A Tangled Web (A Books We Love Erotic Romance)

by Summer Jordan

  “Dior is the baby’s father.” She sighed. “Mama never met him, but she heard me talk about him and assumed he was the man I was going to marry. So, when you and I made plans, I told her Dior was your nickname. I’m sorry. I assure you the wedding invitations have ‘Derek’ on them.”

  The invitations. He knew they’d been sent, but suddenly the nightmare was becoming all too real. “Dior? Is he French?”

  “His mother is a designer and loves everything French, he says. But I never met her or his father. Dior is Scandinavian and blond, so we’ll have to hope the baby looks like me.”

  Derek had a sick feeling thinking how foolish he’d look carrying around a blond, blue-eyed baby. He felt even more nauseous thinking how casually he and Angel were discussing this unborn child.

  He had to set things straight now.

  But Angel bubbled on. “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she said. “The minister is ill and called to cancel our session. He said he’d counsel us after we’re married. I didn’t want us to spend the afternoon with my mother and dad, so I didn’t tell them. After we get our marriage license, we can just go somewhere we can be together and talk about…things.”

  “We should probably talk first.” He had a lot to say and was growing more uneasy by the minute. The longer he waited, the harder it was going to be.

  “Didn’t you hear me say that the office closes at noon? First things, first.” Patting his arm, she began giving him directions to the county recorder’s office which turned out to be quite a ways.

  “Things are moving right along,” Angel said as they were getting out of the car. “Just think. One week from today, we’ll say our vows.”

  “Angel,” he began. He paused on the kerb. He had to stop this now.

  “Come on, we’ve got to hurry. They’ll be closing soon.” Her voice took on a note of panic. “If we don’t get the licence—” She broke off, tears filling her eyes.

  What would she do if he told her, right now, he wasn’t going through with it? He looked at her unnaturally pale face, the brilliant flush on her cheeks, the moisture that brimmed in her desperate eyes. No, not now. She was too emotionally fragile. He’d find a better time to break it to her.

  Derek’s hand shook as he signed his name. It was just a license, not a court order, he told himself, but he didn’t feel comfortable. He should have told her… Well, he would just as soon as he could get her calmed down a bit.

  Angel, after adding her signature, smiled up at him adoringly—or so it seemed—and he ran his finger around his collar. The office was air-conditioned but he could feel perspiration wetting his shirt. He’d hoped she was having second thoughts the same as he was.

  “Where shall we go to talk?” he asked as they stepped out into the sunshine again. “How about going somewhere we can get something to drink? And eat?” Scotch was what he needed and she probably needed food.

  “Let’s head back to White Grove,” Angel said, “and get something there. I’ve reserved a block of rooms for members of the wedding party at the Palmer Hotel, and I’d like to see what you think of the accommodations.”

  “Everything is all set for the wedding? You’re not sorry you’re marrying me?” he asked as they drove. “I’m not the greatest catch, you know.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m very glad you proposed to me,” she said. “Three blocks ahead, turn right,” she added when they reached town. “Most out-of-town guests will stay Friday and, or, Saturday. We have relatives coming from the east coast and some of Dad’s friends from Iowa. Since you won’t bunk at our house, I booked you a room for the week, hoping you’d be between jobs and eager to hang around.” She squeezed his arm.

  People flying in from all over the place. Rooms booked at a hotel. This was a nightmare. “The whole week? I just moved back in my house and have things to do.” He had to get out of here and go back to Erin. He couldn’t go through with this charade, but the situation was getting stickier by the minute. Why did I let us get that damned licence? I should have just told her, but she looks so ill…

  “This is a once-in-a-lifetime event and there are lots of little things I’ll need you to do here. Please, Derek. Stay. I paid for the room in advance because I wanted you around and I didn’t want it to be at your expense. Of course if you don’t like it…” She stuck out her lower lip. “At least take a look at the room and see if it’s satisfactory.”

  Nothing like putting a guy on the spot. Sighing, he agreed, and while he was parking his car in the hotel lot, she got him a room key. “I’m sure it’s fine,” he said when she handed it to him, “but why don’t you go on in the lounge and get us a table while I dash up and take a look?”

  He had no intention of spending a single night longer than he had to, but he’d explain that to her when he had her sitting down somewhere quiet. And after she’d eaten something.

  She took hold of his arm. “I’d rather ride up in the elevator with you. I don’t feel like being left alone.”

  The hand on his arm trembled, and her comment reinforced his uneasiness about her emotional state. Best get her somewhere away from people where she can relax and unwind for a bit. He nodded and they rode up together.

  Inside the room, Angel curled up in one of the two overstuffed chairs. Confused, Derek took a seat in the other. A lamp table stood between them and he pushed the light out of the way and turned his chair so they could see one another better. She looked pale and thin. The ring he’d given her had twisted to one side, obviously loose on her finger.

  “Why don’t we order something from room service?” she asked. “We can talk here. I’d love a diet soda.”

  He frowned. “You look as if you’ve lost weight. How about a milkshake instead? You’re supposed to be eating for two, you know.”

  She half-smiled. “That sounds good. I believe I could manage to drink a vanilla shake. I feel so much better now that you’re here.”

  “Have you been suffering from morning sickness?” The words felt uncomfortable on Derek’s tongue. This conversation seemed so foreign. Sitting in a hotel room with a woman who had become almost a stranger, discussing personal matters, he felt as if he were observing the scene instead of taking part in it.

  “Fortunately, no. I just don’t have any appetite, which is a good thing because I don’t want to gain weight before the wedding. A baby bump in a wedding gown?” She shuddered. “But I don’t suppose one milkshake will hurt.”

  “Why don’t you have something to eat with it? How about a cheeseburger? I remember you always loved burgers with catsup and pickles.”

  She raised her eyebrows but otherwise remained expressionless. “I’m surprised you recall that. But no thanks, I don’t want anything.”

  Angel was usually smiley and sweet to the point of being gushy, but the only time she’d acted happy today was when they’d signed for their marriage license. Was she still ticked over the way he’d treated her at Rendezvous, or was there something else on her mind? He tried a bit of teasing, hoping to snap her out of her mood. “How much do you remember about me? What’s my favourite sandwich?”

  “Toasted cheese,” she said without hesitation.

  “You must have me mixed up with someone else.”

  Angel turned white. “I…I’m sorry. I—”

  “That was his favourite, wasn’t it? Never mind.”

  He picked up the hotel phone and called room service. “I’d like a vanilla milkshake, a scotch on the rocks and a BLT delivered to Room 303, please.”

  “Bacon, lettuce and tomato. I should have remembered, but my second guess would have been a Reuben.” Angel sounded sad.

  Maybe she didn’t want to marry him any more than he wanted to marry her. “Angel, are you still in love with Dior?” Derek’s heart pounded and perspiration broke out on his forehead as he waited for her answer. Please say yes. I need you to say yes. Otherwise…

  “If I did, would I be marrying you? Now,” she said, and her hand
that rested on the arm of the chair trembled more than ever, “let’s talk about the wedding. And our honeymoon.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her now. Though she’d probably begin to catch on from the reluctance of his responses. He couldn’t put it off much longer though. As soon as she’s a little stronger, he promised himself.

  *

  “Remember, Derek,” Angel whispered into his ear as they entered the restaurant her parents had chosen. “Mama and Papa don’t know I’m pregnant. So don’t give it away.”

  Derek was sunk. He’d tried being evasive. He’d tried asking her more than once if she was sure she wanted to go through with marrying him. The first time she’d assured him she wanted nothing more than to be his wife. The time after that, sounding more desperate, she’d told him she wouldn’t be able to cope without his support. The third time, tears in her eyes, she’d exclaimed she’d rather be dead than face the future without him at her side. When she’d greeted with hysterical revulsion his suggestion that she see a therapist, he’d backed off, realising she was approaching a complete breakdown.

  I’m lost, he realised in a stunned haze. He was about to become a husband and father and was unable to save himself. And it was his own fault because he’d proposed to her. Only a real bastard would desert her in the shape she was in. If he tried, it would destroy her completely. Especially at this late date when all the preparations for the marriage were in motion, gaining more momentum minute by minute. The wedding was like a tidal wave and he was in its direct path, unable to run either way. Everything was in place and his head swam with details. He still hadn’t made honeymoon reservations but he’d found himself promising to take care of that on Monday. Angel had given him a list of places she’d like to go. He was supposed to choose one and surprise her.

  The wind had shifted and instead of saying goodbye to her, he was being forced to break up with Erin. As soon as he could get some time to himself, he’d go back and tell her the truth.

  “Derek? Were you listening?”

  Her voice brought him back to this present problem. “Angel, I told you what I think about that. They’re going to find out sometime, and it’s better now than later.”

  “Trust me. It’s better this way. Mama suspects. Actually, I think she knows but she’d rather pretend she doesn’t. There they are, already seated.” She pointed to a table with a white cloth and a ‘Reserved for Fairchild’ placard.

  “Good evening, Dior,” Julia said, holding up a hand as they approached.

  “Good evening.” Derek squeezed it and hoped she wasn’t expecting him to kiss it.

  Walter nodded and Derek returned the gesture as he pulled out Angel’s chair for her. Seating himself, he cast a nervous glance at her before speaking. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer you call me ‘Derek’. ‘Dior’ is a nickname I’m trying to shed.”

  “Of course, if you prefer…” Julia sat back in her chair and fingered the strand of pearls at the neckline of her blue and white print dress. “However, Angel spoke so often of ‘Dior’ that I may find it difficult at first. The first I heard the name ‘Derek’ was when she showed me a wedding invitation.”

  Derek cleared his throat but was saved from replying by the appearance of their server. Walter wore a frown that made Derek wonder if he was a tight-ass and didn’t like shelling out the money for a restaurant meal. He thought he’d made it clear to Angel that he was taking them to dinner, but she might not have understood or else failed to pass on the information.

  “Tonight’s my treat,” Derek said, as the young man poised a pen over an order pad. Since he planned on paying, he might as well relieve the old guy right away. “Everything is on me.”

  Angel and her mother ordered iced tea, with Julia telling their server he could take their wine glasses away. “I might want wine with dinner, so leave mine,” Derek said. “Right now, I’d like a scotch on the rocks. How about you, Mr. Fairchild?”

  Looking happier, Angel’s father ordered a twenty-two ounce draught beer. “I don’t drink wine but I might have ale with dinner,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Derek, you can call me Walt.”

  The drinks arrived and Walt, after taking a long draught of his, tapped Angel on the hand. “What’s wrong with you, missy? I thought you liked those fancy Cosmopolitans.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and before Angel could reply, Julia said, “She’s watching her calories until after the wedding, Walter. Let her alone and let’s talk about the arrangements.”

  ‘Arrangements’ made Derek think of a funeral and seemed an apt word for the ceremony that was ending the life he wanted. He’d already heard everything this afternoon that he wanted to hear and now he would have to hear it all again.

  “When’s Erin arriving, Angel?” her mother asked.

  “Erin?” Derek choked on his scotch. It couldn’t be. Not his Erin. Of course it wasn’t. “Who’s she?”

  His fiancée pounded him on the back. “That will teach you not to gulp. You’re supposed to sip scotch,” she said.

  His face burned as he shot back, “I believe, as a bartender, I know how to partake of drinks as well as prepare them, and I wasn’t gulping. It just went down the wrong way.”

  “You’re a bartender?” Julia squealed. “Angel said you were a lawyer.”

  Derek didn’t like the panic in her voice. “I have been working behind the bar at a dinner club recently. I hope you don’t find anything wrong with that.”

  Angel kicked him under the table. “It was a temporary stint,” she said. “Isn’t that right, Derek?”

  He longed to deny it, just to see what his future motherin-law would say. “Yes, I am an attorney.”

  “Oh, thank heavens. My side of the family doesn’t drink and they’d be horrified if Angel married a bartender. My parents are teetotallers and my brother is a pastor. I wanted him to officiate at the wedding but Angel objected.” Julia assumed a ‘woe-is-me’ pose.

  “He’s a lay minister, Mama. He never attended seminary and anyway, he’s a hell-and-brimstone preacher.”

  “Then I’ll bet he’s one of those out of date enough to include the ‘love and obey’ clause. Right, Angel?” Derek asked, raising a brow while smothering a grin. He was having fun with this, and it was about time he found something to smile about. Julia’s mother was too prissy for her own good.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Julia demanded.

  “Do you obey Daddy?” Angel turned her hands upwards.

  “Of course, she doesn’t,” Walt said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Derek’s mom and dad squabbled sometimes, but he stayed out of it. All the Fairchilds argued, and he was going to have to get used to it since he had to become part of the family. Great. Derek motioned the server over. “Another scotch on the rocks and…” He looked to Walt.

  “Make that two. I’ve never drank scotch, Derek, but I’m game tonight. And to answer your question, however long ago you asked it, Erin is Angel’s cousin. Her mother, Barbara, and Julia are sisters,” Walt said, poising his fork and steak knife over his New York strip.

  Angel pasted a smile on her face that Derek found almost scary. “Erin is my attendant,” she said. “We’ve been close since we were kids. You’ll meet her at the rehearsal Friday night and she’ll be staying at the hotel where you are.”

  Even though he didn’t want to know, Derek had to ask. “What is your cousin’s last name, Angel?” Erin could be assigned the room next to—or across from—him, and he wasn’t sure he could bear it…if it was his Erin. It couldn’t possibly be, of course. It was ridiculous to even think it.

  Angel shrugged. “What does it matter? I’m sure you’ve never met her.” Another mood change, she sounded cranky enough to make Walt plunk down his knife.

  “Take it easy, missy. Your future husband asked a simple question. Don’t bite his head off.”

  “Dad, Erin lives in a swanky uptown area in a house that res
embles a mansion. So I doubt she’d frequent a bar like Club Rendezvous, and how else would Derek know her?”

  “That’s no reason to give him a smart-mouthed answer.”

  “Walt, don’t be so hard on Angel.” Julia touched her husband’s hand. “She’s overwrought with the wedding coming up.”

  “Okay, but I don’t see why she’s making a big fuss over nothing.” He turned to Derek. “Erin’s maiden name was O’Brien, but she’s divorced and still goes by her married name, Erin Fox.”

  *

  Erin sat across from her son, watching him dig into the maple syrup-drenched pancakes she’d made and dip his bacon into the sweet liquid. She rose and refilled his milk glass and sat down again to sip her coffee and pick at the pancake on her plate. She had gotten very little sleep. Lying awake, she’d gone over and over what might have caused Derek to suddenly leave for an entire weekend.

  Was he trying to break up with her? Could he be afraid he was falling in love with her? Was she too affectionate? Maybe her love for him came across so strongly that he’d panicked. Remembering what she’d whispered during their last bout of sex, she pressed a hand to her chest to still the rapid beating of her heart. I love you. She should never have said those words. Derek had warned her he might be a one-night stand, and that was probably what he’d meant. ‘If you fall in love with me, I’m out of here.’

  She had passed off her tears as those of joy when Joe arrived the night before. They’d actually been a mixture of disappointment when she found it wasn’t Derek at the door and shame that she wasn’t more excited to see her boy. She thought she’d misjudged the date for his return until Joseph explained he’d planned to keep him for the weekend but Joe was eager to see his mother. It was a joy to hold him close again and she was touched that he’d missed her.

  She scooted Joseph out the door after a brief exchange, unable and unwilling to cope with him. She knew he wanted to stay and rehash their trip, but she’d rather hear about it from Joey…Joe. Besides, Joseph would key in on her mood immediately. After years of marriage, he knew when she was stewing about something.