’t going to destroy the car. We’re just going to make it no fun for him to drive for a while. And hopefully that will help Brandon think twice before he jacks someone else around,” Courtney said.
Laurie shook her head.
“Well,” Jessica said, “I’m not letting him get away with it.”
“Me neither,” chorused Madison and Emma.
Laurie’s girlfriends piled out of the car, but Laurie remained unpersuaded.
“Come on, your friends have your back,” Courtney said.
Laurie shook her head. “I’m not trashing Brandon’s car.”
“Because you still love him?”
Laurie shrugged.
“Okay, I’ll try to talk them out of it. But I personally think you’re giving him a free ride.”
Courtney got out of the car and huddled with Laurie’s erstwhile bridesmaids. “Laurie has serious cold feet about this. I guess I miscalculated.”
“Oh no,” Emma said, “it’s not you. It’s her. She’s just scared, I think. Maybe if she saw us going off to kill the Camaro, she’d find her courage and join us.”
“I’m not leaving without striking a blow,” Jessica said, crossing her arms.
“Well, I guess that’s that. Are we all in?”
Everyone nodded.
Courtney opened the SUV’s hatch. In the cargo area, she’d organized their supplies in several reusable Food Lion bags. “Each of you grab a sack,” she directed. “I’m going to tell Laurie that we’re doing this with or without her.”
Courtney left the bridesmaids to it, turned away, and opened the front passenger’s door. She leaned down to speak with Laurie. “I don’t think I can talk them out of it.”
