The Corporate Wife

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The Corporate Wife Page 10

by Leigh Michaels


  “It’s my something old, that’s all.”

  “I’ve always envisioned you in embroidered white satin, with a train and a long lacy veil.”

  “The train would just get in the way of the wheelchairs and stretchers.”

  Angela smiled reluctantly. “I expect down deep you think I’m selfish, insisting on this hurry. Don’t you?”

  “Not selfish, I think you’re just being silly. It would make a lot more sense to put off the wedding till you’re back on your feet. Did you say they’re letting you go home tomorrow? You can’t be by yourself, Mother.”

  “I won’t be. You know all that volunteering I’ve done for the last ten years? People are standing in line to help me in return, so you can feel free to concentrate on your husband.”

  Erin didn’t trust herself to answer that.

  An aide came into the room. “Your mother looks better than she feels, Miss Reynolds,” she said, “and we don’t want to tire her out too much. I hate to hurry you along, but perhaps you’d better go on down to the solarium. Sorry about protocol, but this guest will be the last to arrive and the first to leave.”

  Erin leaned over to kiss her mother’s cheek.

  The hallway was – incredibly – deserted, and the walk to the solarium seemed to stretch out forever.

  Exactly like the consequences of this decision, Erin thought. Was she doing the right thing?

  “Fine time to ask yourself that,” she muttered.

  What she was feeling was only last-minute nerves anyway. Every bride had butterflies, no matter what the circumstances of her wedding day.

  She took a deep breath and walked the length of the hallway to the solarium, a small lounge where patients normally could relax in the sunshine. Today, late in the afternoon and in a pouring rain, the room was probably not going to provide the most cheerful atmosphere. But then, the surroundings didn’t matter any more than did white satin and lace, or cascades of flowers, or the gleam of candlelight – none of which were to be part of her wedding day, either.

  There would be just Erin and Slater, a judge, a ring, Angela and her hospital aide as witnesses... and that was all. Erin wouldn’t have bothered with anything more than regular business clothes if she hadn’t known that her mother would be disappointed if she showed up in an ordinary suit. In fact, having the ceremony at her mother’s bedside would have been just fine with her, but Angela had insisted; the solarium wasn’t much, she’d said, but it was the best she could manage. And Erin, knowing how much effort it had taken for Angela to be wheeled down to look at the room in advance, could do nothing but agree.

  Erin turned the corner to walk toward the solarium, and her step slowed as she saw Slater standing in the hallway just outside the little lounge. Her hand raised to her throat, her fingertips caressing the fine gold chain she always wore around her neck.

  “Still having doubts, Erin?”

  “Does it show so clearly?”

  “You’re playing with your necklace again.”

  “Oh. I guess I’ve gotten in the habit of rubbing it between my fingers when I’m stressed. Slater, will you promise me something?”

  “That depends entirely on what you’re asking.” His voice was grave.

  She tried to continue to meet his eyes, and couldn’t. “I know you think now that you’ll never fall in love, but if you do find that magic someday…”

  “This is a solemn and unbreakable contract, Erin.”

  She raised her voice just a little. “I want you to promise me if it happens, you’ll tell me.” He didn’t answer, and after a long moment she opened her eyes very wide, as if she was astonished. “Why should you hesitate to give me a promise that you’re so sure you’ll never have to keep?”

  Slater smiled slowly. “Remind me to object if you decide to go to law school. You’re dangerous enough just as you are.”

  Before Erin could point out that he hadn’t answered the question, she heard the click of rapid footsteps, and Sarah practically skidded around the corner, cradling a foot-square white box in her arms. “There you are, Mr. Livingstone. I just grabbed the box from Tonio and ran, and I still thought I was never going to make it over here on time, with the traffic.” She handed him the box and blinked in obvious surprise as she saw the shimmering spangles on Erin’s cocktail dress.

  Slater opened the box and lifted out a double handful of dainty flowers tied with trailing white ribbons.

  Sarah’s eyes went wide. “That’s a bridal bouquet,” she said.

  Slater handed the bouquet to Erin and the empty box back to Sarah. “Erin, on Sarah’s next employee review, be sure to note that she’s quite observant.”

  Erin was holding up the bouquet, studying each perfect flower. “It’s beautiful, Slater.”

  He smiled down at her. “I can’t turn the solarium into a cathedral, but I saw no reason you shouldn’t have flowers for your wedding.”

  “You’re getting married?” Sarah’s voice was almost a squeak. “Oh, I’m observant, all right – I have observed that the two of you seemed faintly interested in each other.” She hit the heel of her hand against her temple. “Here I thought I was bringing flowers for Erin’s mother because Tonio doesn’t deliver, and I couldn’t understand why it was so critical to get them here at five o’clock on the dot.”

  “Now you know,” Slater said. “Come on in, Sarah. You can be a witness.” He pushed open the solarium door.

  Erin’s first glimpse of the room made her think it was tiny – much smaller than she remembered from inspecting it with her mother a couple of days ago. But her second glance told her that the room was still pleasantly large, it was simply filled to overflowing with people, with flowers, with helium balloons tied with satin ribbons. Despite the gloom outside, the room was brightly lit and cheery and warm. She saw Jessup, in his usual plain black, and Frances Brannagan, smiling and holding a lacy handkerchief as if she expected to need it. All of Angela’s nurses were there, and even the surgeon, wearing scrubs and a smile. On a table in the corner was a punch bowl and a large, pillared cake.

  Erin felt almost dizzy. I can’t turn the solarium into a cathedral, he’d said. But he’d obviously done his best to provide all the other trappings.

  The crowd shifted, and a man she hadn’t spotted before took three steps toward her and stopped, just arms’ length away. “Hello, Erin,” he said softly.

  She stared at him for one endless moment.

  Oh, yes, she told herself bitterly. Her so-thoughtful future husband had managed to provide all the other trappings...

  She turned on Slater, fury warming every cell of her body. Her voice was low and hard-edged. “I don’t suppose you’d like to explain,” she said, “exactly how my father happened to hear I was getting married – and what on earth made him think I’d want him to come?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Slater said calmly, “He heard about it because I called and told him.”

  Erin’s throat tightened. “You just took it upon yourself to invite him – without even asking me what I wanted?”

  Jack Reynolds took two steps forward. “Erin, there’s really no need –”

  She didn’t even look at him. “Stay out of this, Dad.”

  Slater’s voice was low and level. “I thought he had a right to know about his daughter’s wedding.”

  “And what would you know about it?” Erin said. “Did you even consider how my mother’s going to feel about this? Or did you think she hasn’t been through enough in the last week, so with things looking up, it was time for a really nasty surprise?”

  Slater’s gaze remained steadfast on her face, but Erin thought she saw a flicker – of doubt perhaps? of guilt? – in his eyes.

  But her feeling of grim satisfaction at making him realize how badly he’d blundered didn’t last long, for only a moment later the door opened and the aide guided Angela’s wheelchair into the solarium.

  Since the three of them – Slater and Erin and Jack Reynolds – had been prac
tically huddled by the door, there wasn’t even an instant for Erin to try to warn her mother, to soften the blow. Angela’s wheelchair actually grazed Jack Reynolds’ shin as it halted, and he turned to look down at his ex-wife.

  Erin wanted to cover her eyes, but she was too mesmerized to move. She saw shock in her father’s face and watched as it was quickly masked. Reluctantly, fearing the worst, she glanced at her mother.

  Angela, she thought, must feel as if she were seeing a ghost.

  Gently, Jack Reynolds laid his hand on her ex-wife’s shoulder, and Angela reached up to touch his fingertips.

  Erin’s gaze focused on the shiny narrow gold band on her father’s left hand. That was odd. She supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised that he had married again; the divorce was two years past now. What stung was that he hadn’t bothered to tell her.

  You weren’t going to tell him about your wedding, she reminded herself.

  “Jack,” Angela said softly. “Thank you for coming.”

  Her mother’s calmness stunned Erin. Angela couldn’t possibly have carried off a surprise like that without showing so much as a flicker of agitation. Which meant she’d been warned.

  The accusation Erin had leveled against Slater, that he’d acted without even considering Angela’s feelings, had been hasty and presumptuous – and wrong.

  She looked up at him. “I was too surprised to think, Slater. I should have known you wouldn’t do something like that without asking her. But why didn’t you warn me?”

  Slater’s tone was full of irony. “She didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case he couldn’t come.”

  Erin frowned. “You can’t mean it was her idea.” But crazy as it sounded at first, it was the only conclusion that really made sense. “She asked you to call him,” she said slowly. “And you were going to take the blame if I didn’t like it, rather than let me be angry with my mother.”

  He didn’t speak, but she could see the answer in his eyes.

  Beside her, Jack Reynolds cleared his throat. “Erin,” he said very quietly, “This is your special day, and I know you don’t particularly want me here or you’d have asked me yourself. Your mother thought you’d regret it someday if I didn’t come, but it’s up to you. I’ll leave right now if you want me to – but I’d like very much to have the pleasure of attending my daughter’s wedding.”

  The world seemed to hang in the balance. Slater stood very still. Angela seemed to have stopped breathing.

  Erin laid her hand on her father’s arm and said, “If we can find an aisle here somewhere, Dad, perhaps you’ll walk me up it?”

  The crowd parted as neatly as if the maneuver had been rehearsed, and Erin saw the black-robed judge waiting for them, silhouetted against the windows at the far side of the room.

  The wedding ceremony itself was little more than a blur in Erin’s mind, each sentence punctuated by the spattering of raindrops against the glass. She couldn’t stop thinking of how readily she had concluded that it was Slater’s idea for her father to be present, that he’d made the decision carelessly and without thought of how it might affect others. It would have been an action completely unlike him; how had she so easily persuaded herself he could do such a thing?

  She sneaked a glance up at him through her lashes. He looked very serious, almost somber.

  She wouldn’t much blame him if he was feeling some doubt right now about this whole idea. He might well be debating whether he really wanted to marry a woman who could jump to such dramatic and faulty conclusions. It was no surprise that he’d been sarcastic a few minutes ago – the wonder was that he’d stopped at that.

  And if he was having second thoughts, what on earth was the man supposed to do about it? Announce before the whole crowd that he was inclined not to go through with this wedding?

  Slater would never do that. He would never go back on his word in public without so much as a warning. But even if he’d wanted to draw her aside to hash out his doubts, there hadn’t been an opportunity for that quiet moment; by turning to her father, Erin had quashed the possibility – unintentionally, but very efficiently.

  So here they were. She looked up at him once more, trying to read his thoughts. Slater took her hand; his fingers were warm and strong and steady as he slipped her wedding ring into place, and she relaxed a little.

  Then it was finished. “You may kiss your bride,” the judge said, and Erin, quivering inside, obediently raised her face as Slater slipped an arm around her.

  She didn’t expect that this kiss would be anything like that first sudden, accidental, exploratory caress had been; how could it be, with an audience? She was almost right, too, for there were many differences. This kiss was slow, deliberate, and knowledgeable, not focused entirely on her mouth but drawing her whole body into the caress as he pulled her closer.

  Instead of instant flame crackling over her skin like summer lightning, this kiss created heat which rumbled through her bones like a volcano. The only things that hadn’t changed, she found herself thinking, were the way he left her dizzy and reeling, and the fact that he’d managed to knock her so completely off balance without any obvious effort at all.

  The man wasn’t only efficient and way beyond competent, Erin told herself, he was versatile as well.

  She wondered where he’d learned it all.

  Slater kept an arm around her, turning her to face their guests. For a long moment everything looked static, as if she was staring at a still photograph, and then the crowd mobbed them.

  It seemed much later when the aide in charge of Angela’s wheelchair tapped Erin on the shoulder. “It’s past time for your mother to be back in bed,” she said, “but she doesn’t want to go.”

  Erin set down her punch cup, excused herself from the nurse she was talking to, and hurried across the room to Angela’s side. She could see the strain of fatigue in her mother’s face. “You’ve overdone it,” she ordered, “so stop giving everybody a hard time and go rest.”

  Angela forced a smile. “It’s been worth every instant,” she said. “Even if I ache till next Tuesday for staying up this long. You’ll stop by my room before you leave?”

  It was Slater who answered. “Of course.”

  Angela looked past them both. “I’m glad you came, Jack,” she said and held out her hand. “I know how busy you are these days. Have a safe trip home.”

  Jack Reynolds clasped her hand for a moment and stepped back to let the wheelchair pass. Almost as soon as it was out of sight, he turned to Erin. “I’ll be going, too, Erin. I’ve just got time to get to the airport for my flight back to San Diego.”

  Erin told herself it was completely irrational to be disappointed that he was leaving when she hadn’t even considered inviting him to come in the first place. “You’re going back so soon?”

  His smile was slightly twisted. “It was a rather sudden trip,” he pointed out.

  “Of course. And I’m sure you have other obligations.” At least some of them, she thought, were represented by that shiny gold ring he was wearing. She stood on her toes to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’m glad you came, Daddy. Really.”

  “I’m glad I did, too, Shamrock.” His voice cracked. “If... Well, Slater’s got my number – if you ever want it.” He thrust a hand out to Slater and was gone before Erin could answer.

  “Shamrock?” Slater said under his breath.

  She didn’t look at him. “He used to say I was his lucky charm, like a four-leaf clover. So…” She had to stop to clear her throat, and then with determination she smiled and returned to her guests.

  The party lasted for another hour and broke up only as the hospital itself began to settle down for the evening. There were still a few people relaxing in corners, drinking punch and talking, when Slater asked if Erin was ready to leave.

  Panic sizzled through her. But it wasn’t leaving the party that made her hesitate; it was all the other questions he was asking. Was she ready to go with him? Ready to make his home her o
wn? Ready to be his wife?

  “What about the wreckage?” she asked, looking around the solarium. “We can’t leave it this way.”

  “It’s taken care of. The balloons go to the pediatrics wing, the flowers to the long-term nursing unit.”

  “That’s sweet.” She straightened a ribbon on her bouquet. “You said we’d stop to see Mother.”

  “I’m betting she’ll be asleep. If so, we’ll leave a note instead of waking her.”

  Angela was not asleep. Her door was standing half-open, and though Erin couldn’t see her visitor she could hear the murmur of voices. Her eyes widened. “My father’s in there!”

  “So much for his flight back to San Diego,” Slater said.

  “You don’t sound surprised.”

  He shrugged. “Seems to me they’d have plenty to talk about.”

  “That would make a nice change,” Erin muttered.

  “I gather you don’t want to interrupt?”

  She shook her head. “It’d be a bit awkward, I think.” She wrote a note for her mother instead and left it at the nurses’ station.

  At the hospital door she hesitated, feeling suddenly shivery. The rain had stopped, but night had settled in earlier than normal because of the heavy clouds, and the damp air was chilly against Erin’s face after the hours she’d spent in the crowded and over-warm solarium. “My rain coat is in Mother’s room.”

  “And you’d rather not go back after it.” Slater took off his trench coat and draped it around her shoulders. The soft, light wool was warm from his body and scented with his aftershave, and though the coat was far too large to fit her it settled down around her like a blanket. Or a hug, she thought. She couldn’t quite decide if it was comforting or possessive.

  Slater’s apartment was dim and quiet. Erin was surprised to see only a few small lights, just enough to indicate the outlines of the rooms. She slipped out of his trench coat, and the spangles on her dress caught and magnified the faint light.

  “I like that dress,” Slater said. He took the coat to hang it up. “I’ve seen you wear it before, haven’t I? Or is that one of those questions husbands shouldn’t ask?”

 

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