“I said come here.” It had been a while since he’d heard Phil Dalton issue a command in his no-nonsense, authoritative voice, the one he used to unleash when he was bringing five unruly boys to heel.
And just like a reluctant eight-year-old, Cole hung his head, his feet dragging through the dirt as he stepped into his father’s embrace. The older man’s arms were still as big and almost as strong as they’d been when Cole was a little boy, and the shoulder he offered now was just as tough and comforting as it had always been.
“It wasn’t your fault,” his dad whispered as he squeezed his son tighter. “And I’ll let you in on a little secret—it wasn’t Booker’s fault, or Zach’s, or Shawn’s, or Garrett’s, neither. Like I said, every one of us has our own reasons for feeling like we were responsible. But at the end of the day, it was a terrible and tragic accident, and your mama would hate for us to be kicking ourselves over it this way.”
Cole shuddered. The weight hadn’t exactly been lifted from him, but hearing his father’s words, feeling the old man’s love wrapped around him, Cole knew that they shared the same burden. And his dad was right. Diana Dalton would never want them beating themselves up over it.
He clung to his father and they stood there like that for a few minutes, not needing any words to express their shared pain. Then a quick honk forced them to take a step back and look at the arriving vehicle.
“We brought out more fencing supplies,” Booker said as he climbed from his own truck. “You guys having a party out here or what?”
“Nah,” Garrett said as he exited out of the passenger side—after all, nobody was foolish enough to let his lead foot get behind the wheel. “I don’t think Cole would throw a party without his personal party planner here to help him.”
A bristling sensation made its way down Cole’s spine. Garrett had been too hungover the morning after the wedding to ask why he’d been at an apartment complex in Kalispell. And even if his brother had asked, Cole certainly wouldn’t have revealed that he’d spent the night with Vivienne. Nor was there any way he would’ve let it slip that he’d actually hired the woman to plan a fake wedding.
“What are you talking about, Garrett?” Cole asked, praying that his brother didn’t actually tell them all what he was talking about. He walked to the back of Booker’s truck and let down the tailgate.
“That pretty wedding planner? Vivienne?” Garrett grabbed some posts and followed behind Cole. “I heard you two were making out at some pie shop in Kalispell.”
“You guys really need to stop getting your gossip from the mailman,” Cole grunted as he rolled a huge spool of barbed wire toward his ATV.
“Nah,” Garrett said. “I got mine from one of the waitresses at Matilda’s. She also works for the caterer who did Zach’s reception and she recognized both of you from the wedding.”
Booker snickered, dropping another load of posts. “Is that the same waitress you went home with? Or her roommate?”
“Neither.” Garrett looked at their dad and at least had the decency to turn an unmanly shade of pink. “Listen. Maybe I had a bit too much to drink that night and was pretty free on who I gave my number to. But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Cole and Vivienne. Should we get the freight house ready for another Dalton wedding?”
Absolutely not was the first thing that came to Cole’s mind. But he gritted his teeth together before they could accuse him of protesting too much. The supplies had already been emptied from Booker’s truck, making it impossible to avoid their curious stares.
“If you boys are so bored that you have time to be standing out here jawing and teasing each other, I’m sure I can find some manure for y’all to haul to the fertilizer plant,” their dad suggested, a classic threat from their childhood.
So far, Garrett had been the only kid who’d ever been reckless enough to actually earn that punishment, and judging by his sly grin, he was about to earn it again. “Dad, we don’t even have any cattle out here yet.”
Booker grabbed their brother by the scruff of his neck. “Don’t worry, Pop. I’ll get this one back to the barn and find him some muck to shovel up.”
The guys threw playful punches at each other, along with some light shoves as they made their way back to the truck. Dust was spitting up from the reversing tires when his dad turned to Cole. “So this wedding planner of yours...”
“She’s not exactly my wedding planner.” Cole hoped a thunderbolt didn’t come from the heavens, striking him down for the borderline lie.
“Right. So this Vivienne of yours... You said you don’t know what’s going on with her right now. Does that mean you’re hoping for something more?”
“Dad, since when do you ask us about our love lives?”
“Since I have to do the job of both parents.” Phil’s words hung in the air and there was no way Cole was going to go back to the emotional subject of his mother’s death. He was better off answering his father’s question about whether he wanted more with Vivienne.
“Maybe. All I know is that I was doing her a favor, and then it just kinda turned into something else.”
Phil lifted a bushy gray eyebrow. “Something else?”
“I don’t know, Dad. Yes, I like her, okay? I thought she liked me. But now that the favor is over and she has no need for my help, I haven’t heard back from her. Part of me wants to check on her and make sure she’s all right because...you know.” Again Cole had accidentally circled around to the topic of his mother, and even he wasn’t so oblivious that he couldn’t see he might be overreacting about not hearing from her. “But the other part of me needs to learn to accept that not every unanswered phone call means someone has a problem. Sometimes, it just means that they’re over it.”
* * *
Vivienne hadn’t returned Cole’s calls right away because she was worried that she might slip and tell him that she’d lost her job. If he found out, there was no doubt he would hop in his truck and floor it all the way to Kalispell wanting to rescue her.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to worry him by totally ignoring the messages and letting him think the worst. So on Tuesday afternoon, she sent him a simple text saying she was working on a few things and would call him soon.
It wasn’t a complete lie. She was working on a few things, namely finding gainful employment. She’d looked at her checking account and, even if she only bought food for Lord Nibbles and limited her grocery-store spending to the bare minimum, she’d barely be able to afford two more months of rent.
Picking up her cell phone and making this call wasn’t her first choice. In fact, it felt like an even bigger betrayal to Estelle than the one she’d been accused of. But Vivienne needed a job and it wasn’t until she’d lost hers that she realized how much she would miss doing event planning. Sure, she wasn’t necessarily any good at bringing in new business; however, she was confident in her abilities to give the clients what they wanted.
While Estelle had promised not to completely pulverize Vivienne’s reputation, the woman also hadn’t sent over a glowing letter of recommendation with her final paycheck and the personal belongings Vivienne had been forced to leave behind last Friday.
Which put her in a no-win situation.
Since most of the local vendors knew Estelle, they’d start asking questions the minute Vivienne sent out her first résumé. Some of them were familiar enough with her former boss’s demanding nature that they might sympathize with Vivienne’s less-than-honest approach, but not enough to hire someone they probably wouldn’t trust. Nor could she blame them.
When Rich LaRue had left her a message this morning saying he’d heard that not only had Vivienne and her talents been noticeably absent from Valentina Souza’s quinceañera on Sunday, but she also hadn’t been answering calls at Estelle’s Events, it reaffirmed her belief that the event-planning grapevine was ripe with juicy gossip about her alre
ady.
Watching Lord Nibbles pressed up against the corner of his glass cage—she’d traded out the cheap plastic one he’d come with—Vivienne took comfort in the fact that at least one of them was blissfully unaware and content that their next meal was only a nap away. Her guinea pig was finally overcoming his anxiety issues and she couldn’t risk moving him into the apartment she’d dubbed Heartbreak Hotel the first time her dad had shown up asking for a place to stay.
Having no other choice but to see how bad the damage was going to be to her career, she dialed Rich’s number and only listened to one full ring before he answered.
“Vivienne!” He didn’t attempt to disguise the excitement in his voice. “Is it true? Have you finally told the old dragon that you weren’t going to take her crap anymore?”
“Not exactly, Rich.” She’d been debating how much she should tell him, but once she began talking, it only felt right to disclose the whole thing. Vivienne told him about her inability to land new clients. She told him about Cole’s offer and how she never should have taken it. She even admitted that when she’d run into Rich at the bridal expo, she was there on Estelle’s dime while allowing the woman to believe that she was there working. Okay, so, technically, she had been fulfilling part of her duties by doing research and networking. But she’d also been with Cole, which had made the whole trip feel more like a vacation. A reckless and inappropriate vacation that she never wanted to forget.
Rich tsked and made mmm-hmm sounds while she spoke. When Vivienne finished with the part of how Estelle saw them kissing and fired her there on the spot, he gasped and then let out an almost gleeful squeal. “So you’re officially a free agent? Estelle can’t accuse me of poaching you from her?”
Poaching Vivienne? How could anyone want her after the mess she’d made with Estelle?
“Rich, did you hear what I said? She fired me. And for good reason. She said nobody in town would ever trust me to work for them.”
“Darling, do you think you’re the first person who had to resort to a bit of trickery to get that she-tiger off their back? Denise over at Perfection Confection once faked an emergency gall bladder surgery rather than admit to Estelle that she couldn’t do a wedding cake shaped like a grizzly bear for a couple whose alma mater was UM. Flora, the owner of Flora and Fauna, once told Estelle that red gladiolas were out of season because it was obvious that the bride had her heart set on a white bouquet. She had to hide two buckets full of flowers in the cooler for a month and then sneak them out to the Dumpster in the middle of the night so Estelle wouldn’t see that she had them all along. Even Glory, my own sweet wife who is an absolute saint, lied to Estelle about moving to Florida to take care of her dying mother when she quit ten years ago to marry me. Of course, we all know what happened after that particular ruse came to light.”
“But I lied about Cole being our client,” Vivienne pointed out.
“I thought you said he paid her. And signed a contract?”
“He did...”
“Then he was a client,” Rich argued. “Look, half the vendors in Kalispell only agree to do business with Estelle if they get a guarantee that they’ll only have to work with you.”
“So you don’t think it will be too hard for me to find a new job?”
“You don’t even need to look. I’m hiring you.”
Vivienne’s breath suspended mid-inhale. She had to remind herself to exhale before asking, “You want me to work for you?”
“I’ve been trying to get you to come work for me for ages. But here’s the thing, Viv. LaVish is expanding and I’ve already rented out office space in Denver. I have someone for weddings, but I need an employee who could specialize in event planning.”
“You mean move to Colorado?” Her mind was spinning.
“Yes. Unless you have something or someone keeping you in Montana.” His emphasis could only imply that he was talking about Cole.
However, it wasn’t like she and Cole were in an actual relationship. Or at least in a relationship that had any sort of potential. He’d agreed eagerly that they were just having fun and keeping things casual.
Growing up, one of the biggest complaints Vivienne would hear from her mother was that Bonnie had given up so many opportunities to be a wife, specifically Richard Shuster’s wife. Was Vivienne willing to let an offer like this—which was perfect for her because she’d get to focus on parties, and not get weighed down with all the lovey-dovey romantic details of weddings—pass her by just for some casual fun?
Chapter Fifteen
“I can’t believe Estelle fired you,” Lydia said when Vivienne answered her apartment door the following afternoon. “Zach and I just got back from our honeymoon and I went by the office to drop this off. The woman told me she was surprised I would even want to see your face after what you pulled at my wedding.”
Lydia held up a gift bag stuffed with tissue. She’d called Vivienne’s cell phone a few minutes ago asking if they could meet and Vivienne had invited her over. Though, now that Lydia’s eyes were studying the collapsed packing boxes stacked in the corner of her living room, Vivienne wished she had suggested meeting somewhere else.
“Are you moving?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?” Lydia asked. “Wait. Back up. What does Estelle think you pulled at my wedding? Because as far as I’m concerned, you did an amazing job. I mean, you really went above and beyond.”
Well, she had definitely gone above and beyond with the bride’s new brother-in-law. Vivienne was suddenly hungry and wanted to ask Lydia to walk to the diner. But this really wasn’t a conversation they should have in public. So she went to her small pantry and pulled out a bag of chips. “I don’t have any salsa, but I have a nice bottle of chardonnay that Cole and I won at a bridal expo.”
“I think I’m going to need a seat for this.” Confusion crossed Lydia’s face and the newlywed plopped onto the stiff beige sofa. “Cole went with you to a bridal expo?”
In her cupboard, Vivienne found a single wineglass decorated in pink puffy paint with the words Michelle’s Last Stand. She’d brought it home in a bachelorette party gift bag when one of Michelle’s cousins failed to show up for the festivities because she didn’t like the fuchsia bridesmaid dress she was being forced to wear. There was some boycotting involved and sides were taken until Vivienne had finally gotten the bride to compromise on having a tailor remove the puffy sleeves.
Vivienne brought the wineglass over to the coffee table, along with a coffee mug bearing the logo of a company that had hired her to throw their corporate holiday party. Hmm. She’d never realized before now how sad it was that she didn’t even have a set of matching glasses, let alone a single throw pillow, to pack in those moving boxes.
Handing Lydia the bag of corn chips, Vivienne went to work with the corkscrew. “Cole only went with me because he’d hired me to plan his wedding and we had to go to Billings to get his fiancée’s signature for the contract.”
Vivienne was glad she hadn’t poured any wine yet because Lydia surely would’ve choked on hers had she taken a drink. “What?” she sputtered.
“Let me start at the beginning,” Vivienne offered, then proceeded to come clean to the woman who’d once trusted her. She had to refill Lydia’s wine during the telling, but her guest had yet to take a sip of the second glass.
“So, why does Estelle think you pulled something at my wedding?”
“I have no idea. Maybe she thinks that’s when I started my affair with Cole.”
“Is it?” Lydia asked, then took a hefty drink.
Vivienne didn’t want to talk about the intimate details but admitted, “We, uh, had to share a hotel room when we went to Billings, so things had already turned physical before your wedding.”
“Okay, but if you and Cole are in a relationship—which I totally approve of, by the way—what’s with the mo
ving boxes?” The woman worked for the local paper and really didn’t miss a detail.
“I don’t think we’re in an actual relationship. I mean, we both agreed to keep things casual.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t told him that you’ve been fired?”
“Are you kidding? If I did, he’d try to fix it. And that’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”
“You said ‘mess.’” Lydia studied her. “If it’s supposed to be casual, then how did it get messy?”
“I meant me losing my job. But I guess somewhere along the way, my feelings for him got a little complicated, too.”
“Do you love him?”
“I think so. But if he doesn’t love me, what’s the point in staying?”
Lydia seemed to ponder this a moment before tilting her head. “You know, it’s been my experience that the Dalton men don’t always know what they want, even if it’s right in front of them.”
“But I’ve never been a pusher and love shouldn’t have to be forced.”
“Does he know you’re moving?”
Vivienne bit her lower lip and slowly shook her head. “But I will tell him.”
By the time Lydia left, Vivienne was already second-guessing her promise. Especially after she unwrapped the gift, which was a framed picture of Vivienne with Lydia and Zach on their wedding day. No other couple had ever thought to include her when commemorating their big day. She was supposed to stay in the background, to not get emotionally invested.
She knew that it was only right to tell Cole that she was leaving, but she wasn’t sure of the best way to say it. The last thing she wanted was to come across as needing him to save her, because that’s exactly what he would try to do.
The truth was, Vivienne wanted to be loved, not rescued.
* * *
“Just wanted to let you know that I got a job offer in Denver. I can never tell you how much you meant to...how much it meant that you helped me out with Estelle. Anyway, I wanted to thank you and wish you the best.”
The Maverick's Bridal Bargain Page 16
