Her mind repeated what Wyatt said. No one. Right.
Their one summer together had made her want to quit college and follow him anywhere. She'd have joined the Marines to be with him, until she went to see him and another woman named Jessica claimed to be his girlfriend. A year later, Wyatt and Jessica married and had a baby. Sandy lost faith in love, though she often heard whispers from Penny that Wyatt wasn't happy. Then she'd heard his wife died in a car crash, leaving him a single father.
She straightened her necklace and fluffed her blond hair. The past shouldn't still haunt her. She was a big girl now, and learned to move on. She'd dated in the years since Wyatt, and thought about her childhood best friend and one-time boyfriend less, but she could never fully get Wyatt out of her head.
Wyatt led his daughter toward the ramp. With her head low, Sandy clutched her bag and followed. Someone took Wyatt and his daughter's picture with a photo backdrop of the ship. Unlike Sandy's father, at least Wyatt clearly loved and cared for his own, but then, she always liked that protective part of his spirit. Once they were done, she snuck through without getting her picture taken. As she turned the corner, she almost slammed into Wyatt's shoulder. She kept her head down and hoped he didn't see her. However, her phone rang. With one glance, she read it was Penny, who immediately said, "Sandy, where are you?"
It must be nice to marry a man and be in love. Sandy gave up hope for those things for herself, though she kept a smile on a face. Helping with weddings was the next best thing, and maybe what she might as a career do if she sold her bridal shop, if she didn't design for Victoria in the House of Morgan. She covered her head as Wyatt glanced at her, and right into her eyes. She trembled, though she wished she was stronger, as she wished to disappear into a hole in the ground.
"Almost on board." She took off her sunglasses. "Why?"
"My mother is driving me crazy."
Yes. She understood part of her job as the maid of honor and wedding planner was to keep Penny away from Geneva, her mother. Geneva had tried to trick Penny into getting pregnant to force the wedding to happen.
"Ten minutes. There is a line to get on the ship." Wyatt's daughter took her hand. Sandy's heart pumped, and she nearly dropped her cell phone as she looked into his brown eyes again. "Wyatt."
"Sandra." He nodded but didn't stop his daughter. They all walked in step for a second as the line moved slowly.
On the phone, Penny said, "Tell my half-brother I'll need him."
She lowered her phone. "Penny's mom is driving her crazy and she wants your help."
"We'll be there as soon as we can."
His words were clear and sure. If Sandy's father or brother spoke about her like that, perhaps she'd have turned out different and stronger.
She smiled as she said, "Did you hear him?"
"Yes," Penny said. "I'm going to hide in the spa. Find me."
"Of course."
Sandy hung up and then took another few steps with Wyatt in line. The silence between them grew more apparent as families and couples whispered when they saw the ship. As they turned the next corner, he said, "You and Penny still talk like high school."
Startled, she said nothing as they turned the corner. Wyatt added, "It seems like it was practically yesterday, seeing you both drinking coffee and jotting down math for mathletes while in your cheerleader gear. And now she's marrying Jay."
In high school, she'd been absolutely in love with him, and he had known it. Before she could say anything, his daughter swung their hands in the air as she said, "Dad, did you know this lady when you were in school?"
"Yes." Wyatt dropped down to one knee. "Charlotte, this is Sandra. Sandra is your aunt Penny's best friend. We were all in the math league together. I didn't think she'd want me to speak to her, though."
"I'd like for us to talk again. It would be nice." Sandy surveyed the girl. No one in Wyatt's family had those wild curls his daughter had. Sandy nodded. "Nice to meet you."
"You're very pretty." Charlotte curtsied.
"Who's this?"
"This is my dog, Candy Cane."
"She's her emotional support animal," Wyatt added.
Charlotte hugged the terrier with a big, toothy grin. Clearly she had her father's charm. Wyatt stood, and they walked a few feet. Sandy's heart melted as she winked. "So are you."
Charlotte squeezed her hand. "Do you have a husband?"
Jitters rushed through her as she fumbled to put her sunglasses into her bag. Wyatt should know this question sent her into anxiety. "No. Why?"
Good. Her words were clear. At least she hadn't dropped her pocketbook.
Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "A boyfriend?"
Sandy broke up with her last boyfriend a year ago. It hadn't been that long, but Sandy couldn't quite picture him or remember his name with Wyatt standing so close. Caleb? Colin? No. Charles. She fidgeted with her bag. "Not at the moment. I've been dealing with my business. I haven't had the time."
"Dad, I think she's perfect." Charlotte tugged their hands closer together as she held on to both of them.
Wyatt's face darkened as he led them up the ramp. "No, Charlotte."
Sandy glanced at the ship they were about to enter, once the people in front passed security. Then she stared at Wyatt as they stepped forward. Something was going on. She curled her free hand to her side as she asked, "No what?"
"My dad needs a wife."
Sandy clutched her pendant. "What?"
"Grandpa said it would keep me safe."
Those words clearly weren't Charlotte's. She stared at Wyatt, whose cheeks were red. "Charlotte"—he massaged his chin—"let's not tell Sandra everything."
Charlotte shook her head and said, "My dad is staring at you, a lot. You should marry him!"
Wyatt's cheeks turned red. "Stop. We're here for your aunt's wedding to Sandra's cousin."
Sandy's heart was still racing. If Wyatt looked at her in any special way, then maybe he regretted how they broke up years ago. The whisper in her heart had to be wrong, that there might ever be anything else. He'd cheated on her, and Charlotte was the evidence.
Charlotte had no idea of Sandy's dark thoughts as she said, "Jay's your cousin? I don't have any cousins."
"Family is always good." Charlotte let her hand go. Their handholding must be done. Wyatt led Charlotte to slide her identity card through the machine and helped her pass security. Sandy followed behind them. Once all three of them were through, Wyatt said, "Charlotte, we're on board. Say goodbye to Sandra so we can get to our room."
"Bye," Charlotte said with a huge smile, leading her dog. "I'd like you for a new mom."
Sandy stared after the girl and her father. Other passengers brushed past her, but she didn't move. She should never speak to Wyatt, but if he asked her to marry her, then it might be a chance to prove to herself and everyone else that she could lead a normal life.
The Marshall Family Saga
Favorite Coffee, Favorite Crush
Favorite Coffee, Favorite Mistake
Favorite Coffee, Favorite Sin
Favorite Coffee, Favorite Scandal
And don’t forget Returning for Valentine’s (FREE if you go to my website)
Favorite Scandal Preview
Eva Bishop spooned peanut butter out of the container and ate it whole. So much for her pretend life as an actress where she made out she was glamorous. These days, her apartment had a broken air conditioner and her refrigerator was empty.
She rubbed her belly. She had to eat—her baby had to be strong. Somehow, she'd find a way for this baby girl to have more than she’d ever got.
A knock on her door made it shake. She put her spoon in the jar and hid it in the refrigerator. It was probably the landlord wondering where her rent was. Right now, she had no idea either. She had no idea about a lot of things.
"Eva, let me in."
Brandon Campbell's voice echoed in the air. In high school Brandon had been brooding and superior. That was before he became the now bil
lionaire movie producer. He seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face and she had no idea how he was so successful. He’d never liked her much. She unlocked her three locks, brushed her hair out of her face, and opened the door. "Brandon, go away."
"You'll want to hear my offer," he said, and walked inside her small studio. The couch had seen better days, though it was left over from her last play that she’d ended up funding entirely on her own, despite going hungry.
"I'm not acting anymore." Not that she had any job at the moment. Or income. Or savings. Not that she'd think about that right now—other than she needed to eat and not go hungry for the next few months.
"I know you're pregnant."
At least he hadn't thought her fat, though her pseudo friend Penny, had encouraged her by saying no one would suspect it, even after Eva almost ruined Penny’s wedding. Brandon hadn't been at that wedding though she remembered in high school his words, 'good girls needed to protect themselves' after she’d argued with his sister. She narrowed her gaze at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man who haunted her because he always hated everything about her. "Who told you?"
"My sister."
Calliope. Great. This was worse than high school, all over again. Chris, the fool who’d impregnated her and still intended to marry Calliope without ever letting the bride know about Eva and him. He had pretty much been the last straw in her dating life. He must have tried to go back to her again. Calliope was smart enough to walk away once before. She swallowed.
"She heard it from Chris." Said Brandon.
"If she goes back to him, then she's a fool." She shook her head. "But I won't say a word to them. I seriously will stay out of their lives, forever."
"I say sue Chris for every penny he's worth."
"Oh." So Brandon hated Chris, too. He must have good judgment, then.
Brandon’s gaze narrowed. "And my sister is very much in love with Michael."
"Michael Marshall?" Her voice cracked. Michael was the closest thing she had to a friend who never judged her. He deserved to be in love and happy, and in theory Calliope was good for him. However, it now meant her last single friend was unavailable to call on a whim anymore. Jay, Penny, Sandy, Wyatt, and now Michael were all happily coupled or engaged.
Brandon crossed his hands. "Yeah."
The dark-haired jerk from high school who had always judged her with his every look had no right to be in her messy, small studio. She'd been too tired to clean up lately, though she was no longer throwing up. She needed to lead him to the door and get back to watching a movie. She brushed the goosebumps on her arms. "Brandon, look, I'm not trying to hurt anyone, and Chris is not part of my life."
"I would hope not."
There was that judgment of his again. She stepped back. She was so tired of facing her mistakes. "So, you can go. I hope Calliope and Michael live happily-ever-after."
"Me too."
He had warned her off—there was nothing left for him. The minutes ticked past. He should go. She lowered the hands that covered her belly. "I know you've never liked my life choices."
"Look, it's Christmas, and if there’s one person in the world who needs Christmas, it's you."
Oh great. This was far worse then. Brandon Campbell thought he could come in here and save her. Eva and her baby would be okay. He’d tried that once in high school too, but she’d ducked and hidden until he'd lost sight of her. Now she'd figure out her own life. "You don't have to feel sorry for me, Brandon. I'm not a charity case."
"I know you don't have anyone."
In the past, true, she’d never had anyone she could depend on except herself. She had gone to their high school on an acting scholarship, but always knew deep in her gut no one would ever be the foster kid's friend, though her circle of friends stayed wide. She learned that the hard way. She patted her stomach. "That's not true. Soon, I'll have my daughter."
"Eva, how are you going to support her?"
"I'll figure it out." If there was one thing life had taught her, was that there was always a way, and that was truly the Christmas miracle. "I'm not looking for any more fast bucks and intend to find a steady job."
"Good." He came closer and lowered his head. He smelled good, like cinnamon and cedar trees, which threw her off. A second later, he said, "You just gave away the two million dollars?"
Right. How she almost ruined her friends, Jay and Penny’s wedding on the cruise ship. Jay’s mother had offered to pay her an outrageous sum, but to stop his mother, Jay had ended up doubling the offer to two million for her silence at a wedding she was supposed to only ever be a guest at. With that money, she made good on everything owed, and she and her baby were going to start fresh. As soon as she found a job, life would be better. She pushed her hair behind her ears and explained, "I made good on my promise to pay everyone off from the play."
"That was a waste. They took chances when they agreed to perform and it shut down."
Brandon was ever the cold-hearted businessman. People had joined her performance on faith and she'd make it right for them. "Everyone had families to take care of. I needed to keep my word."
"Even if you can't afford the hospital bill."
Point for him—not that she should be taking life points. They weren't even friends. She avoided being near him. He was Hollywood, glitz and glamour. Whereas the only part of acting that made her feel anything was the audience applause of a nightly show. She craved it. It was all she ever wanted until she found out she was having a baby. "I'm talking to a midwife. She says I can have her at home and save money."
"Eva—"
She put her hand up in front of him. He was all judgment, all the time. "Don't. I know you hate me. You don't have to be here at all, actually. We have nothing to say to each other."
"I don't hate you."
The words stung. Her gaze flickered to the horrible leftover tree she’d scrounged from someone else's trash, with its flickering lights. Her life might not be fancy, but she didn't need his approval or his help. If he didn't hate her, and he knew everything about her life, he couldn’t be smart and that wasn't good at all. She hadn't even told Michael or any of her friends the entire truth. She crossed her arms. "Hate is the wrong word. You look down your nose and pity me. I don't need that. I never did."
"In high school, I was unhappy with my own life, and if I was rude to you, I think that was more because you were kissing Tommy Pratt."
"He was my boyfriend." Her pulse raced. He knew. Oh goodness. He knew it all. It would be better if he just hated her.
"You still call him that?" Brandon asked.
Her face lowered, and she saw how many of her clothes were on the couch. No wonder he hadn't wanted to sit. Her pulse zapped, and she moved closer to her door. "Don't. There’s that judgment. You can go."
"What happened to you on your prom night is why you slept with a man like Chris."
"Don’t start analyzing me." Psychology wasn’t supposed to be used as a weapon. In foster care, she’d been one of the lucky ones that finished school and been reasonably safe. Before her foster mother, Mary, had died, she made her go to Church on Sundays and pray every night for an hour, but she’d protected her and supported her acting. She'd almost stayed innocent until the end. She reached for the door. "Your sister almost married him."
"Almost, but she smartened up. Now she’s with Michael."
Okay, she was confused on his intentions again. Brandon made no sense in her place, and her head hurt from trying to figure him out. She pointed toward the door. "Either way, it's time you to leave."
Again, he came closer to her but this time she felt safe. Most people who came this close ended up in her bed because she never believed in feelings enough to open up her heart to anyone. Life had taught her no one ever truly kept their word and to judge based on actions.
"Wait." He stilled and said, "I meant what I said about having a job for you."
His line of work was not her specialty, and in her condition the cameras added pounds. "W
hy? I’ve never done movies. I've mostly done stage work."
"You have the ability, and that's only part of the job anyhow."
Part? He was a producer. She was an actress. She lowered her hands to her sides, her gaze narrowed. "What do you want?"
"I'm producing a movie starring Matthew Morgan and Jennifer Gonzales. I need a pregnant villain character and also a spy which means you’re pretty perfect, and we both know you need the money."
Acting had always been her saving grace. Perhaps this was her way out of her mess of a life. She paced back and forth until she walked toward the window that faced the back of another building. Wherever Brandon lived must have a nice ocean view, just like all her former classmates. Once, she thought she might fit in their world, but over and over again she learned she never would. Her daughter deserved to have stability, and that was her goal, but a job that paid meant she could save up and finally decide which small town she could disappear to, away from the Miami lifestyle. "Why is she a villain?"
"So, you are interested?"
"Maybe." A few paychecks paid a few overdue bills. She turned toward him and wondered why a movie producer had such well-built arms, but a second later, she sucked in her breath and realized those muscles were probably necessary for these Hollywood types. Either way, this got her out of a jam. "What's the character?"
Brandon spoke down his nose and stared at her. "Laura, your character, shot and killed her husband, and the hero wants to prove it. So it's a game of cat and mouse, where you initially sent Maggie, Jennifer's character, to spy on George, Matthew's character. Laura will kill again if necessary though no one suspects it's you who killed your husband—not until the end."
"Laura sounds interesting, but what am I spying on?"
"Someone on set has gone way over budget."
"That’s vague. Who do you think is spending too much money?"
"Someone is charging expenses that don't make sense for a movie. If I have a pretend girlfriend to visit on the set, I won't set off the temperamental director, or the fiery Jennifer Gonzales, and people will assume you're the reason I stop by so often."
Favorite Coffee, Favorite Sin (The Marshall Family Saga Book 3) Page 9