by Hope Ramsay
Well, hell, she could let her fears stop her from moving forward or she could just cross the bridge and see what happened. She’d come to understand that no one was going to fix her life for her. Not her friends, or Andrew, or Mom, or Dad. If she wanted to move on, she would have to fix it herself.
And doing the hard work for this grant money would help her gain control of her life again.
She was deeply involved in drafting the outline for the grant proposal when her cell phone buzzed. She checked the caller ID. Damn. Brandon had the ability to pop up like a bad nightmare every time she started feeling good about herself. Like last night, when he’d ruined her moment with Andrew.
Of course, Andrew had run away last night like a scared rabbit. And that was all she really needed to know. She stared at Brandon’s name for a couple of rings and finally decided it was time to face her problems. She pressed talk and said, “Hello, Brandon.”
“Laurie.” The sound of her name in his voice made her heart pound.
“What is it, Brandon?” She barked the words into the phone. Damn. She shouldn’t have picked up. Just hearing his voice had shaken her confidence.
“I…uh…look, I want to apologize for last night. Apparently I behaved like a jerk.”
“You don’t know that you behaved like a jerk?”
“I was drunk. But trust me, Andrew spared no words in conveying just what a jerk I was.”
“Good old Andrew.”
“Yeah. He’s a good friend. Look, Laurie, I…well, I need to talk to you.”
She drummed her fingers on the desktop. “About the finances?”
The silence on the other end deepened for an interminable moment. “Look, I know I hurt you on our wedding day. But I had serious doubts about us. I mean, I thought we might be making a big mistake. I needed to make sure, you know, that…” He heaved a sigh and didn’t continue.
“Make sure of what?”
“I just needed to have a few more experiences.”
“You mean like going to Bermuda with Matt and picking up women? That sort of thing?” She cringed when the words popped out of her mouth. She sounded just like Mom when one of her boyfriends inevitably cheated on her. Mom had a talent for choosing men who cheated.
Of course, Laurie was one to talk. He may have gone to Bermuda with Matt, but she’s the one who’d had earth-moving sex with Brandon’s best friend.
“I get why you’re pissed at me,” Brandon said. “But the truth is, I didn’t have much fun in Bermuda. I certainly didn’t meet anyone worth dating. And in the meantime, you’ve been dating the world.”
“No. Not really. And if you’re trying to shame me for going out, it’s not going to work.”
“Laurie, come on. I saw you out with Danny. Matt saw you out with Andrew. Someone told me you took some other guy to Emma’s wedding. And then you show up at the ball with that cop, which kind of pissed me off because he should have arrested Courtney for what she did to my car. The milk she purposefully spilled on the carpet is starting to stink.”
What the hell? A surge of fury coursed through her, and the tips of her drumming fingers were starting to hurt. “Sorry,” she said, her tone sarcastic.
Brandon’s breathing got lower and deeper over the connection. “Look, Laurie, the thing is, I love you. This last month has been…well, it’s been lonely as hell, to tell you the truth. I miss you.”
She stopped drumming her fingers as her brain short-circuited. This was precisely what she’d wanted four weeks ago. And yet, it occurred to her that she’d stopped missing Brandon somewhere along the line.
That wasn’t to say she was happy with her life. She definitely missed the collegiality of the political science department at George Washington University. She missed the wide circle of friends that she and Brandon had hung out with. She missed the equilibrium of that life, where everyone was happy.
But she hadn’t been all that obsessed with Brandon the last couple of weeks. She’d been having fun. Dating guys like Tobin Grant. And…lusting after Andrew.
In a totally unrequited way. But still.
She squared her shoulders and spoke carefully. “Look, Brandon, I’m happy to keep the door open for a while, just as you suggested on our wedding day. But I think we need to talk about finances. Maybe we can schedule a meeting at Andrew’s office or something.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. To be honest, I’m coming to see that you were right. I need to experiment a little more.”
“Come on, Laurie. Don’t be that way, okay? You’ve won. I’ve received your message loud and clear.”
“What message is that?”
“You know. You’ve made your point.”
Holy crap. Andrew’s stupid plan appeared to have worked. Sort of. Brandon wanted her back. But did she want Brandon? That was the question.
“What point have I made?” she asked.
“That my idea for an open relationship was dumb.”
“Did you suggest an open relationship? Because I missed that. As I recall it, you told me to go experience life. I think you should take your own advice and do the same.”
On Monday morning, Noah Wilson stepped into Andrew’s office and shut the door behind him. Out in the bullpen, Kim’s head popped up over her cubicle’s divider like a prairie dog on the alert. In five minutes, the whole office would know about this encounter. Andrew was so tired of this.
“So?” Noah said as he took command of the single side chair, his face a study in neutrality. “I gather there was quite a scene at the Harvest Festival Ball on Saturday.”
Damn. How did he know what had happened? Was he still talking to Aunt Pam? “I don’t know what you mean, Noah.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know all about how Laurie showed up with a Marine. And if your aunt is to be believed, this guy is handsome as the devil. Who is he? And why did you set her up with him? I thought we were going to let Tobin take her out a few times.”
Shit, shit, shit. Noah was still talking to Aunt Pam. That couldn’t be good. What was Pam up to? Andrew took a deep breath and reached for calm. “His name is Ryan Pierce. He’s retired military who now works for the Shenandoah Falls Police Force. And for the record, I didn’t set Laurie up on this date. She did that all on her own.”
Noah’s neutral expression evaporated. His eyes almost bugged out of his head. “She set herself up on a date?”
“She’s a grown woman, and a beautiful one. She isn’t going to have any problems finding boyfriends.”
“How does she know this guy?”
“I think she met him when your ex-wife called the SFPD and asked them to check on Laurie. This would have been a couple of days after the wedding.”
“Oh my God. My wife set them up?”
“Uh, no. Your wife called the police, and that’s how Ryan met Laurie. I think they’ve become friends.”
Noah squirmed in his chair. “This isn’t going well, Andrew. Do you think this is going well?”
“I’m not sure. Brandon showed up at the ball on Saturday. He was drunk as a skunk. I drove him home, and he spent the entire drive talking about your daughter. So maybe it—”
“He’s jealous?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe he’s beginning to regret his actions.”
“Yeah, well, he should—” Noah bit off the rest of what he had planned to say, took a deep breath, and continued, “So how do you feel about these developments?”
What the hell? Andrew was tempted to get right up into Noah’s face and tell him just how much he resented being pushed around and lied to. And while he was at it, he could tell Noah just how much he hated the idea of Laurie being with Ryan. Or Brandon. Or anyone for that matter.
But of course, he couldn’t say any of that.
“I don’t have any feelings,” he said in a calm voice.
“What?” Noah exploded out of his chair. “What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you have any feelings?”
“Um, well, I
like Ryan,” he said.
“You do? Why?”
“He’s a grown-up. And Laurie needs someone like that. Not because she’s immature, don’t get me wrong. But because she’s—I don’t know—classy and reserved and smart. And Ryan is a good guy.”
As much as he hated to admit it.
“As good as Brandon?”
“Yes, I think so. Look, Noah, the thing is, Brandon broke your daughter’s heart. He put her in a bad financial situation. And he messed up her career. So yeah, I think Ryan might be a better bet for her. I mean, any fool can see she’s better off without Brandon.”
He stopped speaking the moment he realized he’d more or less called his boss a fool.
“Does Brandon know you feel this way?” Noah’s voice had lowered. He’d reined in his emotions and sat back down.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what Brandon knows or thinks.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. He’s an idiot for letting her go. And if you want my opinion about Laurie’s happiness, you should just back off and let her figure it out on her own. Ryan’s an okay guy.”
“What about Tobin?”
“What about him?” Andrew wanted to break Noah’s head.
“Do you think he’d be good for her? Tobin told me they had a wonderful time at the wedding they went to.”
That would have been the day after Andrew slept with Laurie. And the idea of her going out with Tobin made his skin itch. He couldn’t say that out loud. So instead he took a breath, and said, “Yeah, sure. Tobin’s a great guy.”
Noah stood up. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. Tobin would make an excellent husband for my daughter. He’s smarter than Brandon and better looking. And I’m sure, with all his education, he could blow away that Ryan guy.”
“Right,” Andrew said in a weak voice. After all these weeks of insisting that nothing short of a reconciliation would please him, now Noah was on a mission to find Laurie an alternate husband—in Tobin no less. There was something seriously wrong with Noah. He needed to see a psychologist or something.
Or maybe he’d just been listening to Aunt Pam, who had clearly decided that it was her duty to get Laurie back on her feet and safely married off to someone. Anyone. That’s exactly what Pam had tried to do with Andrew’s sister Amy too. Damn.
“Good work, Andrew,” Noah said, pulling Andrew from his disquieting thoughts.
Andrew looked up just as Noah was leaving his office. “Tobin, there you are. Do you have a minute?” he said, just as Tobin strolled through the common area in the direction of the break room.
“Sure, Noah.” Tobin smiled his oily, obsequious smile.
“Have you called my daughter yet?”
“Uh, no. But I was planning to.”
Andrew groaned and banged his head on his desk. He hated Tobin Grant. And he hated Noah Wilson.
“Perfect,” Noah said in a big voice that carried all the way into Andrew’s office. “I’ve got a couple of box seats for Madame Butterfly at the Kennedy Center for this coming Saturday evening. You can have them.”
“Thanks, Noah. I’ll call her right away and see if she’s available.”
“Oh, she’ll be available. My daughter never misses a chance to go to the opera. Just don’t tell her I bought the tickets, okay?”
Chapter Twenty
Laurie’s cell buzzed on Monday evening as she was stirring the eggshell-white paint she planned to roll onto the living room’s walls. It was Tobin.
“Hi,” he said in a low, sexy voice. She waited for the hormonal rush, but it didn’t come. Like Ryan, Tobin was handsome and smart and accomplished, but for some reason, he just didn’t push all her buttons. It didn’t matter though because she didn’t need a man in her life.
She’d come to this conclusion directly after hanging up on Brandon last night. She was going to be the opposite of her mother. She would land her own research grant, tell Brandon to take a hike, and live like a nun for a while, occasionally hanging with her friends at the Jay Bird.
And if she needed help with home improvement, she could always call Ryan. He was exactly the kind of guy who would help out and never make any demands. So really, what else did she need?
Besides Andrew Lyndon’s kisses.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Tobin said, pulling her away from her daily fantasy.
“Oh?” Laurie wasn’t sure she liked surprises anymore.
He chuckled. “I’ve got two box-seat tickets for the National Opera Company’s performance on Saturday evening.”
Was Tobin for real? This had to be the first time in her life that anyone, other than Dad or Mom, had invited her out to the opera. Tobin scored major points for this, even if he didn’t make her heart go pitty-pat.
“Wow,” she said.
He chuckled. “I remembered what you said at Emma’s wedding, about how you loved Puccini. When I found out the National Opera was performing Madame Butterfly, I had to get the tickets.”
Tobin really was a great guy. She grinned like a fool. “Yes, I’ll go.”
“I’ll pick you up at four, and we’ll have dinner someplace in Georgetown.”
“Oh no, that’s silly. I’ll meet you in town.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Laurie. I’ll pick you up.”
“But it’s sixty miles one way give or take.”
“I like to drive.” He paused a moment before continuing. “Laurie, I assure you I’m a complete gentleman. I’m not working on a nefarious plan to convince you to spend the night with me in D.C. I will happily drive you home after the show.”
Laurie didn’t exactly know how to read the hint of amusement in his voice. Was he so sure that she’d succumb to his charms? Tobin Grant had a healthy ego, and she had to admit there was something attractive about a confident man.
So she capitulated. And then spent the next few days wondering if she’d made a mistake. Did she want to be in control? Or did she want to experiment with Tobin the way she’d experimented with Andrew?
She honestly didn’t know. But just in case, she scheduled an appointment at the local salon Saturday morning. When Tobin showed up promptly at 4:00 p.m., she was blow-dried, hot waxed, manicured, pedicured, and dressed once again in her new black dress and high heels. Tobin hadn’t seen the dress before so she figured she could get her money’s worth.
And, bless the man, he openly admired what the dress exposed and then kissed her—quite thoroughly. Although his kiss didn’t ignite any fireworks.
She found herself comparing his kiss to Andrew’s. And then she felt guilty for not even thinking about Brandon.
Damn. It looked as if she would need to experiment with a lot of guys before she found someone who could match Andrew Lyndon’s kisses. Clearly experimentation could be lots of fun, especially if it included occasional trips to the opera.
Tobin took her to Fiola Mare, a pricey Mediterranean seafood restaurant on the Georgetown waterfront. Their table commanded a fabulous view of the Potomac, and the menu was nothing short of amazing. It included three different varieties of clams on the half shell as well as caviar and calamari. Tobin seemed ready to wine and dine her in grand style. He offered to buy the $180-per-ounce caviar if she wanted it, but she’d never been a big fan. Instead, she opted for the simply grilled Spanish branzino, which, at $40, was one of the cheapest items on the menu.
Her natural frugality didn’t matter because Tobin bought a $100 bottle of white wine, which was so crisp and tart that she had trouble remembering to sip it. And since they were early for the 7:30 p.m. curtain, he ordered after-dinner drinks that tasted like licorice.
She was definitely feeling a little glow when they arrived at the Kennedy Center, where Tobin added to the alcoholic haze by pressing a flute of champagne into her hands. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t driven herself. She seemed to be making the same mistake with Tobin that she’d made with Connor Strickland. Only she didn’t have a wingman tonight.
Which became an iss
ue after the first act, when the alcoholic haze morphed into a punishing headache above her right eye. Damn. Just her luck. A migraine on opera night seemed like a really bad omen.
When the first intermission arrived, she excused herself and headed for the restroom, where she bypassed the ridiculous line for the toilets in order to gulp down some water and a couple of Excedrin. She never left home without her migraine pills, and if taken early enough, they could knock out a headache in about ten minutes. Unfortunately, this one was fueled by too much wine and had been developing for more than an hour.
She loitered near the restroom until the dimming lights and chimes announced the intermission’s end. The Excedrin had taken a tiny edge off the pounding in her brain, but she still wasn’t feeling very well when she entered the door to the private box. The box seats had a small anteroom separated from the seats by a curtain. She heard Tobin’s voice just as she was ready to walk through the draperies. He was obviously speaking on his cell phone.
“Stop calling me,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll give you a full report tomorrow, okay?”
He paused a moment. “It’s going great. Honestly.”
Laurie stopped in her tracks, the ache in her head morphing into tiny, prickling needles stabbing her right eye.
“No, of course I’m not planning to sleep with her,” Tobin continued. “I get the feeling she’s not into that sort of thing. She’s kind of a nerdy ice maiden, you know? I mean, who likes opera? But I figure that’s a bonus, really. I just have to sit through this opera and pretend I’m enjoying it.”
Another pause, and then he said, “Of course I didn’t buy the tickets. Her father did.”
He stopped talking again and then said, “Look, I have to go. The first intermission is almost over, and she’ll be back any minute. Just remember that I wouldn’t be doing this if she wasn’t the boss’s daughter.”
Laurie backed out of the room. Her head felt about three sizes too big, and her stomach was reacting badly to the wine, fish, and Excedrin. She managed to make it back to the powder room, where she heaved up the $150 dinner Tobin had bought for her. By then, the second act had started, and even though she would miss the famous aria, “Un bel di vedremo,” she had no desire to sit next to Tobin Grant.
