“He said you came to Cancun to reconnect with me, but he’d found you first and made you promise to keep it a secret throughout the reunion. He knew Daisy was coming and thought I might get back together with her if I didn’t know about you.”
Well. Flynn actually had told the truth. That was something new.
Marco put his hands in his pockets. “He shouldn’t have gotten involved. He ought to know I can make my own decisions. Unfortunately, he has a misguided desire to save me from myself.”
“Flynn does seem to worry about you.” What else could Belle say? The whole situation felt so awkward. “I guess it’s a twin thing.”
Marco grinned, looking her up and down as though seeing her differently. “I wish he’d told me the truth earlier. I had no idea you still had feelings for me.”
Still? That meant he knew she had feelings for him back in college. Had he known about her crush before meeting Daisy—and then went after Belle’s roommate anyway? Or was her crush something Daisy told him about later on?
Belle kept her voice light. “You knew I had feelings for you in college?”
He shrugged. “You got all tongue tied around me during study group. It was cute, but Daisy was more my type back then.” His gaze ran over her again. “Things change, don’t they?”
She should have felt complimented. Wasn’t this exactly why she’d come to Cancun—to hear those words? Now she didn’t know how to respond to them.
“You and Flynn.” Marco shook his head and chuckled as though the last few days had been a practical joke. “You two made such a convincing couple. You seemed completely in love. I never would have guessed the truth.”
Her heart squeezed painfully. “Flynn is a good actor.”
“Yeah. I always knew that about him. I just didn’t know it about you.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“We could remedy that. Can you change your flight?” He nodded toward the airport exit. “I’m sure we could find some place to sit and talk for a while.”
Another sentence she’d longed to hear. Funny that it only made her feel sad now. Flynn had ruined all the daydreams she’d had about Marco. Marco wouldn’t make her laugh like Flynn could. Marco’s smile didn’t have the roguish quality that looked so endearing on his brother. If she and Marco talked about her work, he wouldn’t understand that she considered clothing to be art. He’d probably lecture her about sweatshops again and make her feel responsible for the plight of third-world countries. She didn’t want to talk to him. She wanted to go back to New York, curl up in bed, and forget about this trip, forget about her feelings for Flynn.
“I never should have come,” she said. “I was chasing a memory, something that was never real to begin with, and now…” She broke off and tried a different way to explain. “You said I’d changed, and you were right. We’re completely wrong for each other now. Instead of believing everything you say, carte blanche, like I did back then, I have my own opinions. You’re so sure of everything you believe. We’d just end up arguing all of the time.” She shifted her carryon. “Besides, you’re on the rebound from Daisy, and I’m on the rebound from Flynn. Neither of us is thinking clearly.”
“Wait.” Marco cocked his head to the side. “You’re on the rebound from Flynn?”
“Yeah. Turns out I’m not much of an actress after all.” She turned to go, but paused to look over her shoulder at him. “Please, don’t tell him. Spare me that.”
Marco didn’t answer, just watched her go with an astonished expression.
Chapter 25
Flynn spent most of the day in his room, catching up on email, looking over bank documents, and conferring with his lawyer about contract provisions. Anything to avoid thinking about Belle.
Or what Belle and Marco were doing now.
He’d been beyond foolish to let himself develop feelings for her. Anyone else would have known better.
Working on the contract did a poor job of keeping his thoughts on safe ground.
Were Marco and Belle talking right now? Laughing? Kissing?
The contract. Lawyers seemed incapable of writing contracts in clear English. The phrasing was always barely comprehensible legalese that took another lawyer to translate. His mind kept drifting to Belle, and he had to keep forcing it back— painfully—to safe territory.
Work. Contract negotiations. Things he could control.
When he wasn’t on the phone with Bainbridge’s lawyer, Flynn kept his phone turned off. He didn’t want to talk to anyone in his family, wasn’t up to pretending things were fine. He would have skipped dinner, but it was the night of the grandchildren’s talent show, and all of the siblings were supposed to say a few words about their mother.
The family had rented a private area in one of the restaurants, a cozy room with windows overlooking the ocean. He deliberately showed up five minutes late. The less small talk he had to endure, the better. As he walked to the table, his gaze went to Marco, and he half expected to see Belle with him. She wasn’t, of course. Daisy sat beside him, keeping up pretenses.
His mother looked at Flynn, then glanced around the room. “Where’s Belle?”
Two empty chairs waited at the table, both next to his mother. He sat down on one, feeling tense and miserable. “A problem at work came up. She had to leave early.”
His father looked puzzled by this pronouncement. “You mean there was a fashion crisis?”
Flynn scooted his chair closer to the table. “It happens.”
His mother made sympathetic tutting sounds. “Too bad. You’ll be apart for your six-month anniversary. You’ll have to give her the necklace and earrings later.”
He planned to shove the necklace and earrings in a drawer and never look at them again. He couldn’t bear to see the blue topaz that was the same color as Belle’s eyes.
He ordered, ate, and watched his nephews and nieces perform singing numbers. Then it was time for him and his siblings to give birthday tributes to their mother.
Kennedy went first, relating a story of their mother teaching her to ride a bike. “You kept telling me the trick was balance,” she said. “I still hear those words in my mind sometimes. When life gets overwhelming, I remind myself that the trick is balance.”
Next, Paige talked about how their mother used to wait up for her when she was out on dates, and how their mother had always been involved in her life. Marco spoke about how she was always serving in the community and set good example for him.
Then it was Flynn’s turn. He had so many good memories of his mother, but all of them seemed tinged with sadness because he knew that’s what they would be soon—just memories. How many more months did he have left with her?
Flynn stood and related stories of help she’d given him with school work and his Boy Scout projects.
“Mom, you taught me to be a hard worker. Maybe I learned that lesson too well, and I’ve been slow to follow your example in other ways. You also taught me that family and relationships are more important than anything else. I love both you and Dad, and I’ll count myself truly successful in life if I’m ever as happily married as you two.”
Everyone clapped and he sat down by his mother. She patted him on the leg. “Thank you. That was very sweet.”
He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“You miss Belle, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes.” It was the truth.
“I think she’d make a nice addition to the family,” his mother said.
Flynn nodded, refusing to look at Marco to see if his brother had overheard the comment.
Their mother stood, putting a hand on Flynn’s shoulder for support. “I hadn’t planned on saying anything. And I certainly hadn’t planned on saying what I’m about to say. This was to be my last reunion. The cancer will take me sooner or later, so putting this old body through more treatments didn’t make much sense. But this week has made me realize that I still have things to see.” She squeeze
d Flynn’s shoulder. “I want to be at Flynn’s wedding.” Her gaze went to Marco. “And perhaps meet another grandchild.”
She turned to Paige and Kennedy, emotion welling in her voice. “Belle told me that she didn’t have a relationship with her grandparents. That if she didn’t matter to them when she was young and actually needed them, then why would she matter to them now? I don’t want my grandchildren to ever feel like that—that I willingly left them when they were young and still needed me.” Her eyes went over the grandchildren. “So I guess I can fight cancer a little longer.”
She sat down. Their father reached over and hugged her. Everyone began talking, thanking her and offering words of encouragement. Paige and Kennedy both left their spots at the table to hug her, and soon everyone was hugging her and crying, the grandchildren piling into action as well.
Flynn let his siblings have their turns first so that he could be last and hug her the longest. When he did, she felt too thin, but even here in the restaurant, he could smell the scent that was only hers. A mixture of soap, shampoo, and motherhood.
“Don’t make me wait too long for that wedding,” she told him.
He didn’t have an answer for that.
*
When dinner was over and Flynn was making his way back across the lobby, Marco called after him. “Wait up.”
Flynn did, though he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone his brother.
“I called you three times today,” Marco said in exasperation. “Don’t you look at your phone?”
“I’ve been busy with work,” Flynn said.
“Right.” Marco clearly didn’t buy that excuse.
Might as well get the moment over with. Flynn kept his voice low so passing guests wouldn’t hear them talk. “So how did things go with Belle?” He wanted to know, but at the same time dreaded hearing his brother talk about her.
“Not how I expected.”
That wasn’t the answer Flynn had braced himself for. He finally gave his brother his full attention.
Marco was scrutinizing him. “What exactly did you do to her?”
“Do to her? What do you mean?”
Marco shrugged. “Apparently a few days with you canceled out everything she’d felt for me for years.” He lifted his hand in a questioning gesture. “I’m just wondering how you managed that.”
Had he understood that right? “Wait, she turned you down?”
“Turned me down flat. And then she went on to call me opinionated. I’ll blame that shift of opinion on you too.”
“She turned you down,” Flynn said again.
Was Belle angry at both of them, or maybe at men in general? It didn’t matter. As long as she didn’t want Marco, Flynn had a second chance.
Marco smiled, enjoying Flynn’s shock. “She told me not to tell you, but she pretty much admitted to being in love with you.” Marco patted him on the shoulder. “You either way overplayed your part or you need to go after that girl.”
Chapter 26
The weekend dragged by. New York was cold, gray, and slushy. All of the trees across from Belle’s apartment building looked dead, and even her brightly colored bedroom seemed lifeless and dismal. She missed Cancun’s green. She missed Flynn. Which was ridiculous because he’d never been hers to begin with. He’d only been pretending to care about her.
She’d heard that everything happened for a reason, and even bad experiences made for good learning opportunities. She tried to tell herself she’d learned important things from the last week: for example, she wanted a family someday, and since that was the case, her job shouldn’t be such an all-consuming priority. She would work hard and enjoy the creativity, but she wouldn’t let it take all of her time anymore.
She’d learned not to idolize past crushes.
And she’d learned that she had a thing for guys with light brown hair and blue eyes. In fact, she fell really hard and really fast for that type.
For most of the weekend, Belle wrapped herself in a worn comforter and listlessly watched Netflix while crying and eating ice cream.
On Monday, instead of going into the office at seven like she usually did, she slept in and dragged herself in at eight-fifteen. Let Felix complain. If he did, she’d point out all of the sixty-hour weeks she’d worked in the past. She hadn’t slept much since returning to New York, and already needed another vacation. Well, not exactly a vacation; more like another long crying jag and a quart of rocky road.
Sebastien was sitting on the desk of Saanvi, the receptionist, talking with her in lowered tones. As Belle passed, Saanvi called to her, “The new boss wants to see you. He’s in Felix’s office.”
Belle stopped where she stood. “New boss?”
“Unofficially. The deal isn’t final,” Saanvi said. “But you’d never know it by the way he’s acting.”
Sebastien nodded in agreement. “The man is far too confident for someone who knows nothing about the fashion industry. I don’t like him.”
No. It couldn’t be Flynn. Not after she’d turned Marco down. Flynn had no reason to buy Fontaine anymore.
Belle made her way down the hallway to Felix’s office, trying to crush the hopeful inklings that pressed against her chest. Flynn wasn’t here. It was the other buyer Felix had told her about. In all likelihood, someone with ridiculous ideas about how the company should be run, completely unrealistic expectations, and half a dozen meetings scheduled to discuss his vision of Fontaine’s future.
She didn’t have the energy to deal with more drama right now. Not when she still felt weepy and emotional about Flynn. Somehow she’d imagined that any sale and transition wouldn’t happen for months, if at all. And now she had a new boss? Man, she’d picked the wrong day to come in late.
Belle reached Felix’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he said in the overly energetic voice he used to impress customers.
She pushed the door open. Flynn stood in the room near the window. Flynn. Tall, handsome, and ever so confident.
She caught her breath, surprised, unsure. He’d bought Fontaine anyway? Why? Had it simply been a good bargain, or was there some other reason?
His eyes went over her, and his lips quirked up at the corners into a cautious smile.
She swallowed, stunned, and couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore a crisp black suit and a white shirt, looking more like a men’s suit model than a corporate exec.
He turned to Felix. “Thank you, Mr. Cohen. If you could give me a few minutes alone with our new senior designer, I’d appreciate it.”
So he was giving her the promotion after all. Maybe he felt he had to. Maybe he thought he owed it to her after she’d turned Marco down. Belle put her hands behind her back, clasping them so they didn’t tremble. She didn’t want Flynn to know how much his presence affected her.
“Certainly,” Felix said.
As he left, Belle noticed a large aquarium sat on Felix’s desk. Instead of fish, it held sand, a heat lamp, a branch of some sort and…
What was that green thing?
Flynn waited until Felix had shut the door before he spoke. “You said the iguana was optional, but I didn’t want to risk it.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her eyes went to Flynn’s, trying to figure him out. “Why did you buy Fontaine?”
He shrugged as though buying a fashion house was a run-of-the-mill purchase. “Bainbridge needs to diversify, the fashion industry is a three trillion-dollar business, and setting up an education fund for factory workers in Bangladesh is a good tax write-off.” His blue eyes looked intense, serious. “But the most important reason is that you work here.”
She let herself hope then, just a little. And then reminded herself that Flynn had said she had good business sense. Maybe he was just asking for her help running the place.
“And you called me in to…”
“To apologize. With a lizard. I admit it’s not my usual medium. That’s why I also brought flowers. And candy.” He m
otioned to the back corner of the room, where a bouquet of red roses and gold box of chocolates had blended into the clutter of Felix’s fabric swatches and inspiration boards.
Flynn walked slowly toward her, watching her reaction. For the first time since meeting him in the lobby of the hotel, he looked vulnerable and uncertain. “Look, Belle, I’m sorry I lied to you and kept you away from Marco.”
“You are?” She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that.
“Well, not really. I mean, yes, I’m sorry for lying about who I was, but I’m not sorry about keeping you away from Marco. That part I’d do again.” His voice went soft, his eyes asking her to understand. “I had to keep you away from him because I wanted you so badly for myself.”
Was he giving her an apology for how he’d acted? Or was he telling her that he wanted more, a future?
He stepped closer, his gaze steady on her. “Despite all of the conspiring and half-truths, when I was with you, when I was kissing you—it was never an act for me.”
Their first kiss must have been an act. He’d accused her of being after Marco’s money later that night. But then, he also admitted that he hadn’t planned on kissing her that first night. He just hadn’t been able to resist her.
She eyed him, still trying to read him, understand him. “So you’ve come here with flowers and candy…”
“And a promotion.”
“And all is supposed to be forgiven?”
He gestured to the aquarium. “I also brought an iguana.”
She laughed in spite of herself. He sounded so sincere. “Oh, well, that changes everything.”
He held up a hand as though making a pledge. “None of what I said or did with you was an act. I wasn’t ever trying to get rid of you.” He took a step closer. “I was trying to keep you.”
She tilted her head in question. “Really? When did you decide you…wanted to keep me?”
“The day we went snorkeling.” A teasing smile played across his lips and he rubbed his chin, considering. “Or maybe before that. It might have been that first night when I researched you and saw that picture of you in the sequined dress.”
How I Met Your Brother (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 20