by Noelle Adams
“Is it still okay to help out?” Vince asked, giving him a sidelong look of obvious scrutiny. Vince was smart and observant. And his brother. He could obviously see some of Robert’s reaction.
“Yes,” Robert said, forcing down the excitement and the nerves. “Of course it is. Just consider me on call if Mark can’t make it, and don’t feel bad at all about saying you don’t need me if he manages to get here.”
Charlie smiled, clearly relieved at this solution to his problem.
Vince’s eyes were still on Robert’s face, as if they could see far more than they should.
Robert gave his brother a bland smile.
He was fine. Of course he was fine.
He was over Anne. Completely. He didn’t care about her anymore.
And hopefully by the end of the wedding, he would have proved it to everyone.
Including himself.
ANNE WAS DEALING WITH a flurry of emotion, and she wasn’t used to feeling that way.
She’d been looking forward to Jane and Charlie’s wedding. Jane was one of her best friends, and she’d always loved weddings.
But she hadn’t known that Robert was going to be included in the wedding party.
She understood how it happened. One of Charlie’s friends had a personal emergency and couldn’t make it, so Robert had volunteered to step in.
But still. She’d been doing so well for the past few weeks. She’d been focusing on developing a business plan. She’d been exercising more and drinking more water and enjoying time with her friends. She’d been saying no to her sister when she was asked to do something unreasonable.
She hadn’t—hadn’t—been brooding about Robert. She couldn’t help it if she got jittery every time she caught a glimpse of him. That didn’t count. Overall, she’d done well, and she didn’t need to be in close quarters with him for an entire weekend.
It might jar her out of her current emotional health.
But there was nothing she could do about it, so she kept smiling as the wedding rehearsal began at six o’clock on a Friday evening.
Robert was sitting on a pew at the front of the church, his bad leg extended. He was wearing a suit like the rest of the men, and he looked particularly handsome with the well-tailored clothes contrasting with his unshaven jaw and his heavy, sensual eyes. He hadn’t looked at Anne since he’d sat down. His focus was on Jane’s mother and the wedding coordinator from the historic church, who were discussing organization and procedure.
Mrs. Berkley was a lot like Riot—attractive and charming and rather frivolous and with a great eye for aesthetics. Her desire to be involved in Berkley’s Antiques and her lack of any financial sense had nearly thrown the business into bankruptcy, but she was a well-intentioned woman and Anne had always liked her.
She didn’t like how Mrs. Berkley had been treating Robert since they’d arrived at the church.
Like Robert was part of the family.
Like he and Riot were a done deal.
In fact, the thought made Anne feel rather sick.
She knew he and Riot had been thrown together a lot over the past few weeks, and it was obvious that Robert didn’t mind spending time with her. He’d paid the girl special attention, and Anne wasn’t fool enough not to know it probably meant something.
As far as she could tell, they hadn’t actually gone out on a date together. Liz definitely would have told her if they had.
But Anne could see where Robert’s interest seemed to lie, and she tried to accept it.
It wasn’t her business anymore.
But still... Riot would be a terrible match for Robert. They had nothing in common, and their differences weren’t the kind that complemented each other.
Maybe Robert found Riot attractive, but he wouldn’t be happy with her.
Anne knew he wouldn’t. There was absolutely no question in her mind about that fact.
But it wasn’t her concern anymore, so she tried not to resent the way Mrs. Berkley was already treating Robert like he would soon be her new son-in-law.
“Are you okay?”
Anne jerked her eyes away from Robert as she turned toward the familiar voice. Liz. She’d come up to Anne’s side and had murmured the question so no one else could hear. “Of course I’m okay,” Anne replied with a smile.
“I’m sorry about this. I know it makes it kind of awkward for you.”
“It doesn’t make it awkward. I’ve told you a million times it’s fine. What kind of grown-up would I be if I couldn’t make it through a wedding weekend with my ex?”
Liz slanted her a knowing look. “You’d be a normal grown-up. Everyone would feel awkward in this situation.”
“Okay. I feel a little awkward. But I’m fine. And if he wants to hook up with Riot, I’m fine with that too.” Saying the words made her feel a little sick, but she was convinced they were true.
Mostly.
“Oh God, I hope not. They’d be terrible together. Both of them would be miserable.”
“That’s what I think too, but I’m not in the position to say so. To anyone. He’s my ex. I can’t do anything but smile and be fine with it.”
Liz laughed softly and gave Anne a quick hug. “I know. You’re doing great. I can’t imagine anyone else doing better. You haven’t been snide even once.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know. And the weekend will be over before you know it. Weddings always pass in a blurry rush.”
Anne hoped her friend was right.
THE REHEARSAL TOOK forever since Mrs. Berkley kept ordering everyone around but wasn’t organized enough to get people in the correct position.
Between Jane and the wedding coordinator, they finally overruled Mrs. Berkley and managed a walk-through of the ceremony. As Anne had feared, she was paired up with Robert.
She was the shortest of the bridesmaids, and Robert was put at the end because he was hampered by his limp.
It wasn’t a problem. She walked down the aisle by herself, and then she stood the full distance from Robert at the front of the church. The only time she had to be close to him was as they were recessing out.
She had to hold his arm then, but that wasn’t a problem.
He barely even met her eyes.
He could have been a stranger.
After six years, he might as well have been a stranger.
She had a little headache as the rehearsal ended, and everyone made their way to the downtown restaurant where they were having the rehearsal dinner. It was in a historic building, and they’d reserved a big private room in the back. The tables were set beautifully, and there was a string quartet in the corner of the room to provide musical accompaniment.
Charlie’s family had paid for the dinner, and they were very wealthy, so everything was top of the line.
Anne had to sit at a table with members of the wedding party who weren’t family.
Which meant she had to sit next to Robert.
He still didn’t say a word to her.
If he would just be light and casual, she was sure she would have felt better. They could be polite acquaintances and nothing more. This wall of tension would be dispelled, and Anne could feel better again.
But he didn’t talk to her. He didn’t even look at her. He smiled and chatted with everyone else.
Just not with her.
Her headache intensified and so did a lump in her throat.
Maybe she deserved it. She’d broken his heart back in college. She’d rejected him, and she understood how hard it had been for him to deal with.
But it had been six years.
It wasn’t right for him to still be treating her like she was toxic.
She’d always done the best she could.
Because she was so upset, she drank too much of the merlot they were serving, and she didn’t eat much of her steak and scalloped potatoes. Her head pulsed with suppressed emotions, and every time she forced a smile at the other people at the table, it felt like her face would shatter.
When the meal was finally over, she knew that all that was left was the champagne toast, but several minutes passed and the servers didn’t appear with the champagne.
She saw Jane looked worriedly over at Charlie’s parents, who were the kind of people who might raise a fuss if service they paid for didn’t go smoothly, so Anne stood up and met Jane’s eyes, silently indicating that she’d go check on it.
Jane smiled with relief, and Anne slipped out of the room quietly to find a server to hurry them up.
She called out when she saw a young man in the hallway who was heading for the kitchen. “Excuse me?”
The man turned around.
“We’re waiting in there for the champagne. Is it coming soon?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for the delay. We had some... problems.” He looked hassled and stressed, and Anne immediately felt sorry for him.
“Okay. But please be as quick as you can. Some people are getting impatient.”
“I really apologize. It won’t be long.”
Anne smiled at him. “That’s okay. Just do the best you can.”
“Don’t just do the best you can,” a male voice came from behind her, startling her so much she gave a little jump. “Do the job you were paid to do and get moving.”
Anne whirled around to see Robert standing right behind her and giving the server an intimidating frown.
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The man made a quick exit for the kitchen.
Anne’s headache was throbbing now behind her right eye, and the light in the hallway felt too harsh and bright. She glared up at Robert. “There was no reason to be so rude.”
“Rude? Do you have any idea how much Charlie’s parents paid for this dinner? And you’re standing here telling the guy to do the best he can? You can’t let people push you around.” He was looking at her for real. At last. But his expression wasn’t soft and kind. It was almost fierce.
Like he was angry.
At her.
She stiffened her spine. “I’m not letting anyone push me around.”
“Yes, you were. You accepted a ridiculous excuse.”
“But the poor guy looked upset. It probably wasn’t his fault that there was a delay. You think it’s right to yell at him for something that might not be in his control?” Her voice was sharp now too. She wasn’t going to put up with Robert talking to her this way, no matter how she’d hurt him in the past.
“I didn’t tell you to yell at him. Just that you need to be firm. You always let people push you around. You never did have a backbone.”
She suddenly realized what was prompting the incongruity of his mood. He wasn’t upset about the conversation with the server.
He was talking about the past.
About how she’d let her family convince her to turn down his proposal.
He was still angry about it. Still blaming her for it.
Her skin had broken out into a clammy sweat, and her head hurt so much she could hardly see straight, like the tight coil of intense emotion she was holding inside her was getting too big and starting to shove against the inside of her skull.
She was so upset she couldn’t speak. She stared up at him, panting and clenching her fists at her side.
He was big and hot and intense and sexy.
She couldn’t stand him at the moment.
And she still wanted him so much.
Finally she managed to force some words out. “Screw you, Robert Darcy. You wouldn’t know a real backbone if I yanked it out and hit you over the head with it.”
All right. That wasn’t the most articulate comeback she could have thought of. But they were the only words she could shape in her current condition.
Deciding she better leave before her head exploded in pain, she whirled around and strode back to the dining room with as much righteous indignation as she could muster.
She was almost dizzy as she returned to her seat. Her stomach churned, and she could barely keep her eyes open against her headache.
She suddenly realized it was a migraine.
She got them occasionally, although she’d learned to recognize the signs and prevent them from becoming too bad.
She hadn’t caught it in time this time.
She was pale and cold and shaking and praying that the toasts wouldn’t last very long.
Robert returned to the table. She could feel him looking at her, but she didn’t have the focus to check out his expression.
She didn’t care.
She just needed to get through this dinner, and then she could go to bed and collapse.
Surely it wouldn’t last much longer.
She couldn’t even follow events as flutes of champagne were passed out and Vince stood up to give the first toast.
He said some things, and they must have been both funny and touching, based on the responses of people around her, but she had absolutely no idea what he said.
She sipped her champagne with everyone else.
Then she realized she shouldn’t have done so.
Her hand shook on the stem of the flute as she fought off consecutive waves of heat and cold. Her skin was damp with perspiration. Her stomach heaved.
As discreetly as she could manage, she slipped out of her chair as Vince sat down and Liz stood up. As soon as she’d cleared the room, she ran for the bathroom.
She made it into a stall just in time to vomit painfully into the toilet.
Her head hurt even more once she’d emptied her stomach, and she slumped to the cold tile floor, crying and shaking.
She wasn’t sure how long she huddled there. It couldn’t have been very long. Then she heard the bathroom door open and the water in the sink.
She hadn’t locked the door to her stall, and it opened without warning.
She managed to peer up between her mostly closed eyes to see that Robert was bending over.
“Oh God,” she gasped. “What are you—”
“Can you sit up?” he asked softly. Not gently. Just soft. “I can’t kneel down with this damn leg.”
She somehow found the will to push herself up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall. It was some lingering remnant of pride that didn’t want Robert to see her this way. So abjectly humiliated.
Once she was sitting up, he was able to wipe her face with the wad of paper towels he’d gotten wet.
The cool wetness felt good against her clammy skin. “I’m okay,” she managed to say.
“No, you aren’t. Why didn’t you say you were getting a migraine?”
“I didn’t... know.”
He handed her a glass of water he must have taken from the table when he left. “Here. Try to drink some of this.”
“I can’t.”
“Do it anyway.”
Back in college, he’d taken care of her sometimes when she’d been sick or had a migraine, and he’d always been incredibly tender and gentle.
He wasn’t like that now.
He was neutral. Almost matter-of-fact. Not like he really cared about her.
But he was taking care of her just the same.
She sipped the water and breathed deeply, keeping her eyes closed and praying she could keep the water down.
She did.
And after a minute, she felt stable enough to get to her feet.
Her head throbbed sickeningly, and she would have slumped to the floor again had Robert not steadied her with one arm around her waist.
The gesture was practical. Not affectionate. He was merely keeping her on her feet. But she leaned on him anyway. She didn’t have a choice.
“I’ll take you home,” he said as they limped out of the bathroom stall.
“I can’t... leave without...”
“I’ll get you to the car and then go back and tell Jane and Liz what happened. You can’t go back into that dining room in this condition.” His voice was dry—a reminder that he didn’t even like her anymore.
She nodded, unable to argue even had she wanted to
. She leaned on him as they left the building and made it to his car. Because his right leg was still fully functional, Robert was able to drive now, although the doctor had been clear that he shouldn’t drive more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time.
Pemberley House was only five minutes away.
He helped her into the passenger seat and left her there without a word as he went back inside.
He was walking a lot better now, only leaning slightly on the cane.
He’d be back to full form in not long.
He’d return to his job in the Navy.
She’d never seen him again.
She closed her eyes and tried not to sob as she focused only on breathing.
A few tears slipped past her closed eyelids and slid down her face, but there was nothing she could do about that.
It seemed like no time at all had passed when the driver’s door opened, making her gasp and straighten up.
It was a mistake. The throbbing pain intensified, and she put a hand on her churning stomach.
Robert frowned. “Close your eyes. I’d rather you not puke in my car.”
She would have been angry if she hadn’t felt so bad. All she managed was a faint, “Screw you.”
He didn’t reply to that at all, and she kept her eyes closed the entire drive home.
HE PARKED AS CLOSE to the front door of Pemberley House as possible, and then he walked around to help her out of the car.
She leaned on him as they hobbled to her unit on the ground floor.
Her sister and brother-in-law were already in bed, and all the lights were out. Robert took her keys and opened the door, and then he helped her through the entryway and living area and into the bedroom she indicated.
His arm was still around her as they reached her bed, but she pulled away from it as she sat down on the edge.
“Is that your bathroom?” he asked, nodding toward a door open just a crack.
“Yes. I need three Advil and—”
“I know what you need.” He walked into the bathroom, and she heard the medicine cabinet open and pills rattle in a bottle. He came back with his hand full of pills. There was a mostly full bottle of water on her nightstand, so he unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to her with the pills.
