A Day Late and a Bride Short

by Jacobs, Holly

  Some days she didn’t. He assumed those were days she had business luncheons, or other appointments. And he would never admit it to her—he barely admitted it to himself—those days he felt a bit let down.

  But most days she was there.

  Sometimes she even brought a sketchpad along with her lunch and would sit on a park bench and work on things.

  Decorating designs, he imagined.

  He’d never tell her that every now and again he thought about taking a lunch outside and accidentally bumping into her. Maybe sitting right next to her on the same bench and eating.

  That he’d been tempted to go back to her store and visit again after that day in the rain. There was something about Sarah that pulled at him. And if it wasn’t for this entire marriage-to-make-partner nonsense, he’d never have talked to her again, other than a polite nod on the street. He had a career to build. He didn’t have time for a relationship.

  He’d grown up in a household where his parents tried to balance careers and a family—unfortunately the family part had suffered. When his grandmother had come to live with them, things had been better. She’d always been there for him. But he still felt the lack.

  He’d never had parents who came to all his football games, or to PTA meetings, or any of the other school activities parents typically attend. His mom had her business meetings, his dad had surgery, or rounds, or...

  Donovan swore that he’d build his career first, then think about a relationship, and maybe someday, a family. He’d make sure he’d reached a level at work where he could handle both. First step to that end was making partner. Then a few more years of establishing himself as one of the premier attorneys in Erie, then, maybe then he’d be ready for more.

  By then Sarah would have found someone. A woman like her was going to be snapped up by someone.

  He watched her surrounded by his colleagues.

  Yeah, he’d meant what he’d said. Sarah Madison was a forever kind of woman. And the last thing Donovan needed was a woman with engagement rings on her mind.

  Of course, she was wearing his engagement ring right now. He wasn’t sure why he’d given her his grandmother’s ring. And he certainly wasn’t sure why he’d told her the family story. But she’d gotten her wish; it was an engagement she could tell people about.

  But it wouldn’t last.

  Next week she’d give the thing back and he’d return to his life, a partner in the firm before he hit thirty-five. That had always been his goal. Then he’d continue building his client base, and someday soon, maybe he’d be ready to love a woman like Sarah.

  He noticed she was looking at him. There was a hint of pleading in her eyes. He could tell she needed him. There was trust and confidence in her look. She trusted him to come running and was confident he could get her out of whatever she’d gotten herself into.

  That she’d looked to him sent a surge of...something coursing through his veins. He wasn’t sure what to call it, and wasn’t about to try to define it. He walked across the crowded room. He could see relief in Sarah’s face the closer he drew.

  “Sarah, I thought I was going to have to send a search party. I missed you,’’ he said, draping his arm over her shoulder as if he belonged there. As if she belonged with him.

  “Donovan, your friends have been generously offering to assist us with planning our wedding,’’ she said.

  He could hear a faint tremor in her voice and resisted groaning. What on earth was Leland up to now?

  “That’s nice of you all, but I’m sure Sarah and I can manage.’’

  “Manage?” Leland scoffed as he said the word. “Why, the poor girl was planning to wait until next year for her autumn wedding. We won’t make either of you suffer like that. The girls suggested you marry here, at our home. You know, we’re right on the lake, and Sarah’s right, the trees will be more dazzling than any decoration. We thought we’d try for the second weekend in October. Her parents will be home by then, and it’s a bit too early for even Erie to have a snowstorm, so that’s perfect.”

  “But...” Donovan said. But this was the last night of their engagement, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t say that. In fact, for a man who prided himself with being articulate, Donovan couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I think what Donovan is trying to say,” Sarah said, “is we just can’t allow you all to put yourselves out like this on our behalves. But we thank you all for your kind offer.”

  “No, no. You’re not robbing us of our fun. Oh, it’s been so long since the family had a wedding. And I do so love weddings,” Dorothy said.

  “Oh, yes, we’re all going to have so much fun,” Leland said.

  Fun.

  That’s not the word Donovan would use.

  He looked at Sarah.

  Judging by the expression on her face, he doubted it would be her word choice, either.

  Chapter Four

  DONOVAN TO THE RESCUE.

  Like a knight in shining armor, he’d rescued her from wedding plans, giving vague, Sarah and I will talk about it, responses. She could have kissed him, but of course wouldn’t, because though they were engaged, they weren’t really.

  Although...the thought of kissing Donovan wasn’t overly upsetting. Sarah had a feeling that the only thing kissing him would upset was her equilibrium, so she opted not to and instead settled for, “Thanks so much. I don’t know how that happened, but I appreciate you getting me out of there. Next thing you know, they’d probably move past the wedding plans and right on to baby showers.”

  Donovan had been quiet, even for Donovan. His only response was something akin to a grunt. So Sarah let silence wash between them as they made their goodbyes—well, actually Donovan made their goodbyes. Short, curt, we’re-going-now, goodbyes. Sarah tossed in a few thank you for the lovely evenings, but this didn’t seem to go over well with Donovan.

  He practically tossed her into the car, then slammed her door behind her. He slammed his own when he got in on his side, then sped off.

  Fine.

  He was angry about the wedding plans.

  Sarah went over and over the whole surreal scene, trying to decide what she could have done differently, and the only thing she could come up with was if she’d never gotten engaged to Donovan in the first place, then she wouldn’t have ended up in that absurd predicament.

  Well, let him be angry, she thought as they pulled up in front of her store.

  “Thanks for the ride home,’’ she said, prepared to make her escape. She tugged at the ring that weighed so heavily on her ever since he’d slid it into place.

  It wasn’t coming off.

  Just one more complication in the world’s most bizarre evening ever.

  “The ring is stuck. I’ll just soap it up when I get in and return it—”

  “Leave it for now and go get your car,” he said, his voice and expression unreadable. “I’ll follow you home. We have to talk about this.”

  “No,” Sarah said in an automatic, flat response.

  “No? You’re not willing to talk about this...this situation we find ourselves in?”

  “Yes, I’ll talk to you about that, but no, you don’t have to follow me home. We can talk at my office.”

  It was pride. She knew it was pride. But still, she wasn’t telling Donovan that she was living in her office because she couldn’t afford anything else. She hadn’t told her parents and she wasn’t telling him.

  “Sarah, don’t be silly. I’ll follow you home. It’s late. I don’t like the thought of you going into your house unescorted anyway.”

  “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, Donovan. I’ve been on my own a long time, and will be on my own again when this charade has ended. No matter what your firm thinks, this isn’t a real engagement. You have no obligation to me, other than settling that lawsuit.”

  “Sarah, what are you hiding?” he asked.

  A sleeper-sofa in her office would be an accurate reply, but she settled for, “I don
’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do. I’ve spent too many years reading people not to know when someone is being evasive. What is it about your home that you don’t want me to know? Is it in a run-down section of town? You told me you had financial problems. I don’t expect you to live in a mansion. I might be accused of a lot of things, but I don’t think snob is a word that people use to describe me. Is it?”

  “No,” she hastily assured him. “I’ve never heard anyone say you were a snob. They don’t even say a lot of things about you. At least not to me. Although, maybe it’s because I’m your fiancée and they figure I’d defend you,” she said, half-joking.

  “Would you?” he asked.

  “Would I what?” Following the twists and turns of Donovan’s conversation was challenging. She could see why he was such a good attorney. He kept you on your toes as you tried to follow along.

  “Would you defend me?” he asked.

  The question sounded sincere. Did he care if she’d defend him or not?

  “Sure I would,” she said softly. “You know, I think you’re a much nicer guy than you let on, Donovan. I mean, either you’re overbearing, thinking you have to see me safely home, or you’re sweet. I’m voting for sweet.”

  “I’m not sweet.” He scowled as he said the word, as if the mere sound of it offended his sensibilities.

  Sarah resisted telling him that his reaction was even sweeter than his wanting to take care of her.

  “Okay, if you say so,” she said, trying to placate him. “But I’m not taking you to my home, so if you want to talk, we’ll talk in my office.”

  She opened her car door, ready to leave the car and the absurd argument behind.

  Donovan reached past her and pulled her door shut. “Never mind, we’ll talk at my house, and I’ll bring you back when we’re done.”

  He put the car into drive and swung around Perry Square and down State Street.

  “Donovan, I don’t want to put you out,” she said. “Just drop me off and let me get my car, I’ll follow you. That way you won’t have to bring me home later.”

  “You’re not putting me out. Like I said during our crash-course on each other, I’ve got a condo on the bay. It will only take a few minutes to take you back later.”

  They lapsed back into silence.

  Sarah should have just told him she was living out of her office. But she knew he’d lecture her, just like her parents would lecture her if they knew.

  Well, she didn’t need any lectures. She was a big girl. And she knew that things would be tight when she decided to go into business for herself. She knew it, and she accepted the consequences.

  Donovan’s car stopped. His was the last condo, right at the edge of the water.

  She should have guessed. Only the best would do for Elias Donovan. She silently rolled his first name around in her mouth. She liked the feel of it Elias.

  Yes, she liked it, though with the mood he was in, she wasn’t going to risk using it. She’d just think it.

  Elias.

  He hit a garage door opener and slid his car into the garage.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly. He got out of the car and led her to the door and opened it

  Sarah planted her feet, for some reason unwilling to go into Donovan’s home. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if she was afraid of him. No, just the opposite. She trusted him. That’s why she’d made the appointment with him instead of one of the other attorneys at his firm.

  She didn’t understand that feeling of trust. It wasn’t as if she really knew him. Other than that day he’d rushed into her box-littered store, she hadn’t said more than two words to him. Even then they hadn’t really conversed. But there was something about Elias Donovan that made her feel...safe. Her father would have a lot to say about trusting a man based on an unsubstantiated feeling, but Sarah couldn’t help it.

  She trusted Donovan.

  But trust or not, she needed to keep what was between them strictly business. Meeting in his office, messy as it was, or hers, that was business.

  Coming into his home...well, it wasn’t.

  “Really, Donovan, this isn’t necessary, and...and I have to get up early, so I need to get home to bed now. You can stop by my office tomorrow afternoon.”

  His hand was planted firmly in the small of her back as he practically pushed her into his kitchen. “Liar. Tomorrow is Sunday, so there’s no need to make it an early evening. You can sleep in.”

  “I have work to do. I’m trying to get my company off the ground, remember? I don’t take weekends off.”

  “Well, you can take one morning off and sleep in. We need to talk now and figure out what to do.” He flipped on the main light.

  The kitchen was...sleek. That was the right word for it. Chrome fixtures. Black countertops. White cupboards. And an entire wall that was pretty much glass, overlooking the bay. Even in the dark, little lights dotted the water. Boats, or maybe buoys?

  Sarah wasn’t sure.

  What she was sure of was that if she’d designed Donovan’s kitchen, she’d have done it like this. The style suited him.

  He had a glass table set right in front of the huge expanse of windows and he pulled out one of the two chairs. “Sit.”

  “I—” Sarah was about to argue, but one look at Donovan’s expression convinced her it was best to get this over with. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want something to drink?” he asked.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “I have some wine open,” he said, as if he didn’t hear her negative response. He poured two glasses and brought them to the table. “Here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, about these wedding plans?”

  “Donovan, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it happened. One minute I was talking to Hanni, Brigitta and Liesl, and the next thing I knew Mr. and Mrs. Wagner were there, and everyone was busy planning an October wedding.”

  She took a sip of the wine. She wasn’t an expert, but knew this was no twist-top variety. It was smooth and warm.

  “It was as if half of your office suddenly appeared. They were talking wedding gowns and bridesmaids before I got a chance to say anything.”

  She took another sip of wine. “We’ll have to have a public breakup and the sooner the better. They were talking about calling around for tents on Monday. I don’t want any deposits or anything put on things. It’s just throwing money away.”

  “Or...” he said slowly, dragging the word out.

  “Or?” she repeated.

  “Or we could do it.”

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “We could get married.”

  Shell-shocked.

  Donovan studied his newly acquired fiancé and realized that shell-shocked was the only appropriate phrase to describe Sarah’s expression as he said the words.

  When she roused herself to move, she drained her entire glass of wine.

  He felt almost as surprised as she looked when he heard the words come out of his mouth, but as soon as they had, he knew he was on to something.

  He got up and brought the bottle back to the table and as he poured, he said, “There would be advantages to both of us.”

  “You’ve got to be out of your mind.” Sarah took another hefty gulp of wine.

  “No, listen. A fiancée was good, but a wife would be even better for my career. Not just my career. Yours as well. Marrying me would give you entry into a group of people who by their social status are ever so much more inclined to use an interior decorator, so there’s a financial benefit for you.”

  “And I believe there’s a word for women who would take this kind of a step for money.”

  “Smart. That’s the word. After all, for centuries marriages were arranged not for love, but for social and economic reasons.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Not anymore. People have learned that marriage must be based on love if it’s going to work. The rest...well, if you love the other person, you can make
the rest work.”

  “In some places they still arrange marriages for social and economic reasons,” he pointed out. He didn’t say that the last thing he’d ever want was to be tied to a woman he didn’t love any more than she wanted to be tied to a loveless marriage.

  But this wouldn’t be a real marriage, he assured himself. It would just be a temporary sham. A partnership, nothing more.

  “Other countries might still do that sort of thing. But not here. And not me. I think I’m ready to go home now.”

  She started to stand, but Donovan took her hand and pulled her back into her seat. His fingers brushed the ring—his ring—on her hand. An unexpected feeling of...well, something flooded his body. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he did know he liked the way the ring felt on Sarah’s hand.

  She pulled away, as if he had some killer case of childhood cooties. Donovan let it go, satisfied that she was still sitting.

  “Hear me out,” he said. “Neither of us are attached to anyone, so who would we hurt? No one. We’ll sign a prenup. Either of us can ask to dissolve the union with no penalties. What was mine before the wedding remains mine. What was yours, remains yours. We’ll split the living expenses. No one loses anything, and we both gain a lot. It’s perfect. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. A wife will work so much better than a fiancée.”

  “Donovan, I don’t think so.”

  “Why? This wouldn’t be a marriage. Believe it or not, I have plans to marry someday for love. But I’m not in the position to do it now, and neither are you. This isn’t marriage in the traditional sense. It’s more of a partnership. A business partnership. One that will allow both of us to reap the benefits, and then walk away friends when it’s over.”

  “Friends? Is that what we are?” she asked.

  “Not yet, maybe. But we’re friendly, and I think, given time—”

  “And a marriage.”

  “—and a marriage, we could be very good friends.”

  “Donovan, the engagement idea was crazy, but I went along with it because, like you said, I didn’t think it would hurt anyone, and it would help both of us out. But this? What you’re proposing? It’s never going to work.”