by Karina Bliss
She didn’t have to deal with him again until Wednesday.
She hadn’t heard from him since he’d left Whangarei, and was beginning to regret asking for a “no contact” few days.
“Says he hasn’t got an appointment but figures you’ll see him.” Margie glanced at her note. “Ross Coltrane.”
Jules swallowed. It had been thirty-six hours since Claire told her the guys knew she’d lied to them and until now she hadn’t heard a peep from any of them. And the two reactions she dreaded most were Lee’s sister, Connie’s—and Ross Coltrane’s. Black and white were the only shades in Connie’s moral palette, and Ice didn’t suffer fools.
“Show him in,” she said. On the bright side, she had no spirit left to crush.
Margie grinned. “If he’s single, put in a good word for me.”
“Sorry, he’s getting married in less than three weeks.” And was probably here to rescind her wedding invitation. She removed Lee’s ring—no point rubbing salt into the wound—and hid it in the desk drawer.
“Corner office,” she heard Margie say cheerfully. Bracing herself, Jules stood. Lot of good it would do her. Ice was six-two.
Ross limped in, still exuding a lethal grace. Without even glancing in her direction, he selected a chair and sat down.
“Welcome,” she said superfluously. Feeling awkward, she also sat.
Casually, Ice assessed his surroundings—the big desk, the Mac, her view of the park across the road through the third-story window. “So are you really this important,” he asked, “or have you just borrowed this office to impress me?”
As his laser gaze swung toward her, Jules braced herself for the full glare of his accusation. There it was. Where was an SPF50 sunscreen when a girl needed it? “I’m sorry,” she said simply.
“You bullshit your friends for nineteen months.”
She raised her hands. “I have no excuses.”
“Lee found some for you...said you wanted to save us more grief. Who needs to hear one of their best friends died with a broken heart? The fact that he’s now living with a broken heart could lead to a robust discussion, but I don’t have time to debate who wronged who the most. I have a wedding crisis.” He added with a glitter in his gray eyes, “Fortunately, it’s come at a time when you’re predisposed to grovel to your friends.”
She stared at him. “You’re not concerned about what’s happened between Lee and me?”
“Of course I am,” he snapped, “but to paraphrase Bogart, the problems of two little people don’t amount to a hill of beans compared to this crazy wedding.”
“It was three little people,” she corrected, unsure how to feel about this conversation. “And Bogie was referencing world problems not wedding problems.”
“This wedding means the world to me. And to be blunt, I don’t want you two ruining it. Not that I think either of you would do it deliberately—hell, I can appreciate that you’re both trying to get through this like grown-ups—but it’s a difficult time for me, too. Everything that can go wrong is going wrong, including you two imploding a few weeks out.”
He paused, never taking his eyes off her. “My bride is arriving in the country a scant six hours before the ceremony and Jo tells me now she can’t be a bridesmaid because she’s likely to throw up through the service. Everyone else gets morning sickness, but Swannie has to be different.”
“Actually, afternoon sickness is quite—”
“I’ve got three groomsmen and only two bridesmaids. Viv’s sister and Claire. You and Jo are the same height.”
“But Viv and I aren’t close.” The costume designer had lived in New York for the past ten years; all their encounters had been in a group.
“Then she should be here to organize her own damn wedding instead of checking Johnny Depp’s inside leg measurement. Look—” he leaned forward impatiently “—I know it’s awkward but I figured since you broke it off you’re less affected—”
“I’m not unaffected,” she said. “I still have feelings for him but—”
“But you have irreconcilable differences. Yeah, Lee said. Whether he eventually talks you into giving him another shot is his problem. I want to know if you’ll help me with mine.”
Jules sat back. “Ross, you’re not fooling me.”
“I bow to your superior expertise in bullshitting people.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Now, what the hell are you talking about?” he added impatiently.
“You’re...you’re engineering a situation where we’re forced to continue this engagement for an extra week.” At the back of her mind Jules had a private escape clause. If continued proximity got too hard, she could still put an end to it.
“Because I’m such an incurable romantic? Not everyone complicates his life the way you do, Jules. I’m not asking some stranger to be part of my wedding party, and Viv has approved you. You say you’re sorry for lying to me.” He folded his arms. “Prove it.”
Jules started to doubt her instincts. But this was too damn convenient.
“No offense,” she said. “But I need to corroborate your story.” She punched in Jo’s cell.
“I’m deeply hurt by your distrust.”
Ignoring him, she swung her chair toward the window. “Jo? It’s Jules.”
“Jules...hang on...I’m in an editorial meeting.”
The sound grew quieter as Jo obviously went in search of privacy. “How are you doing? I’ve been meaning to call but I wasn’t sure if you were ready for a heart-to-heart.”
Her throat tightened. “I’m not...but...let me apologize for deceiving everybody.”
“Dan’s got mixed feelings, but I think the truth would have made everything worse. You were all in a bad way.”
“I guess we were,” she said slowly. “Listen, I’ve got Ross here and—”
“Oh, good, he’s asked you. Honest to God, the way he reacted you’d think I was nauseous on purpose. I’m really disappointed that I can’t be part of the wedding party. But I’m like Mt. Vesuvius around two in the afternoon. And all kinds of scents set me off. I just can’t risk it. I think our Iceman is in the midst of a global warming crisis so any help you can give him is appreciated.”
“I’ll think about it. And thanks...for forgiving me.”
“I guess it’s pointless asking you to pay it forward?”
“Best get back to your meeting.”
Jo sighed. “That’s what I thought. Bye.”
“Bye.”
“Well?” Ross demanded.
Jules got up and crossed to the wall cabinet, where she poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher.
“If it helps,” he said, “I’m not impressed by Lee’s tactics, either. The two of you deserve each other.”
“Cut the bluster, Ice, and think this through. Should I even go to your wedding? I don’t want to make things awkward for everybody.”
“Jules, you’ve already made things awkward,” he said drily. “Decide whether you’re going to make them impossible.”
“An elaborate scheme to try to get us back together won’t work.” She eyeballed him. “And you’re only hurting Lee more if you’re offering him false hope.”
Ross returned a bland look. “Lee can take care of himself. Come to think of it, wasn’t that why you dumped him? But let me double-check...” He pulled out his cell.
Jules spilled her water. “That’s not necess—”
He held up a hand. “Lee, it’s me. Jule
s will do it as long as you don’t read it as encouragement.... Uh-huh...yep...I’ll tell her.” Ross cut the connection. “He said he’s got the message loud and clear.”
“Well, good.”
“So are you going to help me make Viv Jansen the happiest woman in the world or what?”
“I can’t drag this out, Ice.” The words surrendered themselves. “It hurts too much.”
Ross was silent a moment. “How many female friends do I have, Jules? I’ll tell you,” he said, not waiting for a reply. “Three. You, Claire and Jo. You’re part of a very select group. Too select. I can’t drop you until I find a replacement.” He might have been joking; with Ice you never could tell. “If you repeat what I’m about to say I’ll have to kill you. I’m scared shitless about getting this wedding right. You think I’d drive all the way up here—a four-hour round trip—otherwise?”
She had never, ever heard him admit to a weakness. Ever.
Jules sighed. “Where’s the bloody dress?”
“Beacon Bay.” Giving her a cherubic smile, he stood. “Jo will courier it up and my wedding planner will email you about a local fitting.”
“I thought you were the wedding planner.” She was already regretting this.
Ross limped to the door. “Viv’s been coordinating the outfits from New York. The only expertise I have in dresses is taking them off and I’m keeping it that way.” He paused before leaving, a rare warmth in his gray eyes. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
Jules’s resolve melted. “You’re wel—”
“And get some sleep, a little sun. I need you looking good for the photos.”
And he was gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“WELL, THAT WENT well,” Lee murmured to his brother as they stood around the barbecue at their sister’s house, staring at the sizzling meat.
Through the kitchen window, they could hear the angry chopping of a cucumber meeting its death interspersed with their brother-in-law’s soothing tones.
Rob shrugged and picked up Phil’s abandoned tongs. “You know Connie, she hates the idea she’s been made a fool of.” He turned the steaks before they’d seared, and Lee resisted the urge to confiscate the tongs. After Connie’s reaction to Jules’s so-called betrayal he couldn’t afford to alienate a possible ally. “She’ll be over it by the next Ice Age,” Rob said cheerfully.
“Yeah,” Lee replied glumly. “She does like to hold a grudge.” She still brought up how much he’d embarrassed her with his burping rendition of “Happy Birthday” at her twenty-first. He’d been eight, for heaven’s sake.
“Before I forget, with all this drama.” Still clutching the tongs, Rob ducked inside the open French doors to the living room and returned with a plastic bag. He handed it over, slightly embarrassed. “A present.”
Lee opened the bag and saw a couple of DVDs.
“Your porno collection?”
Rob frowned. “It’s Dad’s funeral and your memorial service...I said I’d make copies for you.”
Now they were both embarrassed. “Right. Thanks.” He closed the bag carefully. “I’m not sure if I—”
“Dad’s might be hard viewing right now, but you should check out your memorial service. How many people get the chance to attend their own funeral? And we all said nice things about you.”
It clearly meant something to Rob so Lee stopped arguing. “Thanks.” Then he added curiously, “Did Jules speak?”
“Couldn’t.” His brother returned to mismanaging the barbecue. “And even if she’d wanted to, she had her hands full comforting her mother.”
Lee recalled Jo’s previous comments. “I never met her mother.”
“Not that you’d have guessed it at your service,” Rob said drily.
Their brother-in-law came back out, carrying a green salad, saw Rob turning the steaks again and winced. Plunking the bowl on the outdoor table, he firmly retrieved the tongs. “Thanks, mate, I’ll take it from here.”
Behind Rob’s back, Phil rolled his eyes. Lee responded by refilling everyone’s wineglass with more of the expensive cabernet sauvignon he’d bought to facilitate their forgiveness.
“You once mentioned that Jules was very good to Dad,” he said casually to Rob. His brother hadn’t voiced his opinion about her betrayal yet. Connie hadn’t given him a chance to.
“Yes, she was.” Rob raised his glass to the light to admire the color. “Jules was worth her weight in gold when Dad sank into depression.”
“Dad was depressed?”
His brother just looked at him.
“Right,” Lee said, “my horrible death.” Until his rescue, he’d assumed his family believed he was alive. He hadn’t known about the body swap. Or imagined why his fingertip had been cut off.
“I hope you’re not discussing Jules without me,” Connie hollered from the kitchen.
Lee lowered his voice. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
Rob inhaled the bouquet of his replenished wine. “With me it does.”
Lee glanced at to his brother-in-law and raised an eyebrow.
Phil shrugged. “I’ve always liked—”
“Don’t go thinking you can divide and rule, Lee Davis.” Connie bustled out with a bowl of potato salad and garlic bread. “And it doesn’t matter how fond we were of Jules,” she said to her husband, as she shunted the green salad aside to make room on the table. “Or how remorseful she may be. She let us down and she’s still letting my baby brother down.”
“C’mon, Con. Her motives stack up way better than mine.”
“Defend her all you like, you won’t change my mind. Boys!” She waved her arms at the pool where her three sons were playing a noisy game of water polo, oblivious to the drama. One made the mistake of looking up and she gestured for them to get out and get dressed.
“Aw!”
Lee turned to Phil, who was piling the steaks on a platter. “I love your new house. Did Jules do your legal work?”
“No, she did not.” His wife answered for him.
Phil passed her the platter of meat. “But she did give us plenty of free advice, honey,” he reminded her.
Appearing not to hear him, Connie found a place for it on the table and then waved at the boys, who’d resumed their game. “Now!”
Lee sat opposite Rob. “I’m guessing she helped Dad when he was checking out retirement homes, too.”
“She checked out all the contracts.” His brother inspected the steaks and chose one that was well cooked. “Didn’t charge him a bean.”
“I know what you’re doing, Lee,” Connie said impatiently, passing him the garlic bread. “You’re trying to even the balance sheet, but the fact remains she lied to us. For nineteen months.”
“Which makes forgiveness very difficult,” he conceded, taking a couple of buttery rounds. Connie prided herself on her acuity.
“Almost impossible. Boys, don’t make me come over there!”
“How lucky you’ve got Sunday sermons to remind you how it’s done then.” He helped himself to potato salad. There was a long pause during which both Rob and Phil concentrated on serving themselves food.
“That,” Connie said with dignity, “is not fair.” His sister was a stalwart of her local church.
He passed her the potato salad. “The Bible does say ‘turn the other cheek.’”
“It also says ‘an eye for an eye’ and, as a practicing Christian, I can quote Bible verses a lot longer than you can, little brother.”
“If the press get hold of it, I’ll revert to Plan A, which is saying I dumped her. On national television,” he added. Connie would hate that: him looking like the bad guy. “Because I forgive her, even if you can’t.”
His sister sniffed. “I suppose since you’re still pretending to be engaged, she has to come to the family reunion.”
“And Mikey’s birthday party. I want to leave the kids out of this.”
Frowning, Connie picked up her wineglass. “She’s getting away with it, Lee. It’s not fair.”
“Please,” he said. “For me.”
Her mouth tightened in a straight line. “I won’t tell the family, I won’t tell the kids. I’ll button my mouth for your sake.”
It was the best he could hope for.
* * *
THE CADDY’S PINK rear wasn’t protruding from the garage, which meant Jules wasn’t home. Someone was here though. After paying the taxi driver, Lee eyed the unfamiliar Prius in the driveway.
He’d intended to stay a third night in Auckland, but his sister seemed to think that if she bitched about Jules long enough Lee would miraculously see things her way. For the sake of their relationship, it seemed politic to catch the next bus north.
And he’d missed Jules. Though his promise prohibited him from telling her that, he was free to acknowledge it privately. Much good it would do him, but as Ajmal’s oft-quoted Pashtun proverb declared, “When he dies, then only is a man lost.” Hope was hard to kill.
The front door was ajar with a key in it. Lee pushed it open. “Hello?” No response. Dumping his bag in the hallway, he followed the faint murmur of voices to the backyard.
“All it needs is an investment of energy and enthusiasm to significantly enhance the resale value.” The woman’s voice wasn’t one he recognized. “And with the price reflecting the owner’s desire for a quick sale it’s a remarkable bargain for a buyer with vision... Oops!”