by Cheryl Holt
She kept on, and he sharply said, “Jen! What’s wrong with you?”
“If you have to ask, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Would you calm down?”
“Believe me. I’m very, very calm.”
“I’ll find you in the morning. We can have breakfast together.”
“Check your schedule, Eric, if you can muster any interest in it. You’re having breakfast with your brother and your parents.”
“Oh.”
She spun away, and he called to her again, but she didn’t stop. He even shouted at her down the hall, but she ignored him. He didn’t chase her down, and she couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or not. With how irate she was, they couldn’t have had a civil discussion, but why wouldn’t he rush after her?
Wasn’t he concerned that she was upset? Wasn’t he worried that they’d just had their first fight?
Maybe he was so determined to party with Josh that he couldn’t focus on any other topic, and her spirits sank. What if he was finally showing her who he really was?
His dad could be hideously cruel, and Dennis’s treatment of Sharon Kildare still resulted in occasional cannon fodder for the tabloids. Eric didn’t seem to possess his dad’s worst traits, but then, they hadn’t yet been in a situation where he’d have had a chance to exhibit them.
She wasn’t exactly clear on how to be a bride, but she had to pick her battles. He was simply eager to have some drinks with his oldest friend. Was that so bad?
The minute she asked herself the question, she knew the answer: He was being incredibly inconsiderate, and she was correct to be incensed. So . . . what now?
She had absolutely no idea.
He was strolling down a lighted path, approaching the Inn, when a side door opened, and Eric stepped out. Josh was with him. They were being very furtive, as if they were engaged in mischief, and if they were, Alex wouldn’t be surprised.
Eric was a vain prick, and while Josh wasn’t quite as horrid, they egged each other on in disgusting ways.
The Inn’s driveway curved by the front of the building, and a car was waiting for them. They were headed toward it and didn’t notice him.
“Eric!” he said, and it probably seemed as if a ghost was speaking.
His brother jumped and glared into the dark, and Alex leaned over so he was visible under a lamp.
“Geez, Alex,” Eric said. “Why are you lurking in the shadows? You scared the life out of me.”
“Sorry.” Alex wasn’t sorry. “Hey, Josh. It’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you could attend.”
Josh grinned his megawatt grin, the one that made women faint. “I could say the same. It’s a nice surprise to have you stagger in.”
“My dad guilted me into it. Once he started nagging, I couldn’t refuse.”
“Why are you out here all by yourself?” Eric asked.
“I was so full after that huge supper that I had to take a walk. What are you guys doing?”
“We’re going to have a drink.”
“Where at?”
He sounded like a stern babysitter, but he couldn’t help it. If the spoiled pair was sneaking off, there was no predicting what nonsense they might pursue. It was entirely possible that they’d grow so intoxicated that they’d simply forget to come back.
The next time he heard from them, they might be lounged on a beach in Mexico, hungover, and trying to recall how they’d gotten there. They did things like that. They were rich and oblivious, and they never pondered the consequences of their actions. They didn’t think they should have to, and ramifications never rained down.
“There’s a bar inside,” he said, knowing it was pointless to scold his brother. Eric would always carry on outrageously. In that, he was exactly like their father. “Why don’t you have drinks there with your guests?”
“We’ll return shortly,” Eric said.
“What about Jennifer?”
“What about her?” Eric rudely retorted.
“Doesn’t she mind your leaving?”
Eric bristled, as if Alex had struck a nerve, and Josh intervened by laying a hand on Eric’s arm and saying, “We should go.”
“Sure,” Eric agreed, and to Alex he said, “We’re having breakfast with Mom and Dad in the morning. I’ll see you then.”
They sauntered off, all long legs and macho swagger, and Alex nearly spat on the ground with contempt. He was certain Eric would be too hungover to meet anyone for breakfast. He might not even be back at the Inn in the morning. He was that irresponsible.
Alex stood, frozen in his spot until their driver tucked them into the car and they were whisked off. Then he spun away. He’d traveled for two days and should have been exhausted and jetlagged, but for some reason, he was alert and awake. He wanted to talk and party and have as much fun as he could in the brief period he’d spend in the US.
It was hard to visit his mom, hard to socialize with his father and brother. He felt as if he and his mother were war survivors who’d been battered by Dennis and Eric. The parents’ supper had been a typical example of how deep their divides had become, and he truly couldn’t figure out why his mother had consented to put herself through such an ordeal.
The whole event had dredged up such bad memories. His mother had tolerated the meal much better than Alex had, so maybe she was finally moving on with her life. As to himself, he simply never reflected on the past.
Crystal, Dennis, and Eric were despicable, and he never let their negative energy impact him. He was a wealthy, trust fund baby, so he had the money to stay far away from them. He hated to abandon his mother, and he was concerned about her, but he couldn’t heal the wounds his father had inflicted.
Alex lived in Kenya and was employed by a nonprofit that drilled water wells. It was difficult, satisfying work that kept him centered, and he was eager to return to it. In the interim, he had two weeks to loaf in the First World, and he intended to indulge on the food and luxury that were available.
He walked to the bar behind the Great Room. It was filled with people, and he was acquainted with many of them. With Eric refusing to show himself, Alex thought he should take his brother’s place and prove himself to be the courteous sibling.
He searched for Jennifer, but didn’t see her anywhere, and he was worried about how she’d have viewed Eric leaving with Josh. His mother had mentioned that Jennifer didn’t know Eric very well. They’d only dated for a few months, so she hadn’t had an upfront and clear chance to discover what he was really like.
Alex was introduced to her dour, grumpy sister, Rachel, and when he asked where Jennifer was, she sent him to the rear patio. He wandered outside, and there was a crowd there too, but no Jennifer, and he imagined she’d given up and gone to bed.
After a bit, he went down the stairs to the path that meandered into the woods. He was anxious to stroll for awhile and enjoy the crisp night air, then he’d head to bed too.
He stumbled on her, seated by herself in the dark. There were individual cabins behind the Inn, and she was sitting on the steps of one, drinking a beer, and watching her guests laugh and mingle without her.
He pointed to the spot next to her on the step. “May I join you?”
“Would you think I was a bitch if I said no?”
“No, I wouldn’t think that, but I’ll ignore you and sit down anyway.”
He plopped down, and they were silent, the interval a tad uncomfortable. She pretended he wasn’t there, and he let her pretend.
“You’re missing your party,” he ultimately said.
“I’m not in a very good mood, so I’m hiding.”
“I know Eric skipped out on you.”
She glanced over at him. “How do you know that?”
“I bumped into him and Josh as they were skulking out to their car.” He shrugged. “I’m s
orry.”
“About what?”
“My brother can be an asshole on occasion. He’s a lot like my dad, so he doesn’t notice when he hurts someone.”
“Has he always been that way?”
“Yes, and Josh encourages him. As kids, they were spoiled brats, and now, they’re adults with too much money. They can be obnoxious.”
“Will they come back tonight?”
“They’ll come back,” he said, but he wasn’t convinced they would. He couldn’t bear to tell her that though. She looked too miserable, so he changed the subject. “You survived the parents’ supper.”
“Just barely.”
“You were very brave to proceed with it. I wish you’d asked me first though. I could have told you it’s futile to have my mother and Crystal together on the same continent. It’s not possible for them to socialize.”
“Silly me. I thought I could host a normal meal, like a normal bride.” She was holding a bottle of beer, and she downed a swig, then morosely added, “Guess not.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it. My family is crazy, and it’s not your job to fix our problems.”
“Thanks for the advice. Or was that a warning? Dare I have the rehearsal dinner? Or should I cancel it?”
He chuckled. “I will personally force my relatives to behave. I’ll wrestle them to the floor and gag them if that’s what it takes for them to act like human beings.”
“Can you manage it? Especially with Eric? He’s bigger than you.”
“Yes, but I fight dirty. It’s how I won against him when we were boys.”
She blew out a heavy breath, and he studied her, thinking she was very pretty, fresh-faced and brimming with good health, like a yoga instructor at an expensive spa. He could absolutely picture Eric becoming infatuated with her, but there was nothing about her that would bind him over the long haul.
Eric sought constant adulation and excitement, constant variation of scenery and people. Jennifer, with her ordinary background and upbringing, could never make Eric happy. In fact, there was probably no woman who could. He craved more and different and better so, in the end, he’d regret picking her.
It meant she would wind up regretting it too. Why hadn’t anybody explained that to Eric before he’d proposed?
Then again, no one could have because no one could tell Eric anything.
Alex hadn’t asked his mother about the pre-nuptial agreement, but he assumed Dennis would have coerced Jennifer into signing a really awful contract. Eric would use and abuse her until he got bored, then he’d walk away. Jennifer would be brokenhearted and alone, just like his mother.
Alex was angered by the prospect, and he was very worried about her, but they were strangers, so he wasn’t in any position to lecture her about Eric’s many character flaws, the main one being that he was a total narcissist and always had been.
It was too late anyway, so Alex needed to swallow his reservations and smile incessantly. That’s how a guest was supposed to conduct himself at a wedding, and maybe she’d have a few uneventful years with Eric. Alex had to cross his fingers and hope for the best.
“When Eric snuck off,” he said, “I told myself I should take his place at the party. It seems as if I should be there to represent.”
“No offense, Alex, but who’s even noticed that Eric and I aren’t there?”
“Your sister noticed.”
“Which one? Rachel?”
“Yes, she was complaining that you were being very rude for vanishing.”
“She complains about me. It’s her designated role as my sibling.”
“Let’s yank away her reason for criticizing you. Let’s hang out in the bar, and if we’re asked about Eric, we’ll say he’s an asshole, and we have no idea where he is.”
She snorted at that. “I’d rather stay outside.”
“Coward.” He stood and extended his hand to her. “Eric didn’t want to have fun with your friends, but I flew all the way from Africa to celebrate your wedding. Help me celebrate it.”
She stared at him, at the Inn, at him again. The moment spun out forever, and finally, she said, “Do you truly expect him to come back? He won’t go on some wild binge and forget we’re here, will he?”
“I swear he’ll be back.”
“All righty then.” She nodded fiercely. “Screw him. Let’s party.”
She grabbed hold, and he lifted her to her feet.
“I can’t decide what to do now.”
“What would you like to do?”
Amy smiled at Jennifer, wishing she’d gone to college and studied psychology. Her little sister needed a counselor. Or a miracle worker. They were talking about Eric and how he’d snuck out the prior night with Josh.
To Amy, it seemed to be horrid behavior, but what did she know about rich, entitled men? Maybe they all acted so hideously, and they’d viewed it as being perfectly natural to skip out on the nuptial festivities.
It was Friday morning, just nine o’clock, and there had been no word from Eric. Jennifer wasn’t sure he was even back at the Inn. Amy was probably much too old-fashioned, but she thought Eric should have been pounding on their door at dawn and begging Jennifer to forgive him.
And what about Josh? Amy assumed she had some idea of the sort of person he was, but apparently, she didn’t have a clue. Why would he have encouraged or abetted Eric? It was awful conduct—on both their parts.
“I’d like to murder him,” Jennifer said.
“That’s not in the cards,” Amy said, “so how about if you pick another ending?”
“I suppose I should track him down to see if we can have a civil conversation, but if we can’t, if he’s a prick again, then what? I might be crazy, but I happen to think he should be here, apologizing to me. Am I wrong to feel that way?”
“No. You’ve definitely been mistreated.”
But the wedding was a day away. The bridal lunch was in a few hours, and the rehearsal dinner would be held that evening. At such a late juncture, did it matter if there was a mistreated party? Didn’t they have to shake off the incident and move forward?
They were in their suite, seated at the table in the sitting room. Their dad and Kyle were still asleep, but Amy and her sisters were up and debating choices.
They’d ordered room service and had had breakfast delivered, but they didn’t have much of an appetite. Mostly, they were sipping coffee and pushing eggs around on their plates.
Rachel, who was never supportive in any situation, said, “If I were you, I’d dump his ass.”
“Rachel!” Amy’s tone was scolding.
“She’s not married to him yet,” Rachel replied, “and there’s no law to decree she has to go through with it. If he’s this much of a jerk right now, imagine how he’ll carry on after she’s his wife.”
“I love Eric,” Jennifer insisted, “and I would never back out.”
“Why not?” Rachel asked. “It’s not as if you paid for the stupid thing. Let’s pack our bags and head for home. Dennis Benjamin can eat the financial loss on any deposits. You’ll be free of the whole, sick family.”
Jennifer looked as if she might faint, and Amy quietly said, “Rachel, you’re not helping. Jennifer isn’t about to call it off, so it’s pointless to suggest it. You’re adding to her anxiety.”
Rachel was undeterred. “Eric is the one who needs to fix this. He is the one who was a complete dick to you.” More snidely, she asked, “Why isn’t he here, down on his knees, and oozing remorse?”
There was a knock on the door, and they stared at each other, none of them jumping up to answer. Who could it be? Eric maybe? Could they be that lucky? Evidently, they were too afraid to find out.
The knock sounded again, and Amy stood. “I’ll see who it is.”
She went over and encountered a bellman with a cart. It was l
oaded down with bouquets of roses, in all colors and sizes. Their sweet aroma filled the air.
“My goodness,” Amy said. “What’s this?”
“They’re for Miss Layton,” he responded, which didn’t clarify anything because they were all Miss Layton.
He offered a card, and the name, Jennifer, was written on the front. She turned to her sister and said, “They’re for you.”
Jennifer frowned. “Who are they from?”
They gaped at the bellman, but he was simply the messenger, and he shrugged. Amy handed the card to Jen, and she ripped open the envelope. As she read what had been penned, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“They’re from Eric. He’s really sorry, and he wants to have mimosas with me down on the patio.”
She leapt up, instantly happier than she probably should have been, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. For the moment, crisis was averted, and she waved to the bellman. “Bring them in and put them wherever there’s space.”
They watched as he arranged vases on tables, dressers, and even the floor in the corner until it seemed as if they were trapped in a greenhouse.
Once he walked out, Jennifer grabbed Amy in a tight hug and said, “I have to go. We’re meeting right now.”
“Have fun,” Amy said.
“I will! I will!”
She rushed out, barely remembering keycard and sweater. Amy and Rachel gazed at each other, then Amy sank down on her chair.
Rachel said, “I still haven’t told her there was no storm in New York on Wednesday.”
“You’re not telling her either.”
“Shouldn’t she be apprised? Especially after last night? If I was his fiancée, I’d certainly consider it to be valuable information.”
“It’s not valuable or necessary. She’s proceeding with the wedding, and you and I are not about to dissuade her, so why mention it?”
“What should we do then?”
“We’re her sisters. We’ll simply wish her well and celebrate with her.”
“And what if it crashes down later on?”
“Then . . . we’ll be there to pick up the pieces.”
