Her Best Friend’s Wedding

by Abby Gaines

  Although today that ambition took second place behind making Daniel think hard about his priorities—if he was going to marry Meg, he needed to handle his parents better.

  The ring of the phone on the wall in Lab Three penetrated the music. She answered.

  “There’s a Mr. Kincaid to see you,” reported Debra, the receptionist. Her bright tone suggested she’d noticed Trey’s good looks and was wildly curious about his interest in Sadie.

  Why was he here? Sadie glanced at her watch. Damn the man, he must have a sixth sense—she was due to have lunch with Daniel any minute. Maybe she could get rid of him fast.

  She didn’t take time to freshen her lipstick or tidy her hair, no doubt mussed from her habit of running her fingers through it while she pondered. Trey had seen her at her bleary-eyed worst. Had kissed her at her bleary-eyed worst.

  She found him in the reception area flicking through the latest New Scientist. With his dark T-shirt stretching across broad shoulders, faded work jeans and solid boots, he was as out of place there as she would be on a catwalk. Yet he looked exactly right.

  “I figured you must be due a lunch break,” he said. “Can we get a bite?”

  Sadie glanced at her watch. “I have plans for lunch. Come back to the lab with me now, and you can talk while I pack up.”

  In the elevator she pressed for the basement. The doors slid closed.

  “I want to thank you for bailing me out with Mom yesterday,” he said.

  “No problem. I couldn’t come up with anything as creative as your Wes Burns story, but it got us out of there.”

  He grinned at the reminder of Wes, and made a zipping motion across his lips. Oh, yeah, he’d promised never to say that name again.

  The elevator reached the second-level basement, and the doors opened. Sadie swiped her card to enter Lab Three.

  Trey inspected her work area. “Fancy microscope.”

  “It’s a microspectrometer. Infrared.” She began packing up her papers.

  “Do you use this for your wheat-protein project?”

  She was surprised he remembered that much. “Er, no. This is just something I was doing for my own interest.”

  “A hobby,” he suggested, amused.

  “More interesting than collecting stamps,” she defended herself.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed, so smoothly she knew he didn’t mean it. He looked at the digital image displayed on the microspectrometer’s small screen. “What are you collecting here?”

  “Whole wheat kernels,” she said reluctantly. She might as well go for the full eye-glaze. Bamboozle him with jargon so he’d be desperate to get out of there. Which would suit her just fine, since she didn’t want him getting wind of her lunch plans.

  “High-protein wheat is important, but I’m looking at an earlier stage of the life cycle,” she said. “Protein content ceases to be relevant if the seed is damaged or is planted in an unfavorable environment and doesn’t end up germinating. If we can develop more robust seeds that will survive flood or drought or lack of soil nutrients, then we can grow wheat in conditions previously deemed impossible. And not only grow it, but produce bigger, more vigorous crops.”

  “How do you do that?” he asked, apparently still with her.

  “Antioxidants. All wheat varieties contain them, but some are more powerful than others—the diversity of phytochemicals in wheat bran is extraordinary. It’s a matter of identifying the most powerful and finding the trigger that turns them on.”

  He started to laugh.

  She stiffened. “What’s so funny?” She unzipped her laptop bag in a short, sharp movement and began gathering papers.

  “You can’t manage to grow rhododendrons, one of the easiest plants to cultivate, in the finest soil in your own front yard…but here you are planning to help farmers in Africa grow plants in conditions that are literally impossible.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” she said.

  “So when will this stop being just a hobby?”

  She gave a short laugh. “No idea.”

  “But it sounds incredible. World-changing.”

  “Potentially,” she agreed. “But there are a hundred different theories as to how to achieve the goal. It’s hard to get research funding when the waters are so muddied. I need to convince someone to put money into it. But my boss doesn’t like the idea and I kind of overreacted to his negativity.”

  “What are your options?” he asked.

  “Leave SeedTech. Develop my idea further in my own time in the hope I can convince my boss. Apply for a grant. Plenty of options—I just haven’t figured out which is the best.” She slipped her papers into her bag. “But you didn’t come here to talk about that.” Though she’d enjoyed telling him about it.

  “I’m here about your garden,” he said. “You told my mom I’m designing it.”

  “I was giving you an excuse to leave.”

  “She’s going to want to see the evidence,” he said. “I’ll design it, and you can plant it if you want. Otherwise I’ll supply a couple of laborers from the garden center and you can supervise them doing the work.”

  It sounded tempting.

  The desk phone next to the microspectrometer rang. Out of habit, Sadie hit the speakerphone button to answer.

  “Daniel Wilson is here for your lunch appointment.” Debra’s voice boomed into the lab.

  Trey’s face darkened. “I thought you said you were giving up on Daniel.”

  “We eat together a couple of times a week as friends,” Sadie said. “Meg knows all about it.”

  “Cancel him,” he ordered.

  “No. There’s nothing going on.” She stalked out of the lab. They traveled back to reception in silence. As they exited the elevator, Sadie’s cell phone rang.

  It was Lexie, calling to say she’d confirmed their girls’ night out with Meg for tomorrow. Sadie stepped away from Trey to note down the details. When she ended the call, Trey was chatting to Daniel over by the window.

  “Daniel said it’s okay for me to join you for lunch,” Trey said.

  Debra looked blatantly envious as Sadie headed to the cafeteria with two gorgeous men. Too bad one of them’s marrying my best friend and the other would like to squish me under the wheels of a rotary hoe.

  At least it should be clear to Trey the cafeteria was no place for an attempted seduction, Sadie thought. The orange plastic trays, cling-wrapped sandwiches and plastic salad tubs weren’t exactly the food of love. Though that hadn’t stopped her falling for Daniel in this very place.

  She closed down those thoughts as she wove between the tables with her tray of lasagna, the hot dish of the day.

  “How’s your mom doing?” Trey asked Daniel.

  “We’re hoping she’ll move out of ICU next week,” he said.

  “Great!” Trey said heartily. “That means no delay in the wedding, right?”

  “I hope not,” Daniel said.

  It was the perfect opportunity for Sadie. Of course, Trey wouldn’t understand. But it had to be said.

  “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to delay awhile,” she said. “While you iron out a few issues.”

  A forkful of lasagna halfway to his mouth, Daniel said, “What issues?”

  “She has no idea what she’s talking about,” Trey said.

  She attacked a piece of lasagna with her knife. Trey raised his eyebrows at her vehemence.

  “I’m talking about your parents’ attitude to Meg,” Sadie said.

  Daniel looked uncomfortable. “I’ll admit it’s not the easiest relationship.”

  “Your mom outright doesn’t like Meg,” she accused him.

  “Is that true?” Trey demanded.

  “Mom’s adjusting,” Daniel said.

  Sadie snorted.

  “You’re right, we need to work on this,” he said quickly. He paused. “It would help if Meg would visit Mom in the hospital.”

  “She’s been flying a lot,” Sadie said.

  “I kn
ow,” Daniel said.

  “I’m sure Meg will visit her soon,” Trey said

  Daniel didn’t look convinced.

  LEXIE HAD CHOSEN THE nightclub for girls’ night: Urban, tucked in an alleyway off Beale Street. They’d arranged to meet at nine o’clock, which to Sadie seemed late to be going out, but which both Lexie and Meg fretted was too early to be cool.

  Over the course of several phone conversations, Sadie had exchanged a lot of information with Lexie. More accurately, Lexie spilled intimate details of her own life, and issued speculation about Sadie’s that Sadie didn’t feel compelled to confirm or deny. It seemed Lexie didn’t know that some people went to bed at ten most nights, accompanied by nothing sexier than a good book.

  However, it was so refreshing being considered remotely cool, Sadie felt obliged to dress appropriately. She’d borrowed a couple of items from Meg.

  “You don’t think this dress is too short?” she asked Meg as she caught a reflection of the hot-pink slip dress in a car window as they crossed the parking lot.

  “For the tenth time, no,” Meg said. “What will you do if I say yes—take it off?”

  Sadie pulled a face at her, then tripped inelegantly as one of Meg’s too-big high-heeled shoes caught in a grate.

  “Careful, those are my third-favorite shoes,” Meg said.

  Sadie grabbed her arm to steady herself.

  “This is nice,” Meg said. “Just the two of us going out.”

  “Plus Lexie,” Sadie said.

  Meg laughed. “I can’t believe you and Lexie get along so well.”

  “It’s a mystery,” Sadie agreed.

  Inside, the nightclub was blue and smoky—dry ice, not cigarettes—with silver walls. The volume of the music hurt her ears.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Meg yelled up close, seeing her discomfort. “Then we can talk.”

  Talk. That was why they were there. Sadie was no longer sure getting Lexie to point out the trouble spots in Meg and Daniel’s relationship was the right thing, but Lexie had heard enough complaints from Meg about Daniel’s parents that she had no such qualms. Sadie decided she would let the evening flow, and whatever happened, happened.

  Lexie had nabbed a table on the edge of the dance floor and bought a round of scary-looking cocktails.

  They danced their way through the next music set. A few guys joined them, mostly angling for Lexie’s attention, or Meg’s. One man in particular seemed taken with Meg, flirting heavily. Sadie couldn’t help noticing she was flirting back, though in a much lighter vein.

  When the DJ took a break, Lexie started in on her concerns for Meg.

  “No relationship is perfect,” Meg said. “Everyone has to compromise somewhere.” She held her glass up to a passing waiter and indicated they’d have another round.

  “So long as it’s not you doing all the compromising,” Lexie said.

  “The important thing,” Sadie said, “is to figure this stuff out before the wedding.”

  The full-on music started again, making talk impossible. Sadie joined Meg and Lexie on the dance floor, not caring that her more conservative dance style set her apart. Meg’s number-one admirer was back hanging around her, encouraged by the flirty looks she was darting beneath her lashes.

  When the songs turned slower, quieter, they took another break. Before any of them realized what he was doing, Meg’s admirer swooped in and kissed her swiftly on the lips before he disappeared to the bar.

  “He has a nerve.” Meg touched her lips, smiling at his brazenness.

  “He’s cute,” Lexie said as they sat down at their table.

  “He’s all yours.” Meg sounded slightly wistful.

  “Actually,” Lexie said, “I’ve given up on casual sex.” When both Sadie and Meg choked on their drinks, she tried to look offended, but she couldn’t hold it. She laughed. “I don’t know if it’s you getting married, Meg, or Sadie attracting Trey’s attention without having to take her clothes off…”

  “I don’t have Trey’s attention,” Sadie protested. Her skin tingled.

  “If you don’t want him, there are plenty of others who do,” Lexie retorted.

  Meg shuddered. “Can we not talk about my brother and sex in the same breath?”

  “So I’ve decided,” Lexie said, “I’m not going to add one more notch to my bedpost until I meet a guy I really care about. I might even hold out for Mr. Right.”

  Their new drinks arrived, and they waited while their empty glasses were cleared away.

  “That’s impressive,” Meg said.

  Lexie shrugged. “The number of notches is starting to get a little embarrassing.”

  When the next music set started, Lexie announced she was leaving.

  “It’s only eleven,” Meg protested.

  “Trey’s giving me a ride home,” she said. “He must have heard you talking on the phone to me yesterday, Sadie. He asked if he could come along. I told him it was girls only, but he could take me home.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  A wave of primeval emotion swept Sadie. An instinct that made her want to wrestle Lexie to the floor, grab a handful of that blond hair and pull. Hard.

  “What about your ‘no more notches’ policy?” she asked.

  “That’s the beauty of exes,” Lexie crowed. “They don’t count as new notches.”

  After she left, the place felt flat. Meg ordered them another drink, then raised her glass in a toast.

  “To freedom.” The words were slightly slurred. “To a night with my dear friend Sadie. And Lexie. No men.”

  Was Meg implying she felt trapped by her engagement? Something unidentified surged through Sadie. She warned herself not to jump to conclusions as she took a sip from her own drink. “You love Daniel, honey,” she reminded Meg.

  “I do love Daniel,” Meg said morosely. “I wish he was here.”

  Sadie lost her stomach for relationship probing. Who really knew what was going on between Meg and Daniel? She pulled out her cell phone and thumbed through her recent contacts until she had Daniel’s number on the screen. She pressed Call, then held the phone out to Meg.

  “Call him. Tell him to come down here.”

  Meg held the phone to her ear. Then she gasped. “I can’t call him! Quick, how do I hang up?” She scanned the keypad and pushed the button to end the call. She dropped the phone onto the table among the empty cocktail glasses as if it was contagious.

  “What was that about?” Sadie asked.

  “I told Daniel I was flying tonight,” she said. “He thinks I’m on my way to Orlando.”

  “Meg!” Sadie said, shocked.

  “He wanted me to spend the evening at the hospital with him and his dad.” Her voice pleaded for understanding.

  “Sweetheart, you’ve got to get over this…whatever it is. Daniel needs your support.”

  “I know,” Meg said miserably. “I know.”

  “What if it was Daniel in the hospital, needing you?”

  Meg blanched. She lifted her glass again. “To freedom,” she reiterated. It sounded half plea, half defiance.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MEG KEPT A CAREFUL EYE out for Daniel as she filtered her way into the arrivals area at Memphis International Airport. Luckily, at 8:00 a.m. the terminal was so busy, if she bumped into him she could say she’d been searching for him in the crowd. A quick check of the arrivals board showed that Flight 2203 from Orlando had landed on time, twenty minutes ago. He was so sweet the way he liked to meet her at the airport whenever he could.

  Someone jostled her; she tightened her grip on her roll-on overnight bag as she scanned the crowd. She was just a few feet from the arrival doorway now, so he should be…

  There.

  To her left. Like her, he was searching the throng with his eyes.

  Her heart quickened at the sight of him. His handsome face set him apart from the crowd, but it wasn’t just that. He looked open and honest and approachable. That she couldn’t approach him in one par
ticular area was her fault, not his. And perhaps a symptom of the brevity of their relationship. Because one look at him and you could see he was a decent guy. A hot, decent guy. She smiled to herself at the thought of how she might make amends to him for her deception. Maybe even right now, if he didn’t mind being late to the clinic…

  “Daniel,” she called joyously.

  He turned, their eyes met. Meg pushed through the crowd to him. “Sweetheart, it’s so good to see you!”

  It had been only twenty-four hours since she’d kissed him goodbye, but it felt like weeks. She wrapped her arms around him, kissed him long and hard.

  After a second he kissed her back. Hungrily. Mmm, he tastes so good.

  When he released her, she could barely stand.

  “How was Orlando?” he asked.

  “Hot.” She grimaced. “It hit a hundred ten yesterday afternoon. They had one of those instant thunderstorms. We had to wait on the runway for half an hour before we could unload.” She’d asked a colleague who’d worked yesterday’s flight for a report.

  He let go of her, his fingers springing free as if a coil of tension had snapped. “Liar.”

  One soft, dangerous word that hardened his face, closed it.

  Even though she was a liar, it felt like a slap. “Daniel…”

  “Sadie called me last night,” he said.

  Sadie? Meg reeled, clutched tighter at her roller bag.

  “I overheard your conversation. You were obviously in some bar.”

  “Nightclub,” she said mechanically. Sadie had betrayed her?

  “Toasting your freedom,” he said.

  Oh, hell, now she remembered. Sadie had dialed Daniel, Meg had taken the phone. Then she’d panicked and canceled the call. Or so she thought.

  She remembered tossing the phone down on the table. It had sat there, still connected, and Daniel had listened.

  “Can we go somewhere to talk about this?” she asked.

  “We’ll talk here,” he said. “Right now I’m so angry I could break something.”

  Daniel would never hurt her. But she’d hurt him.

  Meg closed her eyes. “Darling, I’m sorry. I should have told you right at the start.”

  “Told me what?” He folded his arms across his chest. She wanted them around her, warm and solid and safe.