I turned from him. “You survived the plane crash, I see.”
“What plane crash?”
He didn’t even remember our last conversation. Typical. What was he doing here, anyway? No one had said anything about Austen returning, and now he acted as if no time had passed between us. It had been eight months! He hadn’t even come home for Christmas. I tried to match his relaxed tone. “Taylor’s somewhere around here,” I said. “You’re looking for her, right?”
“Not really. I’m just looking for anyone who will talk to me.”
“Then you’d better wait for Taylor.”
“Good. Wait. Why?” I heard the laughter behind his words, laced with confusion. It frustrated me. Hadn’t he spent at least half as much time as I had stewing about our failed relationship? Judging by the sound of his voice, he didn’t know that there was anything between us to lose. Dredging up the past would only get me more riled up and possibly prove that I was overreacting. I wasn’t about to reveal to him that I had wasted months grieving over a misunderstanding.
I decided to play it cool, and so I gave him a forced smile. “I just don’t want to hear how much you loved Boston more than us.”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Give me a second; I have to change into some real clothes.” He left his bike against the wall and disappeared into the restroom. I stared after him. So that was my big dramatic reunion with my long-lost love? Long-lost nothing! How anticlimactic. I realized that I had gone stiff, and I uncurled my fists so that they lay more naturally against my sides.
The luggage was still waiting. I squared my shoulders just as another car pulled up outside. This one I recognized as Taylor’s. Her fiancé was driving, and he stole the freight parking space. Only Taylor could get away with that and not get towed. After a couple of loud slams from their car doors, Chuck Bigley got out and helped his sweetheart to the front door of the lobby. The two talked excitedly outside, which predictably ended with another deep kiss before they peeled open the glass doors.
“The train on my dress isn’t that long!” Taylor complained once she was inside.
“Well, they’re twins,” her fiancé said. “Try to explain to one girl that only her sister will have the honor of carrying your train.”
“Then I’ll have to get a longer train,” Taylor said. “Jane! What do you think? Would it look strange if I had two flower girls with how short the train is on my dress?”
“Not at all,” I lied.
Taylor nodded. “I’ll get a longer train; that’s all there is to it.”
Bigley winked at me. “Good thing we have Jane, the miracle worker here. She’ll arrange the whole romantic setting with just a twitch of her pen.”
“Uh …” I found my worn notebook on the counter and sat down heavily on the stool. My legs were still shaky from my Austen encounter. He was only one room away, and it took everything in me to concentrate on Taylor. I glanced up at her. “You’d like me to contact the dressmakers at Elton’s then?”
Taylor smiled—apparently it went without saying, so I wrote down yet another errand for myself. Before I could tell Taylor about Austen’s big arrival, she was pelting me with questions. “Have Bigley’s grandparents come in from England yet?”
“Honey,” Bigley interrupted. “I told you that they are not coming in until tomorrow.”
“Dear, you did not tell me that.”
“Yes sweetheart, I did.”
Now they were fighting with terms of endearment. I was glad that I had listened to Bigley about his grandparents, or I’d be the one freaking out right now. The Rosings House where they were staying was not ready for guests yet, and I still had to find Freddy so that he could transform the Wood House into something fit for a human, let alone Dancey.
The door to the restroom opened and Austen came out, having changed from his biking gear to jeans and a T-shirt. It gave him a lean look and emphasized his height, making him look too good for words, which only served to irritate me.
Taylor jumped when she saw him. “Austen!”
Bigley hesitated for a moment, sizing Austen up—to anyone else but me, Austen just looked like a friendly dork, and Bigley’s face cleared of jealousy. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He came forward with his big hand extended. Austen took it, and they exchanged a firm handshake before stepping back to a more comfortable distance.
“Austen, this is Chuck Bigley, my fiancé,” Taylor said. “Austen’s a big financial consultant out in Boston, but he’s taking a break for a month to help us out here. Aren’t you, Austen?”
I couldn’t believe it. She already knew about this? No one had bothered to tell me. I was so chopped liver around here, it wasn’t even funny.
Austen shook his head. “It’s more like I’m doing my parents a favor. I’ll be going through their books to write up a financial plan while I’m here …” My gaze flew to him. I knew that tone of voice. Austen was lying. “I already put my things in the Wood House,” he said. “I hope that’s okay?”
No, it was not. Where would I put Dancey? Before I could say anything, Taylor interrupted with a rush of words. “I’m so glad that you’re here. Your mother said that you were coming to help us.”
“Well, yeah,” Austen said.
“You had better, because we are drowning. Drowning!”
“Dear.” Chuck caught Taylor’s face in his hands. “We’ll be just fine. Jane has it all under control.”
“What about my brunch tomorrow? We ran out of olives. The lettuce is limp! Austen, please, we need you!” Taylor escaped her fiancé to grasp Austen’s arm. He grimaced while she dragged him aside, using a half-whisper that we all could hear, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but if you could be Jane’s assistant, just until after the wedding, then I’d dearly appreciate it. Your mother would, too.”
“I don’t need his help,” I said at the same time Austen said, “She doesn’t need my help.”
I felt my eyes widen to betray me. “You don’t want to work with me?”
“Are you kidding?” Austen had the look of a man caught in the middle of two firing squads. “It’s not about that. You are more than capable of taking care of this, Jane. Besides, you just said you didn’t need my help.” He attempted a smile and turned to Taylor, talking fast. “I barely have time to look through the books. It’s a lengthy process, and I’d say it would be in everyone’s best interests to give me a little space.”
“You made it! I didn’t believe you.” Ann-Marie attacked Austen with a hug from behind. We all stiffened for him; and what did she mean by not believing him? Had they been talking and yet he couldn’t find any time to text me? “Oh!” She stuffed her nose into the middle of his back and inhaled him deeply. “You changed your cologne.” She took another sniff. “I like it too much. You should not wear that ever again.”
Austen laughed, a little uncomfortably. “Why?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Message received.” He inched away from her, patting her head. She grinned back at him and touched the stubble he had grown on his face.
“Ann-Marie!” Taylor said, snatching her back. “Don’t you have something more important to do? Like entertaining guests in the lounge?”
Ann-Marie nodded. She didn’t take her eyes off of Austen. “I had a dream about you last night.”
“Ann-Marie!” Taylor’s words came out strangled. “This is not the time. We are in a situation here. I am trying to convince Austen to work with us again. We have an event to plan!”
“Honey.” Bigley took on his soothing voice and found her hand. He looked deeply into his fiancée’s eyes. “Your wedding will be beautiful. It will be talked about for years to come. Prince William and Kate have nothing on you.”
That coaxed a reluctant smile from her. “That’s sweet, Chuck, but I don’t care about that … I just want my mom and dad to know that their little girl is happy.” Her voice broke.
�
�They will.” He smoothed down her hair. “Everything will be perfect—you’ll see. The train on your dress, the olives in the salad, the fresh flowers that drip from the ceiling; it will be everything you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl.” His words left Ann-Marie smiling and Austen frowning. I was utterly confused. I had never seen Taylor act this way before. If she kept at this, we’d all have to check into a mental hospital by the end of the week.
“Sure,” Austen muttered. “Chuck and Taylor—that will look great on the napkins.”
I elbowed him. Hard. He grunted. Luckily Taylor didn’t overhear the comparison of their names to a shoe brand. “I’m not being too overbearing, am I?” she asked her husband-to-be.
Bigley kissed her in response. “Everything you do is perfect. Now, leave the worrying to the ones you paid to worry about it, honey. You need some rest.” Taylor allowed him to lead her out of the room. The door swung shut behind them, leaving us in uneasy silence.
Ann-Marie sighed. “They are so in love.”
“Something’s wrong with Taylor,” Austen said.
I refused to look at him. “Taylor’s just stressed out. She’ll be her old self when things settle down.”
“No. She’s not happy. Didn’t you see her? This wedding’s not going to happen.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking again, but it wasn’t funny. I swung around to face him. “What do you know, Austen? This is the first time you’ve ever seen Taylor together with Bigley. They are very happy!”
“Yeah? Then why is she making herself crazy over nothing? Have you heard of anyone who actually wants their wedding to be an event?”
“Um,” I raised my hand, “event coordinator here. Yeah, plenty of people do.”
“No.” He set his backpack by the counter and hooked his leg around a stool before sitting down. “No one remembers their own wedding. Nobody … and if they do, they’re not really in love.”
“Oh, wow.” Ann-Marie gazed up at Austen like he had just recited poetry. “That was beautiful. I hope you’re not a mind reader. Are you?”
I tried to will Austen not to answer that, but it was like he couldn’t help it. An unsure smile danced at the corner of his lips. “Why do you ask, Ann-Marie?”
“Because I don’t want you reading my thoughts right now.”
“Why?” he prodded. “What are you thinking?”
He asked. He asked!
“Oh, you don’t want to know,” she said. “It involves you and me and bubbles and—”
I cut her off, “Ann-Marie, I really think you need to go back to the lounge and play us some ‘welcome home’ music right now.”
She let out a giggle and scurried away, making eyes at Austen until the door slammed behind her. I realized that left me alone with the man that I didn’t want to have a conversation with. He watched me over the counter. I took a deep breath. “Taylor and Bigley are in love,” I said. “And they’re happy. They are so in love and happy that they make everyone around them sick.”
He broke into a smile. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to give you a hard time. I missed you. Did you miss me?” His eyes were on mine and he gave me that pleading look that had always worked on me before. But I knew exactly what this was now. Spending time together didn’t mean love—it meant Austen was bored and wanted to hang out with someone fun. Well, I refused to drop everything just to entertain him.
“Austen.” I leaned over the counter so that he could see the serious look on my face. “You didn’t miss me or you would’ve called. Were your fingers too big and fat to fit the numbers on the screen?”
He smirked, not even looking guilty after I’d called him out. “I told you I’d text back. Besides, I’m not good at the long distance thing.”
Interpretation: I wasn’t worth the effort.
“Yeah?” I asked. “Well, I’m not good at the short-distance thing.” It came out before I could really think what it sounded like and he reacted by giving a short bark of laughter. I pointed at him before he could tease me about it. “With you!” I corrected. “Only with you.” I knew he was lying about the whole accounting thing; I had heard it in his voice. I pulled closer to him. “Why did you really come back here, Austen?”
He hesitated before answering, “How could I miss the big event?”
And now he was back to insulting my job again. As if he sensed my annoyance, Austen reached out and took my hand. With a start, I saw that he was still wearing the bracelet I had given him before he left—it hurt that he thought more about my gift than he did about me.
“You need a break,” he said. “I can already see Taylor running you ragged. We should go to the beach today. I haven’t gotten a sunburn in way too long.”
I jerked away from him, more violently than I intended, but he just didn’t get that I didn’t want to grow attached. “I just heard you tell Taylor that you were much too busy with the books to help us out. I’m not dumb. I get it. You think my job is a joke.”
“What? Are you kidding me? I did not say that.”
“You didn’t? Okay, let’s see. The first thing out of your mouth when you saw me was, ‘Wow, Jane, I can’t believe that your job sucks so much.’”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Not in so many words—it sounded like you were asking me why I would still want to be here. And now you think you can just be charming and I’ll blow off the opportunity of a lifetime—even if you think Taylor’s wedding is a train wreck—so that I can have the privilege of entertaining you at the beach?”
“So you think I’m charming?”
I fumed. “Yes! Too much! Should I pay you for this honor of taking you out, or maybe we can work out some kind of trade? Let me give you my life savings. Oh, wait, I don’t have one because my job’s worthless!”
“Jane, are you really mad at me, or are you doing that thing you do when you’re stressed out and you take it out on me? You know I’m here for you if you need to let out a little aggression.” He thought this was a joke. I let out a deep, shuddering breath and he threw his hands up in a defeated gesture. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings …”
“Oh, you can’t,” I interrupted in a calmer voice, “because I don’t have them now.” He looked surprised, and I quickly amended my words. “For you. For you!” And then I flushed, because that sounded even worse. I knew the telltale redness had crept up my neck and nestled into my ears, because Austen stared at me in fascination. I hadn’t meant to let him know how I’d felt. I was like one of those idiots who gave everything away to the bad guy in the first five seconds of an interrogation.
Austen’s brows furrowed. I didn’t dare move, but if he did, I’d be out the door faster than he could get to me and try to smooth things over between us. I couldn’t face him after what I’d just admitted. Except here we were, face to face, and I couldn’t breathe. I listened to the jingling bells of the door behind me.
“Hello? Uh, hello, do you work here? Who gets my car keys?”
I swallowed and turned. A beautiful girl at the doorway gave us an uncertain smile. A dimple deeper than the Grand Canyon appeared at her right cheek. “I’m one of Taylor’s bridesmaids. I have reservations. Bella Thorne.”
The girl walked in and I was immediately sorry when I got her full glory. Bella Thorne was the youngest in Taylor’s group of friends, and I felt like an evil stepsister staring down Cinderella. She had long blond hair that hit the middle of her back. Freckles decorated a sun-kissed face. Her jeans and wrap shirt might as well have been a paper sack, because she’d outshine anything she wore.
Freddy, our errant bellhop and valet, careened into the driveway on his golf cart. His red porter jacket mirrored a captain’s in the British army, and the way he held himself made me think he never lost a battle. His dark hair was messy but purposely so, and his normally brooding looks were more pronounced than ever. He had barely parked before he was out of the vehicle and hurrying for the front door. Since he w
as never that eager to report to duty, I had a feeling he had seen the girl on her way in and was desperate to be of service.
“Jane,” he greeted me. He normally wasn’t so pleasant. Without sparing me another glance, which was completely normal, Freddy swept his dark hair from his arrogant eyes. “I’ve got this,” he told me under his breath. My suspicions were immediately confirmed when he swept an elegant bow to the beautiful bridesmaid and plucked her luggage from her hands only to drop it at my feet. “I’ll take you to your room,” he said.
Bella dimpled again, looking pleased at the effect she had over our handsome baggage handler. Freddy was already ushering Bella onto his golf cart before I came to another realization. He had left me with all the luggage again. Even worse, I was afraid to look back at Austen and see just how little my accidental declaration of love meant to him after he had seen the perfect girl. I took a deep breath and dragged Bella’s luggage to the pile in the middle of the room.
“Hey, Jane,” Austen said.
I turned cool eyes on him, hoping I looked like the heartless jade I wanted to be. “Are you offering to help me with the luggage?” I asked.
“No.”
Of course he wasn’t. If he cared about me at all, he’d stumble all over himself to make sure that my dainty hands never felt any kind of strain. I knew the true-love drill. I was fooling myself that I meant anything to him. I managed to get the smaller bags under each arm and the larger bags in my hands. I backed my way to the door that led out to the hallway—which unfortunately made it so that I was facing Austen again.
He looked as though he wanted to say something, but then when he saw my struggle, he started to laugh again. “If you need help, just ask.”
“Oh, you mean I have to beg?” I hit the door with my back and realized that it wasn’t going anywhere unless I possessed a third hand to turn the knob.
He sighed and circled the front desk to get to me. “I’ve got it.”
He cornered me against the door and tried to wrestle Mary’s plastic-covered bag from my hand. “No,” I said. “You lost out on the opportunity to be a gentleman. Now it’s my turn …”
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