She tried to look anywhere but Emma’s plate. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
“The next time I plan a party you’ll be the first person I call. And you’ll have to give me the number of the caterer you used. Dinner was fantastic.”
“I’m sure I have their card in my planner,” Paige said, unable to look away as Emma took a nibble of a scallop. It looked both delicious and horrendous at the same time.
“I really shouldn’t be eating these,” she said, “but lately I’m so starving I eat everything that isn’t tied down.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and bile rose in Paige’s throat.
Oh, boy.
“Excuse me, please,” she said, slapping a hand over her mouth and darting for the ladies room. Thank goodness it was close, because Paige barely made it into a stall before she lost the appetizers, and what little else she had eaten that day. It was quick, violent and physically draining.
Oh, this was fun.
When she was finished she wiped her mouth with tissue, flushed the toilet and dragged herself to her feet. She opened the stall, horrified to find standing there not only several wedding guests, but the bride, Margaret Tanner. Emma had apparently followed her inside. Gillian Preston, who worked for the Seaside Gazette was also there, along with Ana Rodriguez.
How utterly embarrassing.
“You okay?” Margaret asked Paige as she crossed to the sink to rinse her mouth. “Tell me it’s not food poisoning.”
“I’m okay. And no, it’s not food poisoning. Your guests are safe.” Unless pregnancy had become a contagious condition, that is. But barfing must have done the trick, because she no longer felt nauseous. Just a little weak, and she was sure that would pass. If she was more careful with what she ate in the future, maybe she could avoid a repeat performance.
“It will get better,” Emma said. “I was sick through my third month, then it just went away. I’ve felt fantastic ever since.”
“When I was pregnant with my son the first few months were pretty rough,” Gillian piped in. “It does get easier.”
“Unless you have the flu,” Ana said, shooting a look to Emma. “In which case you should feel better in a day or two.”
Paige could tell the women were hoping for an explanation, and she saw no reason not to tell them the truth. It wasn’t like it was a big secret. “It’s not the flu.”
“Well then, congratulations!” Emma said, and Gillian asked, “How far along are you?”
“Not very. I only just found out Monday, and with the gala tomorrow, I haven’t had time to see my doctor yet.” But she had found a pregnancy calendar online and it said the baby was due January twenty-second. Which was an eerie, cosmic sort of coincidence considering both she and Brandon were born on the same day. That had to be some kind of sign. Didn’t it?
But she didn’t believe in signs. Isn’t that what she’d told Brandon?
“You and the father must be so excited,” Margaret said.
“Actually, this was a little unexpected. The father…he’s not…” She was mortified to feel tears well in her eyes again. She forced a laugh, but it emerged sounding strangled and pathetic. “It’s complicated.”
Emma touched her arm. “Welcome to the club, sweetie. Everyone here pretty much went through hell, but look at us now, all happy.”
“Look at Will and me,” Margaret said. “We started out pretending to be engaged, never guessing for a second that we would actually fall in love. But here we are, married for real and amazingly happy.”
“And I spent months trying to take down Max’s boss,” Gillian said. “And he more or less blackmailed me into marrying him. I guess when you love someone, it’s easy to overlook the bad stuff.”
Emma gave Paige’s arm a squeeze. “It’ll work out. I promise.”
“Well, I should get back to my groom, before he thinks I fell in,” Margaret joked, fluffing her hair.
“And I have to check in with the babysitter,” Gillian said, digging in her purse for her cell phone. “Ethan had a case of the sniffles earlier today.”
“And I should find Ward before some pretty young thing tries to swoop down and steal him from me,” Ana joked, but her smile said she was anything but worried. “For what it’s worth, we had a pretty rocky start, and we couldn’t be happier now. Although it’s always an adventure being with a rock star.”
“I’m sure everything will work out,” Paige said. The problem was, she wasn’t sure. She prided herself on keeping her life in order, but since Brandon came along, everything was all mixed up. For the first time, she didn’t have her next moved plotted out. She was flying blind.
Emma slipped her arm through Paige’s. “Why don’t we go find a quiet corner and chat?”
Paige looked at her watch. “I really need to get things ready for the bouquet toss.”
“I think the bouquet can wait.”
She nodded and they walked—well, Emma waddled—to the back corner where there were empty tables. Margaret and William were chatting with their guests and she spotted Gillian and Max dancing. Ward was signing autographs on paper napkins for a group of giggly young girls while Ana looked on with nothing but love and pride. They did all look happy.
Paige barely knew Emma, and she didn’t make it a habit of pouring her heart out to a virtual stranger, but it felt good to get it off her chest. And learning that Emma had been in a similar situation—an accidental pregnancy with a man she had just met—gave her hope that everything would be okay. Even if they could never be together, she at least needed to be sure he knew how much she respected him, and what a good father she knew he would be.
There wouldn’t be time before the gala, but when it was over she and Brandon were going to talk. Whether he wanted to hear her out or not.
Brandon had spent the rest of the week at the ranch. He tended to the horses, chopped wood, ran to town for supplies, anything to keep his mind off what had started as a nagging suspicion, and had now festered into an undeniable fact.
He was a jerk.
Saturday afternoon, when he should have been getting ready to leave for the gala, he sat in the grass at the foot of his mother’s grave, in the family plot about a quarter mile from the house, repulsed by the realization that he had been so jaded by the women in his life, so used to being disappointed, that he’d come to expect it. He had condemned Paige without even bothering to try to see things from her point of view. Without letting her explain. Not that she needed to.
He may have had his share of problems growing up, but he’d never once had to worry if he would lose the roof over his head, or where his next meal was coming from. He’d never set foot in a homeless shelter, much less had to live in one. He had no idea what it was like to not have money. So naturally he had just assumed that when she said she needed security, that was code for material excess. Big houses and fancy cars. When deep down, in his heart, he knew that Paige was one of the least materialistic women he’d ever met.
Knowing what she’d gone through, and how hard she had worked to overcome her past, he’d had the gall to expect her to just give it all up, to take it on faith that an uneducated ranch hand, a man she had known for less than three weeks, was going to take care of her.
And really, what reason had he given her that would make her want to marry him? To give up everything that was important to her?
It’s what’s best for the baby. Jesus. How romantic was that? He hadn’t even had the decency to get down on one knee. To tell her he loved her. In retrospect, if she had said yes, he might be seriously questioning her motives, not to mention her sanity.
And as if he didn’t feel like enough of a jerk, he kept playing over in his head what she said about the ranch. How he belonged there, and she wanted him to be happy. The truth is, she was way too good for him.
He sensed more than heard Ellie walk up. The woman gave off a vibe—Look out, here comes trouble.
She sat beside him in the grass and handed him one of the two beers she was h
olding.
“Thanks.”
“Nice day,” she said.
He took a deep swallow. “Hmm.”
For a while she didn’t say anything else. She just sat there beside him in companionable silence, sipping her beer, using whatever voodoo it was that compelled him to spill his guts when she knew he’d rather not talk about it. Like…mental Chinese water torture.
When the pressure got to be too much he finally said, “I suppose you want to know what happened.”
She shrugged. “Only if you’re ready to talk about it.”
He wasn’t. But only because he knew she would hit him with brutal honesty. She would walk through fire for him, but if she thought he was being a dufus, she wasn’t shy about saying so.
And he was definitely a dufus.
“We had a fight.”
“Did she break your heart?”
“No. But I’m pretty sure I broke hers.”
She looked up at him, clearly confused. “Was it a preemptive strike? Because I was under the distinct impression that girl is crazy about you.”
Twist the knife a little deeper.
“She’s pregnant.”
He braced for a lecture on the virtues of safe sex, or a demand that he do the right thing, but all she did was smile and say, “Grandma Ellie. That has a nice ring to it.”
The woman never failed to surprise him. “You’re not disappointed in me?”
“A baby is a blessing,” she said, looking a little sad. An accident when she was a young girl prevented her from ever having kids of her own. But the truth was, she had been more of a mother to him than his own mother ever had.
“I asked her to marry me.”
She nodded, like she had expected as much. “She turned you down.”
He turned to look at her. “You don’t seem surprised. I thought she was crazy about me.”
“She’s a smart girl. Why would she marry a man she barely knows? And why would you ask her when she doesn’t even know your real name?”
“I thought you would be happy that I tried to do the right thing.”
“Marriage is not always the right thing. Look at your parents. Do you honestly think they were better off for it?”
The question stung a little, but she was right. He looked over at his mother’s tombstone.
Loving wife and mother.
Far from it. As a wife she had been suspicious and neurotic. As a mother, vacant at best.
“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to forgive her,” Ellie said. “And yourself.”
“If I had gone upstairs just ten minutes sooner…”
“You might have saved her. That time. But there would have been another time, Brandon.” She paused then added, “There always was.”
He closed his eyes, braced himself against the burn in his heart. He had always suspected there had been other attempts. He recalled vaguely from his childhood, times when she had been gone for a week or two. “Your mother isn’t feeling well,” his father used to say.
No one had ever come right out and admitted it. Until now. He could have asked. Maybe he should have. Or maybe he just didn’t want to face the truth. Maybe it had been easier to blame his father for all of their problems, to channel all the disappointment and anger at a living, breathing target.
“She was a lousy mother, yet I’m still furious with her for abandoning me. She was self-centered, and narcissistic—”
“And sick, Brandon. Your mother was a very sick woman. You have to let it go.”
“I’m trying.”
She took a swallow of her beer. “Clint says you heard from that accountant you hired to look over the Hannah’s Hope financial records.”
He nodded. “He called yesterday afternoon.”
“Did he tell you what you wanted to hear?”
“He told me what I expected to hear.”
“So you’re going through with it? Your grand announcement.”
“That’s the plan.” He’d come this far, there was no backing out now. Besides, what he had to say needed to be heard.
She nodded thoughtfully, then glanced over at him and grinned.
“What?”
She reached up and patted the cleanly shaven cheek, rumpled his freshly cut hair like he was ten years old again. “It’s good to have the old Brandon back.”
“It’s good to be back.” Although somehow home didn’t feel the same anymore. And he was pretty sure it wouldn’t until Paige was at his side.
So maybe it was time he stopped sitting around feeling sorry for himself and did something about it.
Fifteen
So far the gala had gone exactly as planned, even better than Paige had hoped. Except that Brandon hadn’t shown up yet. It was nearly time for him to accept his award and he was nowhere to be found. Paige had tried his cell phone at least a dozen times but he wasn’t answering. She’d called the ranch and Ellie said he’d left hours ago. Since then she’d been nervously watching the door. She knew he was upset, but he had an obligation to Hannah’s Hope. He simply had to show up. If not for her, then for the people who had volunteered their time to help him.
Ana approached Paige, looking anxious. “Have you heard from him?”
She shook her head. This was all her fault. If she had only waited to tell Brandon about the baby until after the gala—or if she hadn’t started seeing him in the first place—this wouldn’t be happening.
Emma—who after last night Paige now counted as a dear friend—waddled over and introduced Paige to Chase Larson, her husband.
“Great party,” Chase told Paige, shaking her hand, and said with a grin, “You’ve made quite an impression on my wife. Emma has decided that we need to have a party just so we can hire you to organize it.”
“I would be honored. In fact, I have a few really cool theme ideas I could show you.”
“I’ll call you first thing Monday and we’ll set up a time,” Emma said, then asked, “Feeling a little better tonight?”
Physically, yes, because she’d been careful about what she ate, but emotionally she was a wreck. “I’m nervous about seeing him again.”
Emma took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
She looked so earnest, Paige almost believed her, then Ward Miller’s band started their set, which was loud enough to make talking nearly impossible. Ward wowed the crowd with a few of his biggest hits while Ana looked on proudly, then he wowed the crowd further with a substantial donation from the Cara Miller Foundation.
“Awesome party!” Gillian Preston gushed, approaching Paige near the buffet table as she was checking that the appetizers were being replenished. “Have you met my husband, Max?”
Paige shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“You’ve made Rafe a very happy man,” Max said with a warm smile. “He has a lot riding on this and you’re making him look very good. I assure you he won’t forget it.”
“And I’m going to write a piece for the Seaside Gazette that will have everyone champing at the bit to hire you for their next event,” Gillian said.
“That would be really awesome,” Paige said, basking in the glow of her accomplishment, even when inside she still felt tied in knots.
At least something in her life was going really well. And if Brandon couldn’t find it in his heart to forgive her, her success would give her and the baby the financial security they needed. Rafe Cameron even took a minute away from schmoozing with potential donors to tell her how pleased he was with the party, and that he would definitely be using her services again in the future. The night was barely half over and already it had been more of a success than she could have ever hoped. But for the chance to be with Brandon, she would happily leave it all behind. She just hoped he would give her one more chance.
“Paige?”
The deep rumble of Brandon’s voice coming from behind her plucked every one of Paige’s frayed nerve endings. She’d been dying to see him, and now sh
e was scared to death.
She turned slowly, both anticipating and dreading this, and when her eyes landed on the man standing behind her, her jaw dropped.
“Brandon?”
He had shaved, and cut his hair. And he looked so gorgeous in his tux that her heart actually stung. And though she hadn’t meant to do it here, the words just sort of gushed out. “I am so sorry.”
“No, I am,” he said, then he reached for her, and she didn’t care who saw them, or her professional image. She threw herself in his arms and hugged him tight.
She pressed her face to his chest, breathed him in. God, this was so good. So right. How could she have ever doubted him? She had to fight the tears of relief welling in her eyes. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I just needed some time.” He cupped her cheek in his rough palm, lifted her face to his. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. And I didn’t mean anything I said. You just surprised me. Then I got scared.”
“I know. I blindsided you, then I didn’t give you a chance to explain.”
“It was never about the money.”
“I know.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. It felt a little strange without the facial hair, yet deliciously familiar.
“Is there somewhere we could go to talk?” he asked.
“There’s no time now. You’re due on stage any minute.”
“Brandon!” Ana said, scurrying up to them. “Thank God, you made it.” She stopped short and looked him up and down. “Wow, nice threads. Paige must have gotten one hell of a deal.”
Puzzled, Paige stepped back and took in his clothing. This was definitely not the tux they had ordered. In fact, she would bet it wasn’t even a rental. The silk was exquisite, and she was guessing by the precise fit it had to be custom-made.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“Long story. That’s why we need to talk.” He asked Ana, “Could you give us two minutes?”
“Two minutes,” she said, hurrying off in the direction of the stage.
Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire Page 15