Stand-In Groom bob-1
Page 29
Anne couldn’t look at him. To her surprise, rather than try to convince her she needed to go to George on bended knee and beg forgiveness, Forbes pressed a cream envelope into her hand, kissed her forehead, and departed, taking his sisters with him.
Anne nearly wept when she saw her name in George’s compact script on the envelope. Oh, she missed him. The feel of his arms around her when she was tired, his reassuring talks, the strength of his hand around hers…
Why, God? Why does this keep happening to me?
“I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”
“I love him. But I’m afraid of being hurt again.”
“For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but of power and love and discipline.”
“Fill me with that power and love and discipline,” she cried out to God. “Show me how to love and be loved without fear.”
She opened the letter:
My dearest Anne,
I do not know how to begin to apologize to you for any hurt I’ve brought you. You are the most wonderful blessing God has ever brought into my life. I was an idiot to joke with Henry about my feelings for you. You are so deep in my heart that when you’re not near I feel like I can’t breathe properly.
I leave Sunday for France. Forbes has information on how to contact me. As soon as I arrive, I will contact him…and write you.
I love you so much, I ache when we’re apart. Somehow, I will manage to survive the coming separation with only the hope you will be waiting for me when I return.
Please forgive me for hurting you.
I love you, and I miss you already.
Sunday. Today. He was leaving today. She could still stop him. He couldn’t go. She loved him. She had to tell him. She wanted to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him.
Forbes. He knew where George was going. Why had she avoided Forbes all week? If she hadn’t given in to embarrassment and shame, she and George could already be back together.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she could find and combed her hair back into a ponytail as she stepped into an old pair of canvas sneakers.
She ran upstairs and pounded on Jenn’s door. No answer. Down two flights and pounded on Meredith’s door. Same result.
She ran back to her apartment and grabbed her purse, keys, and phone, dialing Forbes’s number as she flew down the stairs.
“Anne?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“What do you mean who? George! Where is he? He said you know where he’s going. I have to find him. I have to tell him not to go.”
She skidded to a stop on the back porch.
Forbes climbed out of his black Jaguar and snapped his phone closed.
She jumped down the steps and grabbed his arms. “Where is he?”
Jenn stuck her head out the back window. “He’s at the airport, Anne.”
Forbes shook his head. “His flight for Memphis left fifteen minutes ago.”
“You have his itinerary?” She snatched the page out of his hand before he had it fully out of his pocket. She looked at her watch. “His flight to Atlanta leaves in three hours. Memphis is a six-hour drive.”
Forbes grabbed her arms. “Anne, there is a way.”
Looking into his steel blue eyes, she saw the answer and started shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“How much do you love him?” His gaze bored into hers.
Her heart raced; her stomach churned. With fear’s cold fingers choking her, she nodded. “I have to go.”
“I’ll call Rafe. He can have the jet ready by the time we get you there.”
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Meredith slid out through the front passenger window and sat on the frame like the car was the General Lee from The Dukes of Hazzard.
“I—no—I don’t know.”
Forbes squeezed her arms and gently pushed her toward the porch steps. “I’ll call Rafe while you put on a clean shirt and real shoes.”
In less than five minutes, Anne was ready to face a fear even bigger than falling in love.
The last remaining Guidry company jet gleamed in the sun like a sparkling coffin. She was going to plummet to her death. She touched the scar on the side of her neck, the reminder of the last time she’d been on a plane.
George. She had to get to George. If he left, she might never see him again. Swallowing hard, she put her foot on the first step. Then the second. Too soon, she was hunched over, walking into the living room–like seating area.
Forbes sat on the sofa beside her and tightened her seat belt. “Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head. “Just tell Rafe to get this flying death trap off the ground before I change my mind.”
He kissed her forehead, said a prayer for her safety, and departed.
Rafe came back and prayed with her, too, then returned to the cockpit.
She didn’t stop sobbing until the plane had been in the air nearly twenty minutes. With all the window blinds closed, she could pretend she was riding in the back of the RV Errol and Maggie had rented that time they took a family trip out to the Grand Canyon. She’d just started to relax when Rafe’s voice came over the intercom to say they were about to land in Memphis.
She pulled her makeup compact out of her purse. There was nothing for it. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose, too.
Throughout the landing, she gripped the edge of the seat and prayed that if God wanted her to come home, He’d let her die upon impact. Then the wheels touched the tarmac, and the small jet coasted into the private plane section of the Memphis airport.
She nearly cried again when she saw the length of the line at the ticket counter. She kept checking her watch. Thirty minutes. Twenty. Fifteen.
Finally, with ten minutes to spare, she got to the front of the line. “I need you to page a passenger who’s on this flight.” She handed the woman George’s itinerary.
The woman looked down at her computer screen and handed the paper back to Anne. “I’m sorry, ma’am, that flight has already boarded and pushed away from the gate. There’s no way to page him.”
No. So close. She’d survived the flight here. She couldn’t lose him now.
“What’s the next available flight to Atlanta?” Rafe asked, grasping Anne by the arm when she wavered, nausea nearly overwhelming her at the thought of boarding another plane.
“We have one that leaves in about thirty minutes. But it’ll take that long to get through security, and if you have any luggage—”
“No luggage.” He slapped his corporate credit card down on the counter. “Get her on that flight. First class.”
Boarding pass in hand, Anne ran behind Rafe through the airport to the security gate. Only a few people milled about in front of her.
“Take your shoes off and put them in the bucket. Put everything in the bucket—cell phone, too.”
She did as told, numb with fear. This time, the fear wasn’t of flying. She was afraid she’d lost her only chance at happiness. If she couldn’t find him in the Atlanta airport…
On the other side of the security gate, she waved at Rafe, slipped her shoes back on, then jogged down the corridor to the appropriate gate. At the desk, the airline employee told her to go ahead and board, as she was one of the last to arrive. She handed the boarding pass to the ticket taker and walked down the long, hollow-sounding hallway. She paused at the gaping door at the end, looking like a mouth ready to devour her, like the great fish in the book of Jonah.
* * *
She sank into the plush seat and secured her seat belt.
God, please let me find him. I have to ask him to forgive me, to come home with me.
What was taking so long for the plane to take off?
They shut the door, and the plane rolled away from the building. Then they sat.
Panic rose in her throat with e
ach minute that passed. He had a two-hour layover in Atlanta. But she was already an hour behind him. And she’d heard the Atlanta airport was huge.
Twenty minutes later, the captain came over the intercom, apologized for the delay, and told his staff to prepare for takeoff.
Please let him still be there. Please let me find him.
An hour and ten minutes later, she rushed up the Jetway into the bustling metropolis known as an airport. She stopped at the check-in desk and thrust George’s itinerary at the airline worker.
“Can you tell me where this flight takes off from?”
“That’s an international flight.” The woman clicked a couple of color-coded keys at her computer. “That flight leaves from E-11.”
“Where am I now?”
“A-20. If you’re trying to catch that flight, you’ll never make it. Shows here they’re already boarding.”
“Can I have a passenger from that flight paged to come back here?”
“We can try. But if he’s already boarded, they’re not going to let him off the plane, or he can’t get back on.”
“Okay. Page him, please.”
The woman dialed the other gate to have George paged. Anne paced. Other people came to the gate to check in for a flight to Nashville.
Where was he? Which direction would he be coming from?
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty. Past time for his flight to leave. She returned to the counter. “Did they page him?”
“That flight’s already left, ma’am. The gate agent said no one got off the plane.”
Anne fought tears. He hadn’t gotten off the plane. “Okay. Thanks. How can I purchase a ticket to go home?”
After going through an embarrassing search as she came back through security, Anne found her departure gate and sat facing the windows, watching the planes come and go. He hadn’t gotten off the plane.
Music wafted from a nearby karaoke bar. She grinned ruefully. Dean Martin. Her favorite.
Wait a minute! The man singing “Return to Me” sounded just like Dean—
She shot out of her seat and whirled, looking for the source of the music. An Asian man stood at the microphone crooning the sad ballad.
She felt someone stop behind her. Warm breath tickled her ear as someone whispered the heart-touching lyrics of the song, entreating the man’s beloved to return, to forgive, to say she belongs to him….
Closing her eyes, she turned, not wanting to see if it wasn’t really him.
Warm, strong fingers cupped her chin. She opened her eyes, and tears escaped down her cheeks. George’s warm chocolate gaze melted her lingering fear.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You can’t know how sorry.”
She touched his face, just to make sure he really stood there in front of her. Real tears dampened his real face. A sob caught in her throat as he pulled her into his arms. “They said you didn’t get off the plane.”
“What?”
“When I had them page you earlier. They said no one got off the plane. I thought you were on your way to Paris because you didn’t want to see me.”
His chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Did you ask them to see if I checked in for that flight?”
“No.” She gulped for air. “How did you find me, then?”
“I got here and realized I couldn’t leave. I went downstairs and bought the first available ticket back to Bonneterre—this flight.” He held her at arm’s length. “How did you get here?”
“Rafe took me to Memphis on the company plane. I hoped to catch you there, but your flight had already left.”
“You got on a Learjet and a commercial airliner just to come after me?” Emotion thickened his voice.
She nodded, drinking in the sight of him. She never wanted to be away from him ever again, ever, ever.
“You got on a plane—no, on two planes to come after me?”
Laughter bubbled up through her tears. “Yeah. Two planes.” She held up two fingers.
He kissed her, his tenderness fulfilling her every dream. “Two planes.”
“I had to see you.” She touched his hair. He was grayer now than he’d been when she first met him. “I have a question I wanted to ask you.”
He smiled and pulled her out of the path of onlookers. She hadn’t meant to make a spectacle. She took his proffered handkerchief and dried her tears.
“What question did you want to ask me?”
My, my, but he was smug. “Well, I feel like we have a lot in common, and we obviously work well together.” She grinned. “What I wanted to ask is: Would you consider joining me as an equal partner in Happy Endings, Inc.?”
Smugness deflated into speechless disappointment.
Oh, she couldn’t resist. “I know you’ll have to figure things out legally with your work visa and all.”
He cleared his throat. “I—well, that is to say…”
She pressed one finger to his lips. “Of course, I’ve decided I cannot take on any business partner but my husband. So if you still want to work with me, I guess you’ll just have to marry me.”
He laughed and pulled her close, caressing the back of her head. “I think that’s the best business proposition I’ve ever heard.”
The touch of his lips on hers sent blue sparks through her body. “I love you,” she whispered. “Always, always, always.”
He traced the curve of her jaw with his forefinger, kissed the bridge of her nose, and tucked her back into his arms. “Now that’s what I call a happy ending.”
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