The Christmas Wedding Swap

by Allyson Charles

  She stopped bouncing. What. The. Hell. “You’ve reached The Pantry, a diner in Pineville, Michigan. We don’t have any affiliation with Mr. Hamilton.” Except for hiring him under the table and screwing him senseless.

  “I got a cashier’s check for twelve hundred dollars, sent from Mr. Hamilton, with the return address of your restaurant. Does Luke Hamilton work for you?”

  Twelve hundred dollars? The amount rang a bell. “I’m catering a friend’s wedding. I signed a check in that amount over to…to Luke to buy some wild boar meat. He’s a contact of mine.”

  A low whistle met her ear. “Word to the wise,” he said, “but Luke Hamilton is not a contact you want to have. When you see him, tell him he still owes me three hundred thousand.”

  “Three hundred thousand?” Her voice was a shocked whisper. “How can he possibly owe you that much?”

  “Hamilton signed a contract that was worth that much to me. He broke the contract. According to my lawyers, he’s responsible for making good on the amount I would have made if he hadn’t broken it.” He took a sip of something on his end of the line, and swallowed. “So where the hell is Pineville, Michigan?”

  “Do you want the GPS coordinates, or do you just want to look at a map?”

  Staghart snorted. “Aren’t you the feisty one? I was just wondering how often you see Hamilton?”

  “Well…he comes and goes. He’s not here all that much.” A part of her wondered why she was protecting him. But she knew she had to give Luke a chance to explain. The man was many things—cocky, charming, and apparently a piss-poor businessman—but he hadn’t shown any hint of being deceitful.

  Except for running away from a contractual obligation and hiding out in Pineville.

  Well, except for that. “Mr. Staghart, I realize that you are in a legal dispute with Luke, but that money was earmarked for the wedding of a dear friend of mine. The wedding is in a week, and I was counting on the meat from your company to supply it. Can we come to some sort of arrangement?”

  “Sure, if you send me another twelve hundred dollars. From your personal account, not through Hamilton. Anything that comes through him, I’m putting against what he owes me.”

  Allison rubbed her forehead. “I don’t think that’s in my friend’s budget.”

  “Then I guess we can form a club: people who’ve gotten screwed by Hamilton.”

  A harsh chuckle escaped her lips. If only he knew. “Mr. Staghart—”

  “I have to get back to work, Ms. Stuart. Good luck with the wedding.”

  Allison stared at the receiver until it started to beep. Hanging up the phone, she tried to force down the panic that clogged her throat. She hadn’t just ruined her friend’s wedding. This could be fixed.

  She stood and kicked the exercise ball. It bounced off a filing cabinet and caught her in the stomach. Calmly, and with deliberation, she placed the ball under her desk. She was a professional. She could fix this. She thought about the list in the budget section of Sadie’s binder. Colt had a good business, but he and Sadie were investing their money in each property they flipped. They didn’t have a whole lot of ready cash to waste. Allison could cover it. It was her boyfriend who had made them short the twelve hundred dollars. But she didn’t think Sadie, or especially Colt, would go for that.

  She leaned over her desk, pressed her palms flat against the scratched wood surface. The menu would have to change. Back to plain turkey. Much cheaper than stupid wild boar stuffing. Yes, she could fix this, still put out a great meal for Sadie’s wedding. That problem was solved; time to move on to the next.

  Pushing off the desk, she headed for the kitchen. Kurt and Delilah were listening to heavy metal as they flipped burgers. Luke was noticeably absent. Allison pushed into the front of the house. The Pantry was only half full this time of day, and Allison saw in one glance that Luke wasn’t in it.

  But the redhead at the counter was hard to miss.

  Luke’s ex-manager raised a steaming mug. “You know, your coffee isn’t as horrendous as I thought it would be. Ethiopian beans?”

  Allison didn’t remember which bean Luke was using this week. “Folgers.” She smiled at the grimace that crossed the beautiful woman’s face. “Have you seen Luke?”

  “He left with two old ladies and one ugly mutt.” Laurie took another sip of coffee. “But he knows I want to talk to him. He’ll be back.”

  She said that with such assurance, it turned Allison’s stomach, like Luke was her lap dog. “Shep isn’t ugly. He’s distinguished.” Allison crossed her arms under her chest. The poor dog really was kind of ugly, but like hell would she let Laurie get away with saying it. Besides, Shep was a complete sweetheart. It didn’t matter how he looked.

  Laurie snorted. “Whatever you say.” Leaning back, she made a long perusal of Allison over the brim of her coffee cup. Her gaze focused on Allison’s t-shirt, stretched tight across her breasts, making Allison all kinds of uncomfortable. “I can see why Luke wanted to play house with you. He always did encourage me to go up a cup size or two.”

  Allison’s jaw dropped. “He did what?”

  “He’s a guy.” Laurie shrugged. “Anyway, I’m just saying I understand why he chose you. Someone like you could never stand by his side in Chicago. You’re too cheap-looking for his image. But out here in the sticks, I guess that doesn’t matter.”

  Allison curled her hand around a butter knife. She took a deep breath and then another. No, there would be no blood in her diner. Blood was very hard to clean up. Besides, she wasn’t by nature a violent person. Sometimes she just wished she was. She tapped the blade against the counter top instead. “When you finish that cup of coffee, I want you to leave.”

  Laurie smiled, her eyes flashing with delight, and took a miniscule sip. “You don’t really think Luke’s kept your relationship private, do you? Like his other flings, Luke tells me all about them before we get back together. It’s our pattern.”

  “I don’t believe you.” There was no way Luke would be in such a twisted relationship with this woman, especially not after she’d screwed him over with that contract.

  Laurie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Oh, sweetie. He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” She rested her elbows on the counter. “You may not want to believe it, but Luke and I understand each other in ways you never could. If it makes you feel any better, I think he likes you well enough. When he showed me the selfies you two took by the lake, he said you were sweet.”

  Allison’s body temperature rocketed. Her brain wouldn’t form coherent thoughts.

  Laurie wasn’t finished. “And it was awfully nice of you to give Luke some money to help him out with his little situation. It wasn’t much”—Laurie swept her eyes around the diner—“but I’m sure it was all you could afford.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I think Luke’s plan to make Staghart think he wanted to settle up with him is brilliant. That way Staghart will stop sending process servers after him. That month will be up in no time, and Luke will be home free.”

  Allison sawed the dull knife back and forth over her Formica counter. She needed this conversation to be over. She needed to talk to Luke. None of this was true. It couldn’t be true, because if it was, she was the biggest sap the world had ever known. And that’s not who she was. She was a tough-as-nails business owner who wore kick-ass boots and didn’t let anyone mess with her.

  And she knew that wasn’t who Luke was. Laurie was taking too much pleasure in trying to get Allison to believe the worst about him. Whatever the reason Laurie was dangling the bait, Allison wasn’t going to bite.

  The bell over her front door tinkled, and Allison’s gaze flew to the opening, her heart leaping. And crashing. It wasn’t Luke. She waved at Judge Nichols, Jerome, and Billy as they walked through the door. Both cops were in uniform.

  Allison put her face in Laurie’s. “You
do know blackmail is a crime, right? If I were you, I’d get the hell out of this diner before I forget my promise to Luke and report you to the police.” She jutted her chin at the boys in blue.

  Laurie followed her line of sight and paled.

  The judge turned his bright blue eyes on the two of them. Whatever he saw made him cock his head. He ambled forward to take a seat at the counter, and the other two men followed. “Afternoon, Miss Stuart. Could I get a cup of coffee?”

  Pushing away from the counter, Allison walked to the coffee station. “Coming right up.” Her nerves steadied with the familiar task. She had a lot of work to do and couldn’t waste time freaking out. Cam had left, but Sadie still sat in the corner booth, and she had solidly cornered the market on freaking out. It was Allison’s job to settle her down. It was also her job to run her diner, finalize the catering menu for the wedding, and find out what the hell was going on from Luke.

  It was going to be a busy day.

  Sadie pulled at her ponytail, and looked at her binder. Her groan could be heard across the restaurant. Yep, the bride-to-be was priority numero uno.

  Laurie slid off her stool and threw a couple of bucks on the counter. With a little backward wave, she sashayed out the door. Her strut oozed confidence, but she hightailed it out of there a bit faster than usual.

  Allison smiled grimly. At least the day hadn’t been a total victory for Laurie.

  She poured coffee for the three men. “Great tree, Billy. You and Jerry did a good job decorating it this year.”

  Jerome clapped him on the shoulder. “Except for the technical difficulties. Next time remember to plug in the power cord before we flip the switch.”

  A slow flush crept up Billy’s neck, and Jerome guffawed and slapped his back again.

  The judge poured a dollop of cream into his coffee. “I’ve noticed a couple of new people in town lately.” The man flicked his gaze to the empty seat beside him, the one Laurie had occupied, and looked back at Allison.

  She gave him a tight smile. “Our guests won’t be here for very long. We’re just a temporary distraction from their lives in Chicago.”

  “Don’t sell us short.” The edges of Judge Nichols’s eyes crinkled. “Your cook seems to be sticking around. He must have found something in Pineville worth stopping here for.”

  Allison couldn’t even think about her relationship with Luke now. Something that had seemed like a long shot had just become more complicated. She rubbed her temple.

  Nodding at the judge, she picked an order up at the window and deposited the meals on table two. She brought Sadie some more coffee, wishing she had a license to serve her friend something harder. With a cheerful smile, she slid into the booth. Sadie’s wedding had to top her list of priorities.

  And if Luke Hamilton had messed with that in any way, he was going to feel the pointy end of her Tony Lamas right where the sun didn’t shine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Allison was scrubbing the tables down after closing, elbow aching, when Luke returned to the diner. Every hour he’d been gone, her rage level had risen. She’d composed a dozen different texts telling him to get his ass back to The Pantry and deleted them all. She’d needed the time to organize her thoughts.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks.” Luke strode over and dropped a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

  Allison tossed the towel on the table. “We need to talk.”

  Luke drew his brows together. “Okaaay.” He followed her through the kitchen and to her office. Allison squeezed past boxes full of favors for Sadie’s wedding. Luke leaned against the doorjamb.

  Allison cocked a hip on the corner of her desk, one foot planted firmly on the floor and the other swinging with nervous energy.

  “What’s up?” Luke slid off his bomber jacket and tossed it on a box.

  Her mind whirled. She didn’t even know where to start. Rolling a pencil between two fingers, she decided Sadie’s wedding was the most urgent issue. “I got a phone call today. From Walt Staghart. He wanted to know when he was going to get the rest of his money.”

  Luke jerked his head back. “Staghart? What the hell was he calling you for?”

  “He received your cashier’s check. You know, the one that was supposed to pay for Sadie’s boar meat.” Allison clenched the edge of the desk. “Instead of sending us the meat, he’s keeping the money as partial payment of your debt.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “How did he know it came from me? Or that I’m connected to you?”

  “You put my return address on the envelope!” Her right eye twitched, and she put a finger to it. Deep breaths.

  Luke stepped forward. “Yes, I sent the check and the P.O. from your address because you’re the client buying the food. But that doesn’t explain how he connected it to me. I didn’t sign anything with my name.”

  “Right now that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Colt and Sadie are out twelve hundred dollars, and I don’t have boar meat for the roulade.” She clawed a hand through her hair. “I’ll go back to my turkey dish—”

  “No,” Luke said. “We can find another option. Even if we don’t, we can leave out the game and the roulade will still be better than roast turkey.” He kicked a box. “I still can’t understand… Laurie.” His nostrils flared. “I told Keith about the wedding catering. She read the texts. She must have called Staghart and told him to look for the check.”

  Allison put both hands to her temples and rubbed. “She’s reading your texts?”

  “She cloned my phone,” Luke growled. “I was just with Eugenie and Debbie. They figured out what Laurie’s been doing. She’s seen every damn text since I left Chicago.”

  Allison could feel the blood draining from her face. “Every text?”

  Luke stepped up to her, and massaged her shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you sent me some private ones.”

  Something better not thought of at the moment. At least she hadn’t sent him any pictures. She brushed him away and stood. “I don’t care. I care about Sadie’s wedding and the fact that I’m not giving her what I promised. I care that she’s out over a thousand dollars. You will be paying her back. I don’t care if I have to stalk your butt back to Chicago. I’m getting her money back.”

  “Of course I’m paying her back.” A muscle spasmed in Luke’s jaw. “This isn’t a problem. We can make everything work.”

  “How?” Allison asked, her voice breaking. “Not everything works out, Luke.” She sank onto her exercise ball and closed her eyes. Her anger wasn’t over fifty pounds of boar meat. “We’re not going to work out. It’s time we stopped pretending we have a chance.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You know.” Allison opened her eyes and stared at the floor. “We’ve both always known. Maybe we’d last a couple of months long distance. But you’d get too busy to fly out on one of your weekends. I’d be busy going to one of my niece’s recitals and not make it out to Chicago for mine. It would drift to an end. Staghart knows where you are now. You have to leave anyway. I’d rather rip the Band-Aid off and be done with it.”

  Her eyes and throat burned, and Allison willed the tears away. They were both grown-ups, and these things happened. They could shake hands and walk away as friends.

  Who never saw each other again.

  She swiped at her cheek.

  “But we’ve talked about this.” Luke’s voice was raw. “We agreed that we’d wait and see where we went. Just because Staghart knows doesn’t change anything. I’ll go back on the road for a month until the statute of limitations runs out, and then I’ll be back in Chicago, and we’ll go on as we planned. Why end it now when things are going so well?”

  “You don’t belong in Pineville, and I sure wouldn’t fit in with your life in Chicago. Laurie was right about that.” She sniffed. “At least you don’t have to pay the woman anythi
ng. Just dump your phone.”

  Luke circled the desk, his motorcycle boots peeking into her view. The damn boots that had started this whole mess. His clean, male scent invaded her space.

  “What did she say?” he demanded.

  Allison wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “She pointed out that I’m not your type and that you wouldn’t have anything to do with a woman like me in Chicago.”

  “You think I have a type?” His knee nudged hers. “What, that I only like redheads and thieves?”

  She focused on the scuff across his right toe. “I know you care for me. But when it comes to who you’d want standing by your side when you cut the ribbon to your next restaurant, or smiling next to you from the society pages, I don’t make the grade.” She lifted her gaze to his face. The muscles of his jaw were tense, hard. “Laurie just told me something I already knew.”

  He leaned down, placing his hands on her thighs. His breath brushed her cheek. “And why wouldn’t you make the cut?” There was an edge to his words, but the hand he laid on her neck was gentle. “What is it about you exactly that makes you unworthy? Or makes me such a narrow-minded ass I can’t look past it?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know damn well I wouldn’t fit into your life. Your haircut probably cost more than everything I’m currently wearing.”

  “I’ll let it grow out,” he said.

  “I wear my jeans too tight, my hair color is fake, and did I mention that my butt is twice the size of your last girlfriend’s?” Glaring, she dared him to disagree. “And that’s just for starters. Need I go on?”

  Luke combed his fingers through her hair. “Your jeans are sexy, platinum blonde suits you, and have I mentioned that your ass is one of my favorite parts of your body? What else?”

  She stood and sat back on the desk. She needed distance.

  Putting his hands on the desk on either side of her, Luke refused to give it to her. Allison scooted back, knocking over a stack of bills in her attempt to crawl over the desk. He hooked a hand under her knee and dragged her back.