One Week to the Wedding--An unforgettable story of love, betrayal, and sisterhood

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One Week to the Wedding--An unforgettable story of love, betrayal, and sisterhood Page 10

by Olivia Miles


  “Me?” Kate studied the serving tray and selected another finger sandwich from the bottom tray, opting, per tradition, to save the sweeter varieties for the end of the tea.

  “We don’t talk about this often, but well…I think you should force yourself to get out there a bit more. It’s time, Kate.”

  Twice in one day, Kate mused. This wedding was sparking something. Or perhaps stirring something up.

  “I have no interest in dating,” Kate said, but there was reluctance in her voice that she knew her best friend could sense. “Why put myself through that again?” The ups and downs, the excitement, the nerves, and then the comfort. Yep, that was when things fell apart. When you got comfortable.

  “Because you might find yourself blissfully happy, that’s why.” Elizabeth beamed a smile only a person madly in love could pull off. A part of Kate wanted to shake her head and think, You wait and see, but the other part of her dared to believe that her friend was right…that someday she, too, could be as happy as Elizabeth was.

  “And if I don’t?” There was always that risk. And now she knew just how badly it could hurt.

  Elizabeth sighed. “Then you tried. But if you don’t…You’re thirty.”

  Kate cringed. “Exactly.”

  “I meant that you have a lot of years ahead of you. Do you really want to be alone forever?”

  “Of course not,” Kate said automatically. She hadn’t thought of forever. Forever was a big word, a word she used too much in her profession.

  “Then why not dip your toe in the dating pool, see what fish are in there? You may be pleasantly surprised.” Elizabeth picked up her scone, giving her a knowing look before she took a bite from it.

  “And I might end up right back where I am.”

  “Or you may end up realizing that not every guy is as bad as Jake.”

  “I don’t know who I’m angrier at some days. Jake. Or…” She couldn’t even say her name.

  “Charlotte was always a flirt,” Elizabeth said. Unlike the members of her family, Elizabeth didn’t refrain from her honest opinions about Charlotte. “Remember that time back in high school when I had a pool party and Charlotte showed up in a string bikini? She was fourteen but more sophisticated than the two of us combined.”

  “She always did like nice clothes,” Kate murmured. She remembered that day. Kate had worn a modest one-piece, with shorts on top. But then, Charlotte had always been far more interested in her nails, hair, clothes, and fashion magazines than things like studying or preparing for a test. From the age of twelve, when she first discovered her love of boys in a precocious and alarming way, she devoted her spare time to her appearance.

  Kate, on the other hand, had been a fan of clear lip gloss and functional ponytails. And books.

  “The guy I liked couldn’t take his eyes off her. And of course she fed right into it, giggling and setting her hands on his arms. Arching her back. She knew I liked him. She didn’t care. And he was seventeen. That didn’t matter, either.”

  No, of course it hadn’t. Charlotte enjoyed being the center of attention. Enjoyed winning affection. And Kate had indulged that for far too long.

  “You deserve a guy who only has eyes for you. He’s out there. You just have to be willing to find him.”

  Kate sighed. Technically she knew that few guys could top Jake’s indiscretions. And she didn’t have any other sisters they could sleep with, either. But the thought of giving her heart away only to have it trampled on…“I’ll think about it,” she said, hoping that would be enough to end the discussion.

  But Elizabeth didn’t seem finished yet. Her eyes sparked as she sat a little straighter. “Why not ask that photographer…Phillip, was that his name? Why not ask him to the wedding this weekend? He’s cute.”

  “He is. And he’s also a professional contact,” Kate reminded her. She was on thin ice as it was with Meredith, no need to jeopardize things further by the possibility of a romance gone wrong. “Besides, I’ll be busy working this weekend. I may be your maid of honor, but I’m still the wedding planner.”

  “Just keep an open mind,” Elizabeth urged.

  “I’ll try,” Kate said, even though she felt just as closed off now as she had before they started this conversation.

  Elizabeth’s expression tightened as she refilled her teacup. “There is one thing I should mention. You know your parents’ dinner tonight?”

  “Yes?” The Daniels and Jones families had been friends for so long that her parents were nearly as excited about this weekend’s wedding as they had been for hers. Kate couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hurt over it, even though she knew their hearts were in the right place. Elizabeth was like another daughter to her mother; she’d seen her grow up, been there every step of the way, even through the dramatic teenage years. But she knew her mother probably wished it was her turn to see her daughter happy.

  I am happy, she wanted to tell her mom, and she did, many times. Happy on my own.

  Elizabeth sighed heavily. “William invited Alec.”

  “He did?” Kate realized she had cried that out a little too loudly, if the pinched-lip look of disdain the older women at the next table shot her was any indication. “I mean, of course he did. Why shouldn’t he?”

  She hadn’t considered the possibility that Alec would be there tonight. She immediately wondered what she should wear, and then just as swiftly gave herself a silent lecture. Who cared what she wore?

  “I suppose it’s only right, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreading it a bit. William claims his brother will like me just fine once he gets to know me. Says we got off on the wrong foot. He claims it was his fault for introducing me to his family the same night he announced he was moving away and leaving the firm.”

  Kate tipped her head thoughtfully. “Well, that could cause for a teensy bit of bad blood.” She laughed. “Still, I understand your apprehension. When it comes to the groom’s family, it’s imperative that they make you feel welcome.”

  Which was something the Lamberts had never done, she thought.

  * * *

  Charlotte pushed the stroller into the park and sat down on the nearest bench. Honestly, one would think with all this walking that she’d be back to herself again. She frowned down at her stomach and then lifted her hand to her hair, which hadn’t been washed in more days than she could remember.

  She’d have to remedy that. Tonight. She’d planned to use Audrey’s afternoon nap to do things like shave her legs—but that would probably take an hour, she thought, chuckling.

  Still, her laughter stopped as her heart grew heavy again. She was a pretty girl. She knew it. Men knew it. And she knew they knew it. It was how she ended up in the position she was in, she supposed. A single mother. With a forest growing under her armpits.

  She laughed again, and then, realizing she was laughing to herself, quickly stopped.

  She gazed down into the stroller and touched her hand to Audrey’s forehead—gentle, and oh so careful not to wake her—hoping that she hadn’t over- or underdressed her. She didn’t have air-conditioning in her apartment, or money for a window unit, but the baby was so tiny, and it didn’t seem right not to cover her up, snuggle her in a blanket, but at the same time…

  She had a sudden longing to call her mother. She would know what to do. But she couldn’t call her mother—not to tell her she had a baby. If she did, she’d be in the car before Charlotte had even had a chance to explain. And she wasn’t ready for that, yet. Because she had to explain. And first…First, she had to turn her life around.

  She glanced back at the stroller again. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Audrey was smiling a little in her sleep. She knew from all the books she’d borrowed from the library that babies this young technically couldn’t smile, but she didn’t care to believe that just yet.

  Coming along the path were two other women pushing strollers. From the legging capris to the tight tank tops and running shoes, it was clear they were pow
er walking, not aimlessly strolling the sidewalks on end hoping their babies would settle down like Charlotte did most days. She watched them impassively as their ponytails bounced on their shoulders. They were talking animatedly, engrossed in a story that one was clearly caught up on, something about what one of their husbands had done.

  “He put him to bed in his clothes,” the blond one was saying. “My only night out in two years and he puts him to bed in his clothes.”

  The brunette shook her head knowingly. “What did he have to say about it?”

  “He said he thought they were his pajamas. But he was wearing them all day, I said!” The blonde was pushing a double stroller. A toddler was snuggled next to a baby a few months older than Audrey. Catching Charlotte’s eye, she gave a tight smile and continued her story, her voice fading as they walked over the hill and disappeared behind the branches of a willow tree.

  Charlotte wistfully watched them go. No doubt they would finish their lap and go home to their husbands, who put their children to bed in clothes instead of pajamas, and all would be forgiven. They’d make dinner: chicken nuggets for the boy, homemade veggie purée for the baby, who would spill it all over the floor, and pasta for the adults. There would be bath time and story time and then maybe a glass of wine for Mom, and then they’d fall asleep in their comfortable bed with their crisp white cotton sheets, and their baby would probably sleep through the night. They’d awake to the sun, not the sound of crying, and then it would be breakfast time and work time and all the busy little things that added up to a day.

  While Charlotte…She pressed a hand to her cheek, realizing that she was crying. Horrified, she grabbed a corner of Audrey’s flannel blanket and dabbed her face, for once grateful she’d given up on mascara.

  She could still have that life. Not with Jake. Not with any man, maybe. But she and Audrey, they were a family. And with any luck, she’d soon be reunited with the rest of her family, too.

  It all started with that interview.

  Right. First thing. The legs. Then the hair. And what had she ever been thinking, giving up mascara?

  Chapter Nine

  At six o’clock that night, Alec rolled to a stop outside a brick Colonial house a few miles inland from town and double-checked the address William had texted him earlier. There were only two other cars in the driveway, no sign of his brother’s vehicle, and Alec wrestled with whether he should sit and wait for William to arrive or kill the ignition and face the wrath of Kate on his own.

  Never one to dance around tough subjects, he turned the key, grabbed the bottle of red wine he’d picked up at store in town, and closed the car door. The path to the black front door was lined with rosebushes, and something told him that Kate was going to be just as prickly tonight as one of the thorns.

  Every choice came with a consequence, he told himself as he reached out to touch the doorbell. And if a chance to turn his family business around meant a little attitude from the uptight wedding planner, so be it. It sure as hell beat the alternative.

  From behind the closed doors, he heard the muffled sounds of footsteps and the turning of the locks. He grazed his back teeth together into a bracing smile, waiting for the narrowed eye and pinched lips, but he was startled to see a pleasant-looking woman of medium height and stature smiling back at him. Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and she wiped her hands on her apron before extending a hand.

  “You must be William’s brother! My, I’d notice the resemblance anywhere.” The woman smiled. “I’m Maura Daniels.”

  Kate’s mother. “Then this is for you,” he said, dropping her hand to extend the bottle of wine that promised to have a smooth finish with hints of chocolate and a blackberry undertone. “I can see the resemblance with you and your daughter, as well.”

  Maura patted her shoulder-length hair and gave a pleased, girlish laugh. “We’re all out back. Come on in.”

  Alec followed her through the hallway, passing a living room and dining room on each side of the curved staircase, and photos of young girls at various ages that lined the wall, satisfied to notice that his hunch was right. She was the eldest. And no doubt a bossy older sister to boot.

  Maura led him into a sunny kitchen, where a large oval table was covered in desserts and the island space was a mess of cutting boards and trays, and casserole dishes ready to go into the oven. Alec shifted uneasily on his feet as Maura open a set of French doors that led onto the wooden deck where people were already gathered. This was a quintessential family home. A little cluttered. A little busy. Lived in. Loved.

  He didn’t belong here.

  Happy to be outside again, he scanned the deck for his brother and, seeing no sign of him yet, accepted the beer Maura was offering him from a cooler.

  “I need to check on the rice!” she said in a voice that explained this was somehow urgent, and then disappeared back into the house, leaving him alone with the beer and the heated stare of Kate from across the deck.

  He gave a sheepish smile, and not seeing much of a choice, put one foot in front of the other and made his way over to her.

  “Thank you for having me,” he said, determined to keep things pleasant.

  “I’m surprised you found the time to be here,” Kate replied. She looked out over the yard, where Alec spotted a tree house wedged between the branches of a large maple tree. “And to clarify, this is my parents’ house, not mine.”

  It was clear that Kate hadn’t forgiven him for rescheduling the fitting. Jesus. Clearly this appointment was more important to her than he could have imagined. Not that he had been in a position to cancel or attempt to reschedule with Mason Lambert.

  He took a sip of his beer, trying not to think about the next meeting. A meeting that could move the company back on steady ground. But a meeting that could cost him his relationship with his brother.

  “Did you play in that thing growing up?” Alec gestured to the tree house, happy for a reason to change the subject.

  Kate blinked, disarmed by the question, and then followed his gesture to the makeshift ladder leading up to the largest branch of the old tree. For a moment, her expression softened, but her eyes went flat when she looked back at him, and then down at the drink in her hands. “I haven’t played in that thing for years. I’m probably a bit too big for it now.”

  “And here I thought it might be a nice place to hide.” Alec grinned, but she didn’t match the effort.

  She tipped her head, looking at him thoughtfully. “You’re not much of a party person, are you?”

  Alec sipped his drink. “Not really.”

  “Huh.”

  “Not what you were expecting?”

  “Just surprised is all,” Kate said.

  Alec leaned back against the deck rail, giving her a knowing smile. “I see. Doesn’t fit in with your big opinion of me, does it?” He took another sip of his drink, finding that, like earlier this morning, he was starting to enjoy himself.

  “I didn’t say that,” she said hotly.

  “No, but you thought it. Tell me, why is it that you don’t like me? You’re friends with my brother. Are we really all that different?”

  At this, she gave him her full attention. “I think you are. And for Elizabeth’s sake, I hope you are. With your track record, you won’t even make it to the wedding!”

  She was sharper than he’d given her credit for. “I apologize again about today. If it could have been avoided, I would have rescheduled. I promise I will be at your service tomorrow at noon.”

  “Three,” she corrected.

  “Three.” He took a long pull on his beer before flashing her a grin.

  Kate bristled. “I should go help my mom in the kitchen. William and Elizabeth should be here any minute,” she added, before brushing past him.

  * * *

  Alec wasn’t sure who was less pleased by the table arrangements in the Daniels dining room: Kate or her best friend, Elizabeth. As soon as he slid into the chair next to Kate’s, she had awkwardly inch
ed hers away by gripping the seat and jostling a bit. And Elizabeth, well, her attention was nearly solely on William, who was jovial and loud and disturbingly right at home in this cozy little house.

  Alec cracked his lobster, listening to a lively debate about a renovation of the Misty Point Lighthouse, surprised that his brother had such opinions on the matter. He’d naïvely assumed that William was only in Misty Point because of Elizabeth, possibly even missing the pace of Boston, but it seemed more and more obvious that William liked the town here, and worse, he was becoming a part of it.

  He eyed his brother thoughtfully across the table as he chewed, noticing the color in his cheeks, the bronze hue of his arms, the golden highlights in his hair. And he realized that the person he was looking at didn’t fit in well in Boston.

  Well, time to change that.

  “That lighthouse has been standing since the nineteenth century,” Jeff Jones was saying. “It’s a town mascot. A symbol of our longevity.”

  “Exactly, meaning there’s two hundred years of rot and rust to clean up. What’s wrong with sprucing the thing up a bit?” demanded Kate’s father, Frank, growing red in the face. It was clear that this was a subject of much debate, and perhaps not just at the table.

  “I like the way it looks,” William volunteered. “Whenever I think of Misty Point, I think of that lighthouse. It would be a shame if it changed. After all, that’s where I proposed.” He leaned in to plant a kiss on Elizabeth’s check. The table all but cooed, and Alec could only stare in wonder.

  “And what do you think, Alec?” Frank said as the table fell silent. All eyes were on him, waiting for an answer. Jesus, this was worse than the boardroom, Alec thought, wishing he had a tie to loosen.

  “Oh, I couldn’t say. I’m not familiar with the area. I don’t think I have much right to an opinion on the matter.”

  “Nonsense!” Jeff cried out. “Your brother is marrying my only daughter. That makes you family now.”

  Alec skirted his gaze to Elizabeth, who looked down at her plate, leaning a little closer to William, and back at her father, who was grinning happily. He chewed the lobster in his mouth, finding it had gone rubbery and cold, even though it was cooked perfectly.

 

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