The Best Man's Plan (Special Edition)

by Gina Wilkins

  “A bowling team?”

  He shrugged. “Just an example.”

  “No, I don’t belong to a bowling team.”

  “No upcoming parties? Club meetings? Business-related social functions?”

  She kept her gaze focused on her coffee. “My calendar is fairly clear at the moment. I’m open to your suggestions about things we can do together.”

  He had plenty of suggestions, but he doubted that many of them would appeal to her at the moment. Since she seemed to have no intention of voluntarily sharing her life with him, it looked as though it was up to him to keep trying to come up with ideas. “What do you like to do for fun? If not bowling, I mean.”

  She shrugged. “Lots of things. Nothing in particular.”

  She was one of the most elusive women he had ever met. Getting a straight answer from her was like trying to grab a handful of smoke. “I know you work Saturday, but are you free Sunday?”

  “I can be.”

  He nodded. “Then I’ll pick you up Sunday morning around ten o’clock. Dress very casually. Comfortably.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He hadn’t a clue—but he was sure he would come up with something. “I’ll surprise you.”

  If she had looked nervous before, she appeared doubly so now. “Um…”

  He flashed her a grin. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Not as far as I can throw you,” she answered without hesitation.

  He laughed and set his empty mug aside. “It’s getting late. I’d better go.”

  She sprang to her feet and hurried to the door as if anxious to see him out. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

  “You could try to sound a little more enthusiastic,” he said as he moved toward her.

  “I said I would cooperate with this plan, and I will. You think we should be seen together a few more times for Chloe and Donovan’s sake. I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Very noble and self-sacrificing of you.”

  A light blush tinted her fair cheeks. “There’s no reason for you to make fun of me.”

  “I’m only teasing.” He paused in front of her to stroke her flushed cheek with his fingertips. “Chloe is very lucky to have you for a sister.”

  Her color deepened. “She would do the same for me.”

  “Yes, I know. You’re lucky to have each other.”

  “You’re doing all this for Donovan,” she reminded him.

  “Of course. But it hasn’t really been such a hardship for me to spend time with you. I’ve enjoyed it, actually.”

  The compliment only made her frown deepen. “Um…thank you. I guess.”

  Shaking his head, he feigned a sigh. “Even if you are rough on my ego,” he added in a mutter.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Bolstering your ego was not part of the deal.”

  “True. But you can’t blame a guy for wishing.”

  She put a hand on the doorknob. “Good night, Bryan.”

  He slid his hand around to her nape, leaning closer to her.

  He didn’t manage to catch her off guard this time. She jumped away from him as if she were avoiding an electric shock, her scowl warning him off. “There’s no one watching us now. That isn’t necessary.”

  “Practice?” he suggested hopefully.

  She shook her head. “You hardly need any practice.”

  Giving her a resigned smile, he said, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks.”

  She opened the door. “Go away, Bryan. You’re giving me a headache.”

  “You’d better stock up on aspirin. I’m going to be around for a while.”

  As her door closed behind him, he thought he heard her mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  He was chuckling when he headed for the elevator—and looking forward to Sunday.

  “…and I thought Mother was going to hyperventilate when Mrs. Cochran said a conflict had come up for the photographer on the day of the wedding. Honestly, you would think Mother was the bride. I said, ‘Mom, calm down. There are plenty of other photographers.’ And she said, ‘Yes, but he’s the best and we want the best.’ So I… Grace, are you listening? Grace?”

  The sound of her own name brought Grace out of her thoughts. Realizing that she’d been standing in the same spot for quite a while, a palm-sized, brass-framed mirror in her hand, she set the mirror on a shelf and said, “I’m listening. You said you aren’t going to get to use the photographer you wanted?”

  Chloe shook her head. “That’s the part I was about to tell you. The conflict was settled and everything worked out.”

  “Oh. That’s great.”

  “I can tell you’re beside yourself with excitement.” Chloe set a feather duster on the sales counter and moved to stand in front of her twin, her hands planted on her hips. “What’s going on, Grace?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that. Something’s been bothering you all day. Did anything happen between you and Bryan last night?”

  Busying herself with making sure the Closed sign was in place and the front door was securely locked, Grace answered gruffly, “Everything was fine last night. We danced a lot. You know I enjoy dancing.”

  “Well, yes. And Bryan’s a wonderful dancer.”

  Grace looked over her shoulder. “You’ve danced with him?”

  “He took me dancing a couple of times when we were…well, you know.”

  “Dating,” Grace supplied in a mutter.

  “Spending time together,” Chloe corrected. “Before I met Donovan, of course.”

  Grace didn’t need to be reminded that the main reason Chloe and Bryan had stopped “spending time together” was that Chloe had fallen in love with someone else. Bryan would probably be quite content to still be dancing with Chloe.

  Grace was well aware that she was a temporary substitute in Bryan’s life. After the wedding, she and Bryan would go their own ways, seeing each other only occasionally through their connection to Chloe and Donovan. Bryan would soon find another dance partner, another suitable prospect for that wife-and-mother position he was looking to fill. As for Grace…

  She tugged at the collar of her linen blouse, feeling it tighten again. She would be fine, she assured herself. She had a life of her own. Maybe she needed to keep that in mind more often, instead of spending so much time lately thinking about…well, other things.

  Chloe was still watching her. “I heard you met Bryan’s parents last night.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Had Bryan paid another visit to Chloe while Grace was out of the store for a few minutes earlier?

  “Donovan told me. Bryan mentioned to him that his parents made an unexpected appearance at the fund-raiser last night. Donovan asked me if you’d talked about meeting them.”

  “I guess they slipped my mind.”

  “What are they like? I never met them, you know.”

  Grace walked toward their office with Chloe close at her heels. “They seemed pleasant enough, I suppose.”

  “Donovan hasn’t told me much about them, but I can tell he isn’t particularly fond of them. He seems to like Mrs. Falcon better than Mr. Falcon, though.”

  “Mr. Falcon did seem a bit more…aloof.” Except when he had danced with another man’s wife, she thought cattily.

  “How did Bryan react to them? Did he seem glad to see them?”

  “I couldn’t say, really. They seem to have a very polite, almost formal relationship. Very different from our bond with our parents.”

  “Donovan lost his parents early, you know. He thinks of Bryan as a brother, but he’s never considered the Falcons surrogate parents. He’s never said so, but I get the impression that they consider him a bit beneath them socially. They seem to treat him more as Bryan’s employee than his best friend—or at least that’s the impression I’ve gotten on the rare occasions when he has spoken of them.”

  Remembering the way the Falcons had taken pains to spend time with the wealthiest and most influ
ential guests at the fund-raiser, Grace didn’t doubt that they were snobs. “At least he doesn’t have to worry about that with our folks. Mom and Dad already think the world of him.”

  “And he them. He was a bit overwhelmed at first by the way they welcomed him into the family like a long-lost son, but he’s getting used to it. Actually I think he’s getting a bit spoiled to Mother’s fussing and Dad’s attention. I think it’s very sweet the way he responds to them. I don’t believe even Donovan knew how hungry he was for a family.”

  Chloe, of course, was charmed by everything her fiancé did. But Grace had also found it rather touching the way tough, reserved, emotionally awkward Donovan was beginning to respond to her family’s demonstrative affection. She couldn’t help feeling rather sorry for Bryan, who had grown up the only child of parents who regularly indulged in “discreet dalliances,” and who equated monetary gifts with parental affection.

  She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. Had she just found herself feeling sorry for Bryan Falcon? A man who had everything—wealth, looks, intelligence, charm, influence? Maybe he hadn’t found a bride who suited him yet, but she had no doubt that was only a matter of time. Bryan could have just about any woman he wanted—with the exception of the Pennington sisters, of course, she added hastily.

  He would have little trouble finding someone willing to change herself into anything he wanted in exchange for the privilege of becoming Mrs. Bryan Falcon.

  “Is something wrong with your blouse?” Chloe asked. “You keep pulling at the collar.”

  “I, um, think it must have shrunk the last time it was cleaned. Feels tight.”

  “It doesn’t look too small. Anyway…would you like to join Donovan and me for dinner and a movie tonight? He wants to get away from wedding plans for a few hours. He’s picking me up here.”

  Spending an evening as a third wheel on a date with the lovebirds? “Thanks, but I have other plans for the evening.”

  “Oh? Are you seeing Bryan tonight?”

  “No, he and I have plans for tomorrow—at least, he has plans. I’m just going along as a prop.”

  “Should I remind you again that you can call a halt to this anytime you like?”

  “No reminders necessary.”

  Chloe spent the next few minutes straightening her already-immaculate desk. Grace made a halfhearted, distracted attempt to bring some order to her own. Donovan arrived, and Chloe left with him after Grace offered to lock up and set the security alarms.

  Donovan seemed a bit hesitant about leaving her there alone, but she reminded him dryly that she was hardly ever alone these days. She rarely saw Bryan’s security people, but she knew they were usually hovering somewhere in the background. She doubted they hung around twenty-four hours a day, but she would bet someone usually made sure she arrived home safely after work. She was growing accustomed to an itchy, nagging feeling of being watched by unseen eyes—but she hadn’t learned to like it.

  Her plans for the evening did not include a bodyguard.

  She made two stops on her roundabout trip home—a video store and the drive-through takeout window of a Chinese restaurant. She wanted to give every indication of a woman who planned to spend her Saturday night alone with egg rolls and Antonio Banderas.

  Back at her apartment, she ate the egg rolls, washed them down with a diet cola, then changed from her work clothes into a skimpy, scoop-neck T-shirt and low-riding jeans. A round brush and a curling iron changed her sleek bob into a more rumpled, younger-looking hairstyle, and sultry makeup altered her usual, everyday appearance.

  Satisfied that she looked different from the responsible, practical businesswoman who reported to work every day, she slipped out of her apartment. She knew this building very well; there were ways to get out that wouldn’t be expected by anyone who’d grown used to her usual routines.

  There were times when Grace simply had to escape the imaginary cage she lived in for most of her life.

  Chapter Six

  The last time Bryan had been this anxious was when Chloe and Donovan were kidnapped a few months earlier. The hours had passed with excruciating slowness during that ordeal when he hadn’t known the whereabouts of his friends, or if he would ever see them again. This evening seemed to creep by just as slowly while he paced Grace’s apartment, wondering where the hell she had gone.

  When he’d phoned Chloe immediately after being notified that Grace was missing, she had downplayed his fears. She had assured him that slipping off for a few hours—or even for a few days—was nothing new for Grace. She had been doing so on an irregular and unpredictable basis since she’d finished college. She didn’t even tell Chloe where she went during those absences, only that sometimes she just had to “escape the cage,” whatever that meant.

  Bryan’s concerns had not been assuaged by that information. “You think she deliberately gave my security guy the slip? Even though she’s well aware of the reason for the extra precautions at present?”

  “I think that’s exactly what she did,” Chloe had answered, her tone resigned. “I thought she acted a little funny earlier when I asked if she wanted to spend the evening with Donovan and me. She was very evasive about her plans. I should have realized then that she was up to something.”

  “You have no suggestions of where to look for her?”

  “I’m afraid not. Besides, she would be livid if we track her down when she wants to be left alone.”

  “I’m not really worried about annoying her right now. I’m more concerned about her safety.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine, Bryan. She just needed some time to herself. The past few weeks haven’t been easy for her.”

  She spoke confidently about Grace’s safety, but Bryan thought he heard just a hint of anxiety in her voice. Chloe, of all people, knew the risks of being publicly involved with a multimillionaire. The very wealthy always had to be mindful of security, and as long as the mastermind behind the earlier kidnapping was at large, there was added reason for Grace to be careful. The chances were slim that Childers would risk pulling the same criminal stunt a second time, but Bryan considered the possibility just credible enough to warrant extra precautions. Wandering off at night on her own without telling anyone her whereabouts was no way for Grace to cooperate.

  “I’m going to wait at her apartment while Jason and his men look for her,” he announced abruptly into the phone.

  Chloe made no effort to hide the reservation in her voice. “She won’t like that.”

  He was already moving toward his door, his car keys in the hand that wasn’t clutching the wireless phone. “Tough. You want me to call you when we find her?”

  “Please. No matter what hour it is. Even though I’m sure she’s fine.”

  If Grace really had deliberately shaken the bodyguard he’d assigned to her just to prove she could, she wouldn’t be fine by the time Bryan finished with her. She would have several strips of hide missing—at least figuratively.

  He just hoped he would have the opportunity to yell at her.

  Two hours after completing that phone call, he prowled the few rooms of Grace’s apartment, his temper increasing in direct proportion to his concern. It was after 1:00 a.m.; where the hell was she?

  More to the point, who was with her?

  Needing to do something at least semiproductive, he pushed the send button on his phone, which redialed the last number he’d called only twenty minutes earlier. Jason Colby, head of security for Bryan Falcon Enterprises, answered on the first ring.

  “I still haven’t found her,” Colby said without waiting for his employer to identify himself.

  Bryan knew Jason was impatient with this assignment. Bryan had pulled his security chief off another project as soon as he’d been notified that Grace was missing. Jason had suggested that his subordinates could look for Bryan’s AWOL faux-girlfriend. Bryan had suggested in return that Jason could look for another job—a threat that was only partially bluff.

  Jason had take
n over the search for Grace without further protest—as Bryan had known he would.

  After being updated on the details of the search, Bryan ordered Jason to keep looking, then disconnected and resumed his pacing. He was tempted to call the local authorities and ask for assistance—an APB on Grace’s car, maybe—but he knew that wasn’t warranted at this point. Grace had only been gone for a few hours, and there was no evidence that she hadn’t simply taken off on her own.

  He had an equally strong urge to go out looking for her himself. But his place was here, coordinating the search from behind the scenes. Here, where he would be on hand to greet her if—when—she wandered back in. And that had damned well better be soon, he thought, tossing the phone on the couch in a fit of pique.

  He snatched it up again when it rang half an hour earlier. “What?”

  “We’ve found her car,” Jason announced.

  “Where?”

  “She’s driving it into her parking space right now.”

  “Do you know where she’s been?”

  “No. I just spotted her a couple of blocks from here and followed her back. Want me to escort her up?”

  “No. Stay around until she gets into the elevator, then head back to your place for some rest. Send everyone else home, as well. Have the guard back at the usual time in the morning. She won’t be going out again tonight.”

  “Right. I’ll talk to you later, then. And, uh, boss—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep that temper of yours under control, okay? You don’t want to end up behind bars for disturbing the peace.”

  “I won’t yell,” Bryan replied stiffly. He was fully capable of expressing his displeasure without raising his voice.

  He heard Grace’s key in the lock less than five minutes later. He waited in the center of the room, his feet spread, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face. Grace had taken only a couple of steps into her apartment, swinging the door closed behind her, when she spotted him.

  She gasped loudly and dropped her purse and keys, both of which landed noisily on the hardwood floor at her feet. “Jeez, Bryan, you nearly gave me a heart attack. What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”