“No.” He rose when she did. “She said we should still have the meeting.”
Poppy sniffed, her disbelief likely evident. “You’re asking me to trust that your mother wants you to plan her wedding?”
“God, no.” She smirked at the pained look on his face. Then he smiled and for a second Poppy forgot she was supposed to be mad at him. “But since I know more about what the hotel will look like once it’s finished, she said I should handle this part.”
Poppy noted the logic in that, even though she didn’t want to. “Still, I think Victoria should be here. I need to know what she wants before I can determine how to use the space.”
The tiny office had started to feel claustrophobic. She didn’t think she could remain here, with Beck, without doing something to embarrass herself. She flicked open a button on her cream-colored blouse to get a little air, realized her error when Beck’s eyes darkened and his eyebrows shot straight up. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she told him, rebuttoning her top. “I’m warm.”
“Do I make you all hot and bothered?”
“In your dreams,” she scoffed.
“True.”
They were getting nowhere and Poppy had no intention of letting him bait her into something she’d regret saying. “I’m here to plan your parents’ wedding.” She pinned him with what she hoped was a shaming stare. “If you don’t want to help, I’m leaving. I have other business to take care of today.” She clutched her briefcase in front of her for protection.
“No, wait.” He came around the desk, caught her shoulder when she turned to leave. The touch sent a shock of awareness through her. “Don’t go.”
Poppy closed her eyes and wished for strength. She had to remember she and Beck wanted two entirely different things out of life and pretending they didn’t was only going to lead to disappointment. “Why shouldn’t I? You clearly don’t want to talk about the wedding.”
“I do.” He grimaced. “Okay, I don’t. But I’m willing to. If you’ll stay.”
She eyed him. “You promise?”
He didn’t respond to her question, just slid his hand down to her elbow. She hated the responsive tingle that followed and considered ripping her arm free. But she feared any aggrieved response on her part would only show him how much she continued to be affected by his presence.
“I want to show you the ballroom.” He tugged her toward the door. “I think you’ll love it.”
Poppy found herself propelled forward, all too close to Beck for her liking. Well, no, that wasn’t true, which was the problem. She liked being near him too much.
She slipped her arm free as he grabbed the hard hat she’d deposited on his desk. He placed it on her head, carefully brushing her hair from her eyes. “There, now you’re safe.”
But Poppy didn’t think so. His finger traced a path down her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat. No, she wasn’t safe. Not safe at all.
She pulled back and glared at him, her only defense. “Do you mind?”
“Do you?” He stepped forward.
“You’re crowding me.”
“I like to think of it as getting to know you better.”
She put her hand on his chest, ignoring the pull of need that told her to leave it there for a fraction longer than required to push him away. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to get to know me. The ballroom?” she asked, keeping her voice serene and putting her hand back on the briefcase handle.
“Right this way.” He grabbed a white hard hat from a hook on the wall, put it on and led her through the door.
Poppy practiced some deep, calming breaths as they headed back into the construction zone and hoped they’d kick in before Beck glanced at her again.
This was unfair. He was completely comfortable, flirting and teasing as if their conversation on Friday night had been no big deal. While she kept reliving the scene in her head, replaying every word, each motion, wondering what he might have said if she hadn’t stopped him. Which was insane. He wasn’t the right man for her and she was moving on. Though she found that much easier to believe when he wasn’t flaunting his muscles in that tight work shirt. Really, a man shouldn’t be allowed to make a T-shirt look that good.
He showed her the ballroom and described his vision for it. Poppy found herself caught up in the imagery of the fabulous deco-inspired space, all black-and-white tiles and silvery accents. Guests would enter and mingle on the tiled floors, eating and drinking as servers carried platters through the room. They’d hire a small band to set up in the corner, and a bartender—that incredible round desk would be an ideal bar station. There was plenty of space for all the ideas running through her head.
“So what do you think?” Beck asked, breaking into her fantasy.
She smiled before she remembered who she was talking to, but even once she did, the remnant of good tidings remained. “I think it will be amazing.”
“Me, too.” He smiled back and tapped the clipboard she’d pulled out from her bag during their walk-through to take notes. “Anything else you need to ask about?”
“Actually, yes. Will you have kitchen staff in place or will I need to hire a catering company?” If she needed to hire out, she’d have to act fast. Though the wedding was still a full three months away, and late October was never popular for parties except of the casual Halloween variety, good caterers got booked up no matter what the time of year.
“The kitchen will be operational. I’m interviewing chefs soon.” He studied her. “Want to come and do a tasting with me?”
“No, thank you.” He blinked, obviously not used to such quick rejection. A dull satisfaction rolled through her.
But he didn’t give up so easily. “How about dinner?”
“No, Beck.” She swallowed. “Just no.”
Because there was nothing else to say.
She left shortly after, making her way back to her office, and threw herself into her chair as soon as she reached her desk.
She was fine. This was fine. Everything was fine.
Her face grew warm. She fanned it. Probably the heat of the day or the hurried walk she’d just had.
“How did it go?” Wynn strode into her office, no shame that he’d come for the dirt. “Do you have a sense of what Victoria wants? Was he there?”
“Victoria didn’t make it.” She fanned harder.
Wynn frowned and dropped into the chair across from her. “She skipped the meeting?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t need to explain what that meant. Wynn got it. “So it was just the two of you.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?” She wouldn’t make it easy for him. If he wanted the dirt, he could dig.
“Any of those old feelings?” She’d told Wynn what had happened on Friday and he’d agreed she’d handled herself well.
Poppy sighed. There was no point in lying. “He flirted with me the whole time, which is why I’ve decided that I need to go on a date.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She’d made her decision on her walk back to the office, bypassing men in suits, in jeans, in sweatpants, in shorts. Any one of them might be a good match for her. But she wasn’t going to meet Mr. Right sitting in her office. She needed to get out there.
“Well, you know what they say,” Wynn said with a nod. “The best way to get over someone is to get under—”
Poppy held up her hand. “Please, stop. Haven’t I been through enough today?”
“—someone else.”
Apparently not.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BECK THOUGHT THE meeting with Poppy had gone rather well. True, she’d turned him down twice, but he sensed a wavering. She’d done her best to keep her irritation front and center, but he noti
ced her slips when she didn’t focus. Those little hiccups gave him hope. She was angry, but the breach wasn’t insurmountable. He just had to convince her to give him a chance.
He’d considered calling her—more than once—but had decided to let her be for the week. His mother had been thrilled when he’d told her of his progress and was certain by the time the wedding rolled around, Poppy would be more guest than organizer. But she’d also told Beck not to push too hard, too fast. He didn’t want to scare her off.
For the first time that he remembered, Beck listened to his mother’s advice. Instead of calling Poppy to ask if she’d like to get together or to tease her until that fiery temper of hers broke open, he’d spent the last seven days wandering the area, learning which cafés sold the best coffee, which bistros made the best sandwiches and which sushi restaurants stayed open late for those midnight cravings. But he looked forward to seeing her today.
He’d even tidied up his dust storm of an office—shoving scattered papers across his metal desk into a somewhat tidy pile and sweeping the empty coffee cups and napkins into the wastebasket. When he noticed the guest chair was covered in a layer of dirt, he dug one of the napkins back out of the bin, checked to make sure it was clean and then scrubbed the chair down. Work zones were impossible to keep shiny, but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He liked being in the midst of the construction, watching the pieces of his vision come together.
He’d also taken the time to groom himself in the reflection of his computer screen. This consisted of running his hands through his hair and making sure there was no drywall dust on his face, but he was pretty pleased with himself. Not that he thought he was a model, but he looked good. He’d dressed for a proper business meeting in a suit, which he’d been told he wore well. He hoped his professionalism might sway Poppy to go out for lunch and discuss the wedding in a more casual setting.
Despite his success when they were teenagers, Beck didn’t think sawdust and wood shavings set the tone he wanted. To that end, he’d made a reservation at Coast, a popular and well-loved seafood restaurant, and pulled together a folder of plans for the hotel, including materials and layout, so she’d have something concrete to look at.
And so when Wynn walked through the door instead of Poppy, Beck’s stomach plummeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too,” Wynn announced with a sniff. The hard hat placed at what Beck figured was supposed to be a fashionable angle bobbled. “Thanks for cleaning up.”
Since Beck had made an effort, he was both annoyed and insulted. He scowled. “Where’s Poppy?”
“She couldn’t make it.” Wynn’s smile was tight. “I’m filling in.”
Great. That was just great. Beck scowled some more, but it didn’t appear to intimidate Wynn in the slightest. “I think she should be here. She needs to see the space in person.”
Wynn lifted a pale eyebrow at him. “And I think your mother should be here.”
Touché. Beck had the grace to feel embarrassed. “Fine. What was so important she skipped out?” And her reason had better be good or he would pick up the phone and shame her into coming down.
“She’s in Naramata.” Wynn glanced down at the plastic chair, disgust visible on his face. He pulled out a handkerchief and gave the seat a quick wipe.
“I already cleaned that,” Beck told him.
“Not very well.” Once Wynn polished it to his satisfaction, he lowered himself into the chair. Somehow Wynn had dressed to match the hard hat in a pale gray suit, with yellow shirt and tie. “Cami had the baby yesterday. Poppy flew out this morning.”
“Oh.” So much for shaming her. He couldn’t even be annoyed, which annoyed him. “Everything go okay?”
Wynn blinked as if he was surprised, which insulted Beck all over again. He wasn’t a complete brute. He cared about people.
“I didn’t ask for details.” Wynn made a face. “Cami will tell me whether I want to hear them or not, but according to Poppy she had a smooth delivery. Another girl. Lily.”
“Pretty.” He’d have to send something. He needed to win them all over, not just Poppy. He thought at first to ask his assistant to send something, then reconsidered. That would be keeping distance and he was trying not to do that. Even if Cami would likely appreciate the elegant taste of his assistant, she’d also enjoy knowing it was something he’d picked out himself. He hoped Poppy would, too. “So she wasn’t avoiding me?”
Wynn pulled a binder out of his briefcase and flipped it open with a little shrug. “I wouldn’t say that. More like excellent timing. Now, let’s get down to business.”
But Beck wasn’t done. “So she is avoiding me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Wynn met him stare for stare.
“Is there something you’d like to ask me?” Wynn finally said.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Beck returned.
“No.” Wynn glanced down at the binder in his lap. “I see Poppy’s mentioned something about having a cocktail party in the lobby between the ceremony and the reception. They are both happening here, correct?”
“Yes.” Beck was a little discombobulated by the quick change of subject. “Ceremony in the garden and reception in the ballroom.” He shook his head to clear it. “What’s going on?”
Wynn paused his intense study of the binder. “Why do you think Poppy was at the same restaurant as you that Friday?” He tilted his head, somehow the hard hat stayed on. “Did you really think that was just coincidence?”
Now Beck was really discombobulated. “I thought Jamie was responsible for that.”
“Who do you think told Jamie where she would be? And she was not easy to get there, but I managed. And what did you do? Screwed it all up.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did. She doesn’t want to see you again. Too bad.” He eyed Beck speculatively. Beck sensed he was being judged and found lacking. Wynn heaved a disappointed sigh. “I thought you could make her happy.”
“I can.” Beck’s molars were clamped together. “She won’t let me.”
“Oh?” Wynn looked interested.
“Yes.” Beck wasn’t sure what Poppy had told Wynn, but he doubted it was the truth. Not as he saw it. “She won’t talk to me.”
“Do you blame her?”
“No.” Beck unclenched his jaw. He wasn’t mad at Wynn, not really. “Look, I was an ass. I know that. I thought things couldn’t work out between us.” He reminded himself that grinding his teeth would only upset his dentist and explained the different cities again. “I knew she wanted more than that. She deserves more than that and I thought it would be better to let her think I didn’t care than to drag things out in what would inevitably end in a breakup. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And when I saw her at the restaurant with that old guy...”
Wynn looked delighted. “You were jealous.”
“It sounds petty when you say it like that.” But it was the truth. He’d been jealous. Still was. His hands fisted thinking about her with that old fart. “Anyway, it wasn’t only that.” No, there was the whole part where he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her and this stupid ache in his chest. “The point being, I tried being the good guy and it didn’t fit. I want her back and now I’m going to fight for her.”
There was a long moment where Beck wondered if Wynn was going to chew him out for being an idiot or tell him he and Poppy were no longer going to organize his parents’ wedding. His mother would be devastated. Hell, he’d be devastated. Then Wynn smiled.
“For the record, she wasn’t on a date. That was a client.” Beck’s sense of relief was overwhelming. Wynn tapped his pen on the binder pages. “And despite the fact you have mucked up every opportunity you’ve had with her, I still think you’re good for her. So let’s call this your lucky day.”
&n
bsp; Beck raised an eyebrow.
“I’m going to help you.”
* * *
“HE CORNERED YOU at the restaurant?”
Poppy rolled her eyes at her sister. “Don’t go thinking we shared some romantic moment where he declared I was his one true love and he didn’t know how to go on living without me. It wasn’t like that at all.” Though that would have been nice.
She swayed her newest niece who slept peacefully in her arms all bundled up and smelling soft and sweet. She bent her head and inhaled, making the tufts of hair on Lily’s head dance. Although she was only a couple of days old, it was clear Lily was going to have the Sullivans’ auburn hair.
Cami grinned from the couch where she snuggled under a blanket with Holly curled into her side. Poppy had arrived this morning and proceeded to send their mother home for a nap. The woman had been at the hospital all day and night waiting for the news and hovering. She meant well, but Poppy sensed Cami was near her breaking point. Plus, Poppy didn’t want to face down both of them at the same time.
“Well, how did you tell him you were done? Did you just blurt it out?”
“Is there some way to ease into it?” Poppy asked, still studying Lily. Her baby skin was so pure and unblemished. Nothing bad in life had touched her yet. Poppy’s heart hitched. “I told him we didn’t want the same things in life and left.”
Cami ran a hand over Holly’s strawberry-blond curls. “I thought you cared about him.”
“I do. Did,” Poppy corrected hurriedly.
But she was too slow. Cami was on that slip of the tongue at light speed. “Ah, so you do still care. I knew it.”
“Well, I’m sorry if my feelings don’t magically disappear. But it doesn’t matter. He’s not the right guy for me.” He never had been. “So I told Wynn I’m ready to start dating.”
She’d thought that little snippet of information would pique Cami’s interest. Her sister had been hounding her about getting back out there for the last ten months. Ever since Evan had gone on his quest to find himself. Instead, Cami frowned. “You’re not ready for that. You need to figure out this thing with Beck.”
Not Another Wedding Page 23