“My mistake,” Garrett murmured, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. “I must have confused this place with another one.”
His aunt took another long drink and turned to his uncle. “We should see about having some of this at the rehearsal dinner barbeque.”
“Rehearsal dinner barbeque?” Garrett asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Blair’s brow lowered. “It’s a western theme.”
Garrett fought to keep from laughing. Blair was hosting a western-themed dinner? “Will there be square dancing?”
Blair’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
His aunt’s mouth pinched with irritation. “As you can see, Blair put her foot down.”
“Come on, Blair,” Garrett teased. “Everyone loves a good do-si-do or an allemande, right?”
Blair’s eyes lit up with challenge. “You know how to square dance, Garrett?”
“Oh, you know me. I like to see the skirts flying.”
Neil pounced on his words. “How would she know that, Garrett?”
Something in his tone caught Garrett off guard. It was almost as if he knew about their past together and was challenging Garrett to admit to it. And he wanted to. But Blair’s eyes were wild with panic, so he vowed to himself that he would keep quiet about it, at least for now. He’d stirred up enough trouble for the moment. “Oh, just something from the deposition, right, Blair?”
She looked torn. It was a lie, and she hated lies, preferring omission as her word-weapon of choice. So she gave him a haughty look and took another drink of her lemonade.
Garrett needed to steer the conversation away from Blair. “Neil, Mom tells me that you’re a doctor here in town.”
Neil studied him for several seconds as if gauging whether he was serious. “I work at St. Luke’s in infectious disease.”
“So do you spend more time in the hospital or in an office?”
Neil’s eyes narrowed. “You just laid claim to my fiancée’s ring and now you want to make polite conversation?”
His cousin only had it half right, but then he’d always been an idiot. Garrett had no idea how the guy had managed to fumble his way through medical school. “I said we’d wait for Nana Ruby to help decide. It’s about time she got involved in this anyway, don’t you think?”
“She says she doesn’t want to get involved,” Uncle Gene said. Everyone looked over at him in surprise. He wasn’t one to give his opinions. Obviously the beer had loosened his tongue.
Aunt Debra frowned. “Yes, Mother says we need to work it out ourselves.”
Garrett loved his mother, but she was one of the most stubborn women he’d ever met. His Aunt Debra was a very close second. Nana Ruby was no fool, so it was understandable why she’d tried to extricate herself from the situation.
“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on with this ring?” Blair demanded, fire in her eyes.
He’d expected the question minutes ago, but the Curse Kitty and the hard lemonade must have distracted her. That, or she’d wanted to wait for her drink before dealing with the mess.
Neil shot Garrett a glare and gave her a condensed version of the story.
“Why am I just now hearing about the controversy over this damned ring?” she asked, her jaw set.
“It wasn’t something you needed to worry about, dear,” Aunt Debra said, then lifted her jar and shook it. “You owe the jar a dollar.”
Blair shot Neil an exasperated glare, then dug out a dollar before flagging down the waiter so she could order another hard lemonade.
“Give me another one too,” Debra called after him. “It’s really very good.”
Their food arrived, and Debra became more and more uninhibited. Garrett had a hard time hiding his snicker, but Neil looked worried.
Neil got in multiple digs at Garrett over the course of the dinner, but it was easy to ignore him, particularly because Blair was at the table. He was dying to find out more about her life. He thought about waiting, but it would be considered normal for him to ask a new acquaintance questions about her career.
“So, Blair,” Garrett said as she cut her pork with a knife and fork. “When did you start at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece?”
“Blair is a career woman,” Debra said, slurring her words. She leaned her elbow on the table. It slipped on the surface, and she nearly fell face first into her baked beans.
Garrett grabbed her upper arm and helped her upright. “There you go.”
She gave him an exaggerated look of confusion as she patted the top of her head. “I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”
Neil shot daggers at him across the table. “I blame you for this, Garrett.”
Neil’s mother shook her head, almost falling out of her chair. “Garrett’s being a perfect gentleman, Neilson.” Then she added, “For once.”
His cousin looked furious.
“Blair doesn’t like to keep house or cook,” Debra continued. “She hires someone to clean.” His aunt spat out the sentence as though she’d just declared that Blair drowned puppies for sport.
“After watching Blair in action, I’m certain she’s exactly where she needs to be,” Garrett said.
Blair’s eyes widened at the compliment, but Neil’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And where’s that, Garrett?”
Blair tensed, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“As a practicing attorney, Neil. What else could I be referring to?”
Blair took a deep breath and released it, her resolve returning. “I love what I do and have no intention of giving it up.” She gave Garrett a withering glance. “And while Mr. Lowry is trying to appear gracious, I have no doubt that this is just a tactic to throw me off before our depositions tomorrow.” Her upper lip curled. “But I can assure you it won’t work.”
Is that how she saw this? An elaborate attempt to sabotage her strategy? She should know better than to think he’d employ such tactics. He’d always preferred a fair, equal match. It was the only way he could know he’d won fair and square. But he’d let her down in almost every way possible, so maybe she didn’t believe him capable of anything good.
He suddenly felt like he was fighting a hopeless battle.
Chapter Seven
Garrett backed off the rest of dinner, and Debra got more and more inebriated. When she ordered her third hard lemonade, Garrett pulled the waiter aside and requested that he deliver her a regular lemonade instead. But she noticed the difference with her first sip.
“This tastes different.”
“It’s the water,” Garrett said.
“The water?” She waved her glass and sloshed her drink over the side onto her hand.
“They ran out of hard water. Thus its name. This batch was made with soft water.”
“Oh.”
Blair grinned when she bought it, but Neil didn’t look so amused.
As soon as they were done with dinner, Neil pulled out his phone and sighed. “I have to take this. It’s the hospital.” He got up and walked toward the front door, his phone pressed to his ear, although from Garrett’s angle, his phone had a blank screen—no incoming or missed calls or texts. Not that Garrett would have believed it anyway. The timing was too convenient.
But Garrett decided to take advantage of his absence and turned to Blair. “So how long have you and Neil been together?”
She gave him a frosty gaze. “Two years.”
“How did you meet?”
She studied him closely, as though trying to determine if he had an ulterior motive. “At a First Friday.” When he gave her a blank look, she shifted in her seat and explained. “Every first Friday of the month, a bunch of the art galleries and restaurants downtown are open to the public, and they feature local bands and artists. We met at an art gallery. One of the associate attorneys in my office introduced us. He’s an acquaintance of Neil’s.”
“Was it a whirlwind romance?” he couldn’t resist asking.
Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave him a deathly glare.
> “She’s lucky to have him,” Aunt Debra said, thrusting her shoulders back like a linebacker preparing to tackle. Unfortunately, her normal personality seemed to be returning along with her faculties.
Garrett lifted his second beer and winked. “Seems like it’s the other way around to me.”
Blair’s shoulders relaxed, and he saw a grin tug at the corners of her mouth.
“How long do you think you’ll continue working, dear?” his aunt asked her, lifting her glass to her mouth and giving her a sly grin. “You’ll want to start having children soon, at your age. The clock is ticking.”
Blair tensed again, and Garrett could see she was biting her tongue. She forced a smile. “I’m not going to quit my job. I love what I do. I’m not sure I even want to have children.”
Aunt Debra choked on the sip of lemonade she’d just taken, her eyes widening in horror. “What?” She started coughing, and she scooted her chair back, the wood screeching on the tiles. She dropped her glass, and it shattered on the hard floor, splattering lemonade on a woman walking behind her.
The young woman shrieked and jumped backward, landing in the lap of a man who was dining with a group of friends at a nearby table. From their Royals baseball shirts, Garrett figured they were grabbing dinner before the game. The man wrapped an arm around her back to steady her, a surprised grin lighting up his face.
Uncle Gene jumped out of his seat, sending the chair flying to the floor. There was panic in his eyes as he shouted, “Does anyone know the Heil Hitler?”
Blair grabbed Gene’s leftover beer and took a long drag.
The older woman was still hacking, but drool was now spilling out of her mouth and down her chin. From the way she was still breathing and as her face was pink instead of blue, it was clear the woman wasn’t really choking.
Garrett shook his head as he picked up a napkin and handed it to his aunt, but she batted it away. “It’s the Heimlich, Uncle Gene, and she doesn’t need it. She’s choking on her own self-righteousness.”
Neil reentered the restaurant as the manager and waiter rushed over to check on Aunt Debra.
“What in the hell happened?” Neil demanded.
Aunt Debra reached over and picked up the cat jar, shaking it at her son. “Dollar!” she choked out.
The waiter, probably worried about his tip, jerked Debra out of her chair and positioned her back against his chest, but he struggled to wrap his arms all the way around her to form the fist he’d need to give her the Heimlich. Out of apparent desperation, he pressed his palms against her instead and tugged her toward him, his hands cupping each of her breasts.
Garrett tried to keep from laughing as he shot a grin at Blair. “I think the waiter owes the kitty a few dollars for that move.”
Aunt Debra screamed and beat at the poor waiter’s hands. “I could sue you for that!”
The next couple of minutes were pure chaos as the manager tried to placate Aunt Debra—a task no human was capable of achieving. Neil stood in the mix with his parents and the staff, trying to get the full story of what had happened.
Blair and Garrett remained at the table, Blair sneaking glances at him, then looking away.
“I think Aunt Debra may have unintentionally forged a love connection.” He motioned to the woman who had landed in the man’s lap. She had moved to a chair, but they were still chatting.
Blair scoffed. “Like you believe in true love.”
He gave her a half-shrug. “Maybe I do.”
She shook her head. “You never used to.”
“People change.”
She stared at him for several long seconds, as though measuring the man she saw today against the man she used to know. A sardonic grin lifted her mouth. “No. Not really.”
Neil returned to the table but didn’t sit down. “I’ve gotten the situation under control, no thanks to you.” He shot Garrett a glare. “I’ve been called in to the hospital, and I’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
Blair looked up at him with a mixture of irritation and envy.
“We haven’t finished our discussion about babies yet,” his mother said as the manager walked back to the kitchen.
Blair’s jaw tightened, and she shot Neil an angry glare.
“Mom,” Neil said, grabbing the back of his chair and waiting until he had his mother’s attention. “I can tell from the look on Blair’s face that you’ve given her the grandkids speech again. I told you we’ll let you know when we decide to start a family. Blair’s career is on the rise. She doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with a pregnancy or a newborn right now.”
Garrett watched his cousin, stunned. This was the first time all evening he’d defended his fiancée to his mother.
Neil leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on her mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you were spending the night.”
“I traded call.” He shrugged. “I’m juggling my schedule to accommodate my time off for the honeymoon.”
The look she gave him suggested she didn’t trust his answer, so Garrett was surprised when she relented. “Okay.”
Neil hurried out the door, and Aunt Debra squirmed in place. “After all the commotion, Gene and I should get settled in our hotel room.”
Garrett heard a hint of bitterness, and he wondered if she was miffed that she hadn’t been invited to stay at Blair’s or Neil’s.
Relief flickered in Blair’s eyes, but she flashed his aunt a polite smile. “That’s probably a good idea. We have a busy week ahead of us.”
Aunt Debra stood. “Come on, Gene.”
He looked confused. “But the waiter hasn’t brought the bill yet.”
His aunt smiled. “Blair’s a career woman, so I’m sure she’ll take care of it. Won’t you, dear?”
Her jaw tightened. “Of course.”
Aunt Debra and Uncle Gene didn’t waste any time before heading for the door. Blair turned her gaze on him, and he was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that this was exactly what he’d wanted all day. Time alone with her.
“You can go now.” Apparently she had other ideas.
“I’ll stay and help cover the tab. It’s the least I can do after stirring up trouble.”
“Then you must pay for meals right and left,” she said dryly. “Stirring up trouble seems to be something you excel at.”
He laughed, but he was nervous. “Which means I’m used to it, so you might as well let me. We could have another drink before we go.”
She studied him for a moment, and he was struck by her beauty for about the hundredth time today. The bitter thought crossed his mind again: had he not been such a fool five years ago, perhaps she would still be his.
Something flickered in her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind helping me cover the bill?”
Hopeful, he shook his head. “Not a problem.”
A wide grin spread across her face as she stood. “Thanks.” Then she headed for the door.
Dammit. “Blair!” He jumped up and started after her, but the waiter ran over to block his path.
“Sir! You have to pay for the meal.”
Garrett pulled out his wallet. “How much is it?”
The waiter looked frustrated. “I don’t know. I still have to print off the bill.”
“Then do it. Hurry.” Blair was already out the door, and if he didn’t get out of here soon, she’d be gone.
The waiter didn’t seem to grasp his urgency and checked on another table before getting his bill. Since Garrett only had a twenty-dollar bill in his wallet, he was forced to wait.
Several minutes later, he signed the receipt and ran out the door, sure he’d missed her but desperate to try anyway.
The universe was obviously still rooting for him, because he found her sitting in a sedan, her hands covering her face. He walked over to the driver’s door and knocked on the window.
She jumped and lowered her hands. He was relieved to see she wasn’t crying, but
her eyes were alight with a savage fury he recognized all too well. “Go away!” she shouted, but it was muffled by the glass.
“Open the door, Blair.”
“Go away!”
He leaned his backside on the car next to hers and crossed his arms.
She rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield for several seconds before opening the door. “My car won’t start. I need you to figure out what’s wrong with it.”
He laughed, trying to hide his relief that she was actually talking to him. “Have we met? You know I don’t do anything mechanical.”
She pressed a button, then got out and walked to the front of her car and lifted the hood.
He dropped his arms and moved next to her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to figure out why it won’t start.”
“When did you become mechanical?” he teased.
She leaned down to look at something around the battery, then stood up. “I’m not. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to check.” She gave him a withering stare. “I wouldn’t put it past you to do something to it. You seem intent on talking to me. And yes, my assistant told me that you were trying to set up a lunch with me when you were at her desk.”
Garrett was relieved to know that little mix-up had been handled, but she obviously wasn’t any closer to agreeing to have a sit-down talk with him. Still, it was one less strike against him. He walked over and peered down at the engine. “Since we’ve already agreed that I’m physically—if not mentally—incapable of such an act of vandalism, let’s go with general car trouble as the reason your engine won’t start.” He had to admit that it would have been a great idea if, one, he knew how to do such a thing, two, if he’d known she would be here tonight, and three, if he’d known what make and model of car she drove.
She put her hands on her hips. “Did you arrange to be a groomsman in our wedding?”
“God, no. It’s like my worst nightmare come true.”
Her eyebrows rose, and her mouth pursed. “Are you saying my wedding is a nightmare?”
He shook his head. “Come on, Blair. Tell me about the last wedding you were in. Did you really want to be in it? Besides, why would I want to be in your wedding?” He stopped himself from adding “if I wasn’t the groom.”
The Wedding Pact Box Set Page 40