That slight smile playing around his mouth tugged at her heart. In each one, she revealed a little bit more and found him gazing at her with adoration.
“This isn’t manufactured.” Charlie showed her the last few where Logan seemed to have been pulled back to reality as he jerked up to find the camera there.
“It’s as if a veil comes down. He’s so different here.” She went back and forth and relived it, the big changes as well as the small ones only she knew. The shutter came down and his smile didn’t reach his eyes any longer.
The remainder of the photos went by in a blur and the last arrived. But Rach couldn’t shake the unguarded photos of him and her.
Comfort? Ease? It wasn’t that easily explained. “Trust,” she whispered. For so many years, she’d trusted him blindly. But now? These images of them said more. Could it be true love on her part? Did she dare believe there were such a thing for herself?
“Go to him.”
Rach swallowed hard. “He’s already gone. It’s too late.”
“Is it?”
***
He didn’t answer his phone.
Looking at the clock, Rach figured he’d ignored her calls. It was well after ten on the East Coast and surely he’d landed by now.
“Girl, what in the world is going on?” Rico yawned, nearly stumbling in to the design room. “A guy’s gotta get his beauty sleep for the ball.”
“I need help,” she said, wincing as she faced Gigi, Dolly, Francie, Evelyn, Peg and him. She tossed aside the phone on the table and shimmied in the low-cut dress, trying to get the top to fit.
“Blame me.” Charlie admitted. “I called the troops. Well, texted the SOS. Paige is on her way.” She made short work nudging Rach to take on the project. “Only the best could make this miracle happen.”
“I’ll say,” Dolly agreed, walking in and staring at her. “Support, for one. What do you say, Gigi?”
“More than that, looks like.”
“Miracle is right.” Rico elbowed Francie. “Is that a neckline or the waist?” He chuckled as it slipped lower.
She caught it just in time. “Both? Come on. Peg, there’s the design on my desk. Can you get it for me? I feel if I move I’ll get a piercing in places no one wants one.”
“Roger that.” She marched over, clutching her clipboard. “Oh la la! Now, is that a dress or what?”
“Let me see,” Rico cried, rushing to her. “OMG! That slit is up to your—”
“Stop! We get it, honey,” Gigi said. “My ears are burning just from the word hanging in the air. I got a grandson. PG everything. Okay?”
He stuck out his tongue at her. “I’ll butter you up in no time.”
“Just like you did for the rest of us?” Evelyn dropped her tote bag and out spilled a stuffed bunny. She rubbed her hands together. “Tell me what I can do.”
“Don’t trip,” Francie said, eyeing the design. “Hmmm…do you think you can create a custom wedding dress like this, Rach?”
“Slit or no slit?” Dolly asked, giggling, as she tucked a piece of fabric near her hip.
“Yikes,” Rach cried, grabbing the top with two hands. “Slippage.”
“Oh, the horror! I think I saw something.” Rico waved a finger in a circle. “Round and pink, maybe.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No. Tell me you didn’t.”
He grimaced and nodded. “My eyes. They’re burning.”
“Quit, will you?” Charlie laughed. “It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last, my friend.”
“Mine? No, no.”
“Ours. Others. Holy moly, for someone who likes boys, he sure does see a lot of girl parts, right, pal?” Peg slapped him on the back.
“Especially at his sleepovers,” Evelyn chimed in, bringing a tray of sewing supplies over. Her foot twisted. She shrieked.
Gigi caught her and set her upright again. “You sure do need a bodyguard, honey. Or get rid of the heels.”
“For shame, Gigi,” Rico chastised her. “A girl and her shoes will never be parted.”
“How does any work get done around here?” Rach asked, looking at them joking and ribbing each other.
“She said the W word.” Rico made a face and cracked her up.
Charlie touched her arm. “Welcome to the family, Rach. Now, as your newly appointed step whatever, take my advice. Men like Logan don’t admit they feel. Anything.”
She gazed longingly at the silent cell phone.
The kisses were play to him. They were a way for him to get something—her cooperation. He had.
And the rest? The pictures didn’t lie, right?
Temporary insanity.
It just had to be. On both their parts.
Chapter 18
Rach shivered as she stepped from the back of the warm limo.
The crisp, cool air kissing her bare shoulders had little to do with her reaction. The silky cape rode low and she tugged it a tad higher. She faced the huge mansion, glowing with lights inside and out with laughter drifting to her.
She stood alone, having skipped the Grans’ car and waited for one of her own. It served two purposes: she didn’t want to hear the lively chatter of the Duchess and the Dame on the ride over and she almost chickened out at the last minute.
Arriving late had its perks.
“Ma’am,” the driver said, tipping his head. “I can escort you to the door.”
Doing a double take, she recognized him. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts when he picked her up and on the ride over she hadn’t paid him any mind until now. “The other day. The airport to the house. Then to—”
“King’s with Mr. Wolfe. Yes. I remember.”
Somehow she hadn’t due to his wearing a hat and his quiet company. “Do you always drive him when he’s in town?” Why are you torturing yourself like this?
“I guess you could say I’m on call.”
“Well, now you’ll have a break since he’s gone.”
He frowned. “Shall I?”
“No, thank you. I can do this.” She said the last more to herself. Her steps were slow and measured and not because of her daring red dress or shoes. Both were made for her and moved with ease.
Anxiety plucked at her nerves. This was her first and only time without Logan propping her up and cheering her on at a big to-do. A hollow ache burst to life. She winced from the pain.
“This is so hard,” she whispered, climbing the stairs. An image of herself with the red robe on in the photo flashed through her mind.
She half chuckled and half snorted.
“My coming out party? When one door closes…and all that jazz?”
Now I’m talking to myself. Thoughts of Logan teasing her about cats or that little scrappy dog tucked in her tote bag rushed back.
When will it stop? When would she not think about him every minute of every day?
***
Her head buzzed with the noise, like bees all around her.
Beautiful gowned women chatted, and diamonds and various jewels adorning their ears, necks, and wrists deserved their own special party. Men debated politics and the stock market, making her cover a yawn.
She hadn’t seen a familiar face in far too long.
Modern music, coming from the ball room, made her recall her earlier introduction to Peg’s husband, rocker Austin Rhoades. Who knew he was the guy she mentioned the first time they’d met?! He and his band were keeping the tunes playing and the couples dancing.
Was it only an hour since she arrived? The Grans mingled and she’d lost track of the names of people she’d been introduced to. Her new friends from King’s had come and gone and were nowhere in sight. Her jaw hurt from all the smiling.
“Good of you to let us do this,” the Colonel said, rocking back and forth on his heels with the infamous Mr. Puddles tucked under his arm. The dog yapped, getting an obligatory pat in response.
“No, thank you. Lovely home.” Chitchat was not her specialty. Give her a TV
and a remote and Rach could find a game in a flat New York minute. She groaned inwardly. New York! Everything reminded her of Logan.
Where was he? What was he doing right now? If he were here, they’d be trading eye rolls across the room and chuckling to themselves. And later, they’d down a drink or two and poke fun at how bored they’d been while catching up on the scores of the day, sharing a slice of pizza.
A wave of longing swept over her and she wanted to double over from it. She blinked away the sting of tears. Logan!
“It took ages, mind you, but the result is stunning. Priscilla did a bang-up job.” He went on about the foyer they were standing in; the grand staircase now had a matching one and it formed a sort of downward horseshoe effect. White marble with glossy black trim gleamed under the sparkling, grand chandelier.
“Impressive.” She meant it; however, she longed to whisk herself away from the glitz and glamor, even if that meant bunking down in a small rectangular space in the Duchess’s guesthouse.
Could she grit her teeth long enough for the heartache to ease? She’d give anything to be alone right now.
“Ah…Colonel,” she interrupted him in the middle of the long description of the renovation. “So sorry. Powder room?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll show you.”
“And miss out on your guests? No, please, stay. Just point me in the right direction.”
Ten minutes later, she’d weaved through the crowd, stopping only once to pay her respects again to Mrs. King-Baxter. “So lovely of you to have me.”
The woman preened. “Only the best.” She looked closely, narrowing her gaze.
“They’re real.” Rach answered without being asked; she’d come upon the question of her eye color far too many times in her life not to know the curious looks.
The woman laughed. “Unique, you must admit.”
“Some say piercing.” That some would be reduced to Logan. Him again?!
“Hmmm…if you insist.”
This time her smile was quick and genuine. The barracuda did not hide her glare.
“What time is your big reveal?” she asked with a definite edge to her voice.
“Let me find Charlie and maybe we can bump it up a bit and not make such a fuss. After all, we want to enjoy your party.”
A well of relief washed over her features, making her look almost normal. “It’s been ghastly trying to live with all this disruption. Frankly, I’m glad it’s over. It’s worth celebrating. Now, off you go; find her and bring her back to me.”
Yes, Your Highness! Rach nearly bowed, but stopped herself. I must tell Logan about this—
Swallowing hard, she moved on numb legs and sought a quiet refuge. Through the rooms filled with people and the hallways jammed with partygoers, Rach pasted on a smile, nodded, and put one foot in front of the other.
A peek in the kitchen revealed Dolly, Marcus, Bruno and company—possibly Dolly’s husband—as he grinned at her, sitting around the table and snacking.
Stepping away, Rach backtracked and bumped into someone. “Ouch! Sorry!” She turned to find a welcome face.
That quick chuckle made her grin. “Where you going, Rach? I gotta introduce you to my brothers.”
“Danny! Hey, stranger. I was just…” She looked around.
He shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re getting like Paige. She must be hiding in some corner around here. Jay’s about to send the Whitfield search party out after her.”
“I never realized I don’t like crowds.” Her lame excuse hung in the air.
“Ah, geez, does that mean you’re not volunteering at football camp this summer?”
“Football? Camp?” Her mind refused to connect to what he was saying.
“You know, Logan and his donation to my brother Jay’s camp. He’d said you’d love to hang out with the kids and play a game.”
Her throat closed up. “Donation.” When? Dawning hit. Logan’s pay for the ad campaign! That’s what Charlie meant.
“You okay? You’re a little pale.”
“Ah…” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Got to…”
“Bathroom? Don’t let me stop you. But promise to come back and meet my brothers.”
His voice faded as her mind hummed with the new information and she fled down the hall. Who are you really, Logan? The wolf? Or an incredible man who hands out big dollars so low-income kids can go to football camp?
She found a ladies’ room.
“Do not go in there!” Evelyn called.
But Rach had already twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. An older man had his pants down and hefted the woman on the counter. “Ah…full moon shot.” She blinked, retreating quickly.
“The futures. I tried to warn you,” Ev said. “Everywhere, I told you.”
“You were right.” She shivered. “I’m never going to get that visual to leave my head.” Bare buns and black knee socks!
“It’s better if you let them finish. That’s what Shane says anyway. There’s another one down that hall I was going to use.” She opened her sparkly clutch and revealed an unopened pregnancy test. “Fingers crossed this is the one.”
“Really, Ev? You think?” She gulped hard. This sweet, funny lady longed for a little one of her own.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m hoping.”
Rach gave her a swift, tight hug. “Good luck.”
“Need it and more. Shane’s here somewhere. We’re going to find out together.” She shooed her away. “Go, I’ll let you know.”
Leaving, she just wanted to rest her mind and stop the constant chatter in her ears.
This would be a good time, if only her best friend were here to share it with her. She’d loved to tell him about the “futures”. He’d get a good laugh from that story.
A wave of loneliness swept over her.
Her chest clutched.
She slipped in to a small room. A study, she thought, as she gently closed the door behind her. Darkness surrounded her and she leaned back. Breathe until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Fat chance!
A rustling noise sounded and stopped. Then a giggle shattered the silence.
“Come on, McGruff.”
“Pixie, do you want to get me arrested by your mother?”
“We could have fun trying.” Her voice lifted on a hopeful note.
He chuckled.
Rach coughed.
They stilled.
“Sorry.” She went to grab the doorknob. “I’ll go now.”
A light snapped on, illuminating the side table and chair where none other than Griffin James sat with a woman, presumably his wife, on his lap.
“Date night,” she explained, and then laughed. “We have a little one at home.”
“You must be Priscilla.” She smiled tightly and nodded to Griffin. “Mr. James.”
“So formal?” she asked. He helped her up and assisted her in smoothing out the wrinkles on her divine frothy green gown. “Your bow tie.” She adjusted it. “Oh, and my lipstick. On you.” Her giggle was infectious as she kissed him again before wiping his lips.
“Pixie, this is Rachael Elizabeth Darling.”
Crossing the room, she greeted Rach with open arms, giving her a warm hug. “I’ve heard so much about you. You got the Rico stamp of approval. And that is saying a lot.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be. The man is nothing but picky.” Griff joined them. “Ladies, back to the party. It’s almost time for the announcement.”
“Spoilsport.” Priscilla stuck out her tongue at him.
He tugged her close and nuzzled her neck. “Later,” he whispered.
Rach watched in part envy and part awe. The Griffin James was actually human.
His wife must have read her mind. “I know. Shocking, isn’t it? He’s all business by day.”
“You can stop now, Pixie.”
“See? He gets all serious and gruff.”
“Who knew?” Rach asked, raising an eyebrow. Was tha
t how Logan was? To others, he was fierce and calculating. To her, he was the guy who listened and bought nearly the entire menu to please her and so many other things.
“Ah, don’t press it, Miss Darling. I am not a pushover, by any means.”
“Gotta keep up his rep, you know.” Priscilla winked at him and ushered Rach out of the room in front of them. “He speaks very highly of your RED line.”
“Really?” They reached a group of King’s employees. “Love the house, by the way.”
“Thanks. My mother, my nightmare client. If I can please her, the rest is a cinch.”
They welcomed Priscilla with open arms and Rach slipped away to find Charlie nearby.
“Hey, look at our newest and brightest. Have you met everyone yet?” Charlie asked.
“Sort of,” she said, smiling. “I’m a little shell-shocked by it all.”
“My husband is over there with his grandparents and their friends.” She waved and the way he smiled and grinned at her made her chuckle. “That man. Makes my heart go pitter-pat.”
Gulping, the lump in her throat grew. Why didn’t love look like temporary insanity on these people? Had Logan and she been wrong?
“No worries about remembering names and faces. Let’s get this over with and you can relax, all right?”
“Good idea.” Because once she had her intro, she could leave for good.
A nod to Griff had him and Priscilla joining them. With Charlie leading the way, Rach watched in admiration as the owner of King’s worked her magic among the crowd.
The sheer volume of people pressed her onward and she hurried to keep up. A ripple of excitement charged the air when Charlie made her way up to the fourth stair, using it as makeshift platform.
Lagging at the bottom and looking up, she watched as Charlie grabbed the mic someone handed her and brought the room to order.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. I can’t tell you how touched we are that we can share this special event with you. First, please give my stepmother, Mrs. King-Baxter and her husband Colonel Baxter, a round of applause for graciously hosting us in their lovely home.”
Clapping erupted and whispers followed. Rach sank back a little, overwhelmed by it all. Minutes ticked by and she could barely keep up with Charlie’s speech.
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