The Wedding Pact Box Set

by Denise Grover Swank

  Her head jutted back, and she looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t go out on a date with you. I’m engaged.”

  “Not anymore.” He pointed to her now bare hand.

  She reached absently for her ring finger, rubbing at the empty spot.

  “That ring was never right for you anyway. A traditional, heirloom piece? That seems more like your friend Megan’s style.”

  A slight grin tipped the corners of her lips. “Good call. Josh gave her his grandmother’s ring. She loves it.”

  “You’re more contemporary. Probably a square diamond solitaire, large but not too large.”

  She smirked. “For a guy, you know more than you should about engagement rings.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a sexist statement.” But it was true. He hadn’t known jack crap about engagement rings up until last night. He’d spent one of his many sleepless hours searching for the ring that would best suit her if he ever got the opportunity to propose. “Am I right? Would that be more your style?”

  She didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself.

  “So go on a date with me. How about lunch?”

  Her grin faded. “I’m having lunch with Neil.”

  “I see.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Do you?”

  He put his hand on the table and leaned forward. “No, Blair. I honestly don’t. You don’t love him. And I know you think he’s safe, but I’m not sure why.”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “Okay, fair enough, but answer me this.” He kept his tone soft and comforting to cushion the barbs he was about to sink. “When did you start running away? That’s not like you at all.”

  She slammed her hands on the table. “What the hell are you talking about? When did I ever run away? You’re the one who left me!”

  “You’re pretending that marrying a man you don’t love is the logical decision. If that’s not running away, I don’t know what is.”

  “How in God’s name is that running away?”

  “Because you’re running away from love.”

  “What the hell do you know about love, Garrett Lowry? You took what we had and destroyed it.”

  “I know.” His voice broke. How many times would she have to say it to purge it from her system? What if the number was infinite? “I’ll regret it until the day I die, but I loved you, Blair. I still do.” He reached over the table and grabbed her hand. “I meant every word I said last night. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  She looked away, but she didn’t pull her hand away. It was something. “So what exactly are you proposing here?” She glanced back at him. “A date?”

  He tried to hold back his excitement. “Yeah. A date.”

  “Where would we go?”

  He took a shallow breath. “Pizza. Some place where we could get a beer and talk. Then we’d go to a piano bar, like we always loved doing, and make fun of all the cheesy love songs.”

  Sadness filled her eyes, and she slid her hand out from under his. “We’ve both grown up since law school.”

  “Sure, but not completely. Are you telling me that doesn’t sound like something you’d want to do?”

  She didn’t answer, which meant she was considering it. He wondered what her dates with prissy Neil were like, but he didn’t dare ask, and part of him didn’t want to know.

  “Why now, Garrett? After all these years, why now?”

  He sighed. “I told you, Blazer. I was too scared to approach you after all this time. But then when I saw you in Phoenix . . . and then here. Call it whatever you like—fate, kismet, or coincidence—but to me it was the universe telling me to man up and go after you.”

  Her gaze pierced his. “And where does Neil fit into this?”

  “Hopefully, Neil doesn’t fit anywhere into this.”

  “How can you say that?”

  Understanding hit him, and he groaned. “There is no contest, Blair. You’re not some inanimate object to be fought over. I only want you to be happy, but I hope to God it’s with me.”

  Garrett glanced up in time to see Brian Norfolk walk through the door.

  Blair sat upright in her seat, but her eyes were still locked onto Garrett’s—like she was performing some kind of human lie detector test—as she waited for the jerk to sit next to him.

  “Mr. Norfolk,” she said. “How wonderful of you to finally join us.”

  “Hey, I’m only five minutes late.” He plopped down in the chair next to Garrett’s.

  Blair gave him a condescending glare as the court reporter entered the room behind him and took her seat. “Mr. Norfolk, I’m sure your attorney has told you this, but I feel compelled to reiterate that when we win—which we will—you will end up paying us by the hour. If you waste any of my time, you will end up paying for it handsomely.” She flashed him a smile. “So thank you.”

  He muttered a curse word under his breath, and Blair shot him an evil smile before beginning her questions. Garrett had to hand it to her. Now that she’d made him admit to his hidden money, she knew exactly what follow-up questions to ask to find everything else he’d squirreled away. Frankly, Garrett was surprised there was that much money left. He’d seen Norfolk’s expenses.

  The entire matter took less than three hours, and Norfolk slunk out as quickly as he could, leaving Garrett in the conference room with the court reporter and Blair. He could see she was stalling, shuffling her papers in her folder. It was another hopeful sign that she was hanging back to talk to him.

  He stood to leave, and she did as well, keeping her gaze on the door. Once they were both in the hall, she glanced up at him.

  “Did you go see Neil at the hospital yesterday?”

  “Neil told you?”

  Her eyes flew open in surprise. “So it’s true?”

  Why would Neil confess such a thing? Garrett suspected it couldn’t be good, but he wouldn’t lie to her. “Yes, it’s true.”

  Her eyes turned icy again. “Then you’re wasting your time and mine, Garrett. Go back to California where you belong.” She turned her back to him and started down the hall.

  “Blair!”

  He followed her, and she turned back to him, fear and anger in her eyes. She reminded him of a trapped wild animal. “Stay away from me.”

  What in the hell had just happened?

  Chapter Twenty

  “Blair, please,” Megan pleaded over the phone. “Rethink this decision.”

  Blair leaned her head against the back of her office chair. Good God. How many people had pleaded with her over the last twenty-four hours? It was exhausting. “I’ve made up my mind. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  “Even after what happened last night?”

  “Neil and I discussed it over lunch. I accepted his explanation. There’s nothing to rethink.”

  “And what about Garrett?”

  “What about Garrett? He’s from my past. We had our chance. It’s gone. Neil is my future.” She’d been telling herself that all afternoon. She was starting to believe it. At least a little.

  “Oh, Blair.”

  “We’ve decided to call off the party tonight, especially after everything that happened last night.”

  “You mean so no one can talk you out of the wedding?” Megan snorted. “Was this his idea?”

  “It was a mutual decision.” But Neil had been the one to suggest it.

  “So you don’t have plans tonight?”

  “Neil and I are going out to dinner.”

  “You’ll be spending every day with Neil after Saturday, but I’m going back to Seattle. Come out with Libby and me tonight. We’ll make it a bachelorette party.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to marry Neil,” Blair said in a haughty tone.

  “Blair, you’re a grown woman. We’ve stated our opinion, but it’s ultimately your decision. Now let’s have a girls’ night out.” She paused. “If Neil will let you, that is.”

  Her back stiffened. �
�Neil doesn’t own me, Megan. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

  “Then it’s a plan?”

  Neil would likely be upset. At lunch, he had taken the blame for their broken relationship and had suggested they spend more time together to rekindle the connection they’d shared in the beginning, although Blair could admit to herself that it had never been even close to what she’d shared with Garrett. He gave her back the ring and said he wanted to start tonight with a special dinner. But Megan was right. They had the rest of their lives to spend together. She had no idea when she would see Megan again. Besides, she couldn’t think of the last time the three of them had all just hung out and talked. “Yes, but I have some work to do before I take off.”

  “Good.” Megan sounded smug. “Then meet us for dinner. You pick when and where. We can meet close to your office to make it easier for you.”

  “Okay. Seven o’clock at O’Malley’s.”

  “At least try to sound excited about it.”

  “I’m excited.” And she was. She just needed to tell Neil first. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “A wedding will do that to you. See you at seven.”

  Blair was caught by surprise when Neil’s phone didn’t go to voice mail.

  “Blair? Miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone.

  His response was so unlike him, she was shocked into silence. “Uh . . .”

  “I can’t wait until our dinner tonight. I’ve come up with the perfect restaurant. I was just about to text you the location.”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling . . .” Why was she so nervous? She’d never had trouble telling him what she wanted before. “I need to cancel our plans tonight.”

  He paused. “Blair. I thought we agreed to focus more on us. Starting tonight.”

  “I know, but Megan and Libby want me to go out with them. I can’t even think of the last time all three of us went out to dinner.”

  “Darling, they want to convince you to break off the wedding.” He sounded worried.

  Her temper flared. “You think I’m incapable of making up my own mind?”

  “No. Of course not.” He sounded taken aback. “But—”

  “Then there’s no discussion. I’m going out with my friends.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  Now she was really suspicious. “Don’t lay it on too thick, Neil.”

  “Due to my own stupidity, I almost lost you last night. It’s made me realize that I’ve taken you for granted.” His voice lowered. “I love you, Blair. I know I rarely say it, maybe because you never do, but I do love you.”

  He was right. She rarely said it, but she hated lying. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Melissa came in about an hour later, set a file on Blair’s desk, and then spun around to leave. She wasn’t acting like herself, and Blair was worried. It occurred to her that she’d piled a lot of her own personal tasks onto her assistant, especially since she’d asked her to take care of canceling tonight’s party.

  “Did you have any problems with the cancellation?”

  Melissa turned to face her, crossing her arms. “None at all.”

  “Melissa, is everything okay?”

  Her eyes were guarded. “And why wouldn’t it be?”

  Blair knew a deflection when she saw one. She stood and walked around her desk. “I know I’ve asked you to do a lot of personal errands for me lately.”

  Melissa sucked in a breath and stared her down. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job.”

  “No, it’s not. Not really.” She moved closer. “I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate everything you do.”

  Her assistant looked down and then back up, still on guard. “I know you do, Blair. Thank you.” And with that, she left the room.

  Blair considered going after her, but she had enough on her hands. She’d deal with whatever was bothering Melissa later.

  Megan and Libby were waiting for her in the restaurant when she arrived several minutes after seven. She prepared herself to be berated for being late, but they just smiled and held up their drinks.

  “We started without you,” Libby said.

  Blair cracked a smile. “So it would seem.”

  “We’re still waiting for our table,” Megan added. “Let’s get you something.”

  “Just water. I have a busy day tomorrow and a meeting with a potential new client in the morning.”

  They both knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the office on Friday, but neither woman commented on it.

  Libby took a sip of her wine. “I guess you don’t have to worry about your job now, huh?”

  She thought about defending herself, but she doubted Libby meant it as a jab. She was just being sensitive. That thought almost made her snort out loud—when had Blair Myers Hansen become sensitive?

  The hostess approached them a few minutes later and led them to their seats. They spent the next hour and a half talking about their jobs, their mutual friends, Megan and Josh’s life in Seattle, and a new photography project of Libby’s. The conversation steered clear of all topics even peripherally related to Neil, Garrett, and the wedding. Which left Blair with very little to discuss.

  “I’ve heard this place has amazing cheesecake,” Libby said, taking a sip of her wine. “Want a slice?”

  Blair laughed. “No way. I have to fit into my dress on Saturday.”

  “One piece of cheesecake won’t hurt,” Megan teased.

  Blair stuck to her guns. “Nope. I have enough things to worry about without adding the fear of being unable to zip up my dress.”

  “Well, in that case,” Libby said, flagging down the waitress. “Let’s pay the bill and head over to the bar down the street and get a drink.”

  Blair shook her head. “I can’t. It’s a work night.”

  “Come on, Blair.” Megan tilted her head and gave her a pouty face. “It’s too early to call it a night. Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again.”

  She only had one meeting scheduled, so she could afford a later start than usual. Especially since it was officially her day off. “Okay.”

  They left the bar and were heading down the street when a woman emerged from a doorstep and grabbed Blair’s arm.

  She stared up at Blair with intense brown eyes. “Your fortune for five dollars.”

  Blair tried to pull free, but the woman’s grip was like a vise. Her first thought was that the panhandlers in this part of town had gotten significantly more aggressive, but the woman didn’t look homeless. In fact, she was clean and fairly well dressed in a long flowing skirt and shirt. Tight black ringlets framed her face.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll pay,” Libby said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out a bill. “Come on. You have to admit you of all people need your fortune read.”

  Blair’s body tensed. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.”

  “Humor us.” Libby handed the money to the woman. “I’m paying for it. Consider it my bridesmaid’s gift.

  “Fine.” She held out her hand to the woman, palm up. “Read it.”

  The woman took it and shook her head. “I don’t read palms. I read souls.”

  Blair didn’t hide her amusement. “By all means. Read my soul.” Her grin widened. “If you can find it.”

  The woman’s eyes held Blair’s for several uncomfortable seconds before she spoke. “You are at a crossroads both professionally and in love.”

  Blair’s smile fell.

  “You’ve been cursed.”

  Blair tried to jerk her hand free, but the woman’s fingers dug into her flesh. “Now this is just bullshit,” Blair said.

  “It’s up to you to break the curse. Everything depends on making the right choice,” the woman said, releasing her hold. “You don’t have much time.” Then she smiled. “For twenty-nine dollars, I can give you a tarot reading. If you’ll just come into my office . . .” She motioned to the door behind her, and Blair realized
they were standing in the awning of her psychic shop.

  Blair turned to give Libby a scathing glare. “You set this up.”

  Libby lifted her hands in defense. “No. I swear.”

  Megan flashed the psychic a smile. “Thank you, but we’re going to pass.” She grabbed Blair’s arm and tugged her away.

  “That was bullshit, Libby.” Blair felt her cheeks grow hot, which only made her angrier.

  “How could I set this up, Blair?” her friend asked. “You picked the restaurant. I never come down to Brookside. I didn’t even know this place was here.”

  “Come on,” Megan said. “Let it go.”

  Blair dug her heels into the sidewalk. “I think I should just go home.” Though she’d die before admitting it out loud, the fortune teller had scared her. Blair reminded herself that the psychic had thrown out general terms in a fishing expedition, looking for a topic to narrow in on based on her reaction. But while her head knew this, the unreasonable part of her considered going back for some answers.

  She had finally lost her mind. What if she was making the wrong choice? “Fine.”

  “Great!” Megan exclaimed, ignoring her short response.

  The bar was a short walk away, and as soon as Blair got through the door, she ordered a whiskey.

  “Don’t you want to find a table first?” Megan asked.

  “No.”

  Libby ordered a glass of wine and Megan a beer, and once they had their drinks, they found an empty table in the back of the bar.

  They’d barely gotten settled when Libby looked at Blair’s left hand and asked, “So you’re wearing the same ring?”

  The panic rose out of nowhere, and she wasn’t even sure why. “Yeah,” she forced out. “It’s practical.” She took a sip, trying to hide her shaking hand.

  “Yes,” Libby murmured. “It is practical.”

  Blair took another sip. “Just say it, Libby. Say what you’ve been dying to say all night.”

  She shook her head. “Blair, we really do just want you to be happy. You don’t look happy.”

  “How could I be happy when you two won’t accept my choices?”