The Supermodel's Best Friend

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The Supermodel's Best Friend Page 27

by Gretchen Galway


  Lucy wasn’t going to drink, not even a single glass of champagne. She had enough unruly feelings to deal with. Jealousy, loneliness, doubt, sexual frustration—a big, simmering stew of emotions she hadn’t felt since seventh grade. Liquor would only weaken her grip on herself.

  Because she refused to sink further into a pit of despair. Her best friend was so happy she glowed. Wherever the bride and groom walked, hand in hand, guests stopped talking and gazed at them with dopey smiles on their faces.

  The romance in the air was infectious. Fawn’s father, Larry, was beaming, stealing kisses from his wife at every opportunity. Geri was there with her new boyfriend, a handsome guy in his forties who looked like George Clooney and danced like Pacino in Scent of a Woman. No wonder she was hoarding condoms.

  With all that joy around her, Lucy would be happy too. Even if it killed her.

  Krista and Alex didn’t need any help being cheerful, either. Even during the photographs, they’d stuck together. Both had been eager to have one taken of just the two of them, holding hands under a rose arbor.

  The photographer was gone, but they still sat there, talking and smiling into each other’s eyes.

  Plucking a bottle of Calistoga off the bar, Lucy strode over to clear the air. They were probably going to see a lot of each other over the next… few weeks… forever?… so Lucy had better make it clear there were no hard feelings.

  “It sure is beautiful here, isn’t it?” she said as she walked up to them.

  They both looked up at the same time. Alex frowned only for a split second before smiling back at her. “It certainly is.”

  “I meant to tell you how lovely you are in pink,” Krista said. “I knew you would be.”

  “I admit I was skeptical,” Lucy said, touching her hair. “But I look fine.”

  Alex stood up. “Better than fine. Lovely, as Krista said.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek quickly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the little boy’s room. Can I get either of you anything from the bar on my way back?”

  They assured him they were fine and he left them there alone.

  “Isn’t he sensitive? Almost psychic,” Krista said, standing up. “I didn’t even have to tell him I wanted to talk to you in private.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “You are, aren’t you? Which is why I need to apologize. I was such a bitch.”

  “Oh, you were just—”

  “No, I was a bitch. I thought you were starting something special with Miles and all I could think of was my own emptiness.” She folded her lips into her mouth. “I was jealous, Lucy. Green with envy. I am so, so sorry.”

  “Oh, God, don’t cry. Krista, please.”

  But the tears already trickled down her cheeks. Lucy bent down and put her water bottle on the flagstones before putting her arms around her friend’s waist. “You goose. Nothing to cry about.”

  “And now you’re alone and I’m not and I feel so bad,” Krista said.

  Lucy released her and retrieved her water bottle. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Miles stared at you through the whole ceremony.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t know what happened, but I hope it wasn’t my fault. Anything I said.”

  Lucy sipped her water. “No, just reality crashing in.”

  “Alex—sorry, I hope you don’t mind that we talked about it—he says Miles has always run away from his problems.”

  However shit-canned her life plans were at the moment, at least she hadn’t hooked up with that guy. “Alex has always been annoying. Hope you don’t mind if I talk about it.”

  Instead of angry, Krista looked stricken. “He didn’t mean anything—”

  “Sorry. The thing is, Alex doesn’t know the whole story. Why Miles cut himself off from his family, why he dropped out of school. He could’ve put money first and sucked it up with his father, letting him pay for everything, getting a free ride through life—but he chose to be true to himself and make his own way. Helping other kids like himself in the process. He’s quite… amazing, actually.”

  Krista stared at her. “If you feel that way, why aren’t you together?”

  “He’s not the marrying type.”

  “So you do agree with Alex.”

  Lucy paused. Did she? “About this, maybe. But not in general. I can’t risk… What if we… I’ve done this before, you know? Years of waiting, being put off. Life’s too short.”

  “Lucy, life’s too short not to go for it.”

  “I’ve got to be practical.”

  “Fuck practical! Practical got you Dan! This is something different and you know it. You have real feelings for Miles. When’s that ever happened to you?”

  Unable to resist, Lucy looked over at the handsome giant in his tux. The one who saved her from zip lines and brought her Big Macs. The one who did yoga in jeans and couldn’t even bend his knees. The one who kissed her like he’d never get enough.

  To her horror, she felt tears pool in her eyes.

  Krista squeezed her wrist, stopping Lucy from hiding her face in her water bottle. “You never cried over Dan and you were with him eight years.”

  “Of course I did. I cried like crazy.”

  “Really? But you were so casual about it. I never would have thought—so, you were really torn up?”

  Uneasy with the sudden, eager look that flashed over Krista’s face, Lucy said quickly, “I wasn’t crying over Dan exactly. Just…” She trailed off, not wanting to spell out her humiliation. What if the next guy who wants to marry me is even worse? How badly will I lower my standards just to have a family?

  “The idea of him. I get that. I totally get that.” Krista laughed and tipped back a glass of champagne. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  She did. How far would Krista go with Alex just because he was there, convenient, willing?

  Suddenly, not having a real drink wasn’t going to work. When she spotted Alex returning, Lucy hugged Krista one more time and fled to the bar.

  * * *

  Gulping down his third—fourth?—glass of champagne, Miles sagged against a classical statue of a woman twice his size, trying to catch glimpses of Lucy’s feet. The string quartet was gone, replaced by an apparently famous New York DJ and dance area in a tiled corner of the courtyard.

  She’d taken off her shoes and was bouncing around with dozens of other guests who apparently didn’t mind the bride and groom’s taste in Top 40. Her toenails were the same color as her hair.

  Her hair was the same color as heaven.

  Huntley came over to him. Smiling, anxieties forgotten, the newly married man nodded at the statue. “Good thing that Amazon is there. She’s the only thing big enough to hold you up.” He held out a plate mounded over with something white on toothpicks.

  “They’ve got it all wrong. Heaven gets the fire. The color. All that”—Miles waved his free hand, bumping the plate Huntley was extending—“passion.”

  Huntley glanced back and saw the object of Miles’s gaze. “Easy, buddy. This is not the time to get stupid.”

  “Too late.” Miles tilted the glass back to his lips before holding it up to his face to confirm its emptiness. “You’d think a billionaire could afford bigger glasses. Nothing but Dixie cups in this joint.” He leaned down and propped it between the toes of the statue. Boring gray stone toes.

  Huntley leaned over to rescue the glass. “These ‘Dixie cups’ are crystal imported from Ireland as a wedding gift from my mother’s last client. She got six mil in the settlement.”

  “Figures.” Miles moved to kick the glass but was too late. He hit the statue platform instead and had to grab the stone lady’s massive knee for balance. “Getting married costs a fortune, but getting divorced gets you one.”

  “No, that costs even more.” Huntley gripped his arm and spoke in his ear. “Careful, Miles. Eye on the prize. As long as you keep playing it cool, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Little Orphan Ann—s
hit, what was that for?”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  Rubbing his shoulder where Miles had hit him, Huntley stepped back. “No more drinking until Fawn and I are out of here.” He looked over his shoulder. “I should leave Eric here to watch out for you, but I need him to get us to the airport.”

  “You will address Lucy with respect.”

  “Then again, I don’t know anybody else here who can take down an elephant with his bare hands.” Huntley sipped his own drink and looked him up and down. “Should it come to that. Just what are you so upset about again?”

  “I told her how crazy I am about her and she told me bye-bye. Unless I pop the question.”

  “Christ. Fawn warned you.”

  Miles pushed away from the statue, straightening himself up to his full height. He swayed a little, but he just needed to take a deep breath, regain his balance, and he’d be able to walk across the short distance between him and Lucy just fine. “She doesn’t need marriage. She needs love.”

  “Pound your chest again when you tell her that. Modern chicks dig that.”

  “No limits. No plans. Just two consenting adults with the guts to take it where it leads.”

  Huntley’s mocking smile fell. He looked over the crowd. “Maybe Fawn can help me rein you in. She’s worked too hard on this.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll drag her somewhere private.” He grinned. “I’ve learned my lesson. Get naked right away. Saves time and trouble. No time to waffle. Just eat waffles.”

  “My God, how much did you drink?”

  On the dance floor, Krista and Alex began to kiss like both were headed off to war.

  The pain on Lucy’s face as she watched them made Miles’s heart skip a beat. “I need to tell her again how I feel. This time so she believes me.”

  “Not the time,” Huntley insisted.

  “It’s the perfect time. Look at her! She’s so sad!”

  “Look at you! You’re so wasted!”

  Miles smoothed his hair. “She won’t mind. She needs me. I know she does.”

  “Damn. Fawn!” Huntley looked around wildly. “She’s schemed for weeks to pull this off. Don’t screw it up on her big day.”

  “She did pull it off. She’s Mrs. Huntley the Third now.”

  “Not us, you. Promise me you’ll stay here for five minutes while I go look for her. Just five. Okay? Wedding present to me?”

  “This was all her doing. Me. Lucy. You knew that?”

  “Where do you think she got the idea?”

  “You have uncharted depths.” Miles leaned down and wrapped his arms around his old friend. Then, overcome with the moment, he lifted him from the ground and squeezed. “Congratulations on the ball and chain, buddy.”

  Gasping, Huntley tried to wriggle free. “Fawn!” he cried. “Anybody!”

  Unfortunately it was Alex who heard the call for help. Breaking his lip-lock with Krista, he came over with her in tow. He pried Miles’s fingers loose. “You’re ruining his suit.”

  Miles put Huntley down and gave him a final whack on the shoulder for good measure. He deserved to be happy, the little rich dude.

  “He’s about to ruin his life,” Huntley said to Alex. “We need to keep him away from Lucy until he sobers up.”

  Alex and Krista looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t think we can interfere,” Alex said finally.

  “Hah! See there?” Miles patted Alex on the shoulder. “Finally came around, huh? Good man. First time you’ve minded your own business since I’ve met you.”

  Huntley put a hand on his other arm. “Please. Start an argument with him. Distract him. Just a few minutes until I can find Fawn so she can take over.”

  Alex stepped back and put an arm around Krista. “I don’t feel like arguing with anybody.”

  “You owe me this, Alex,” Huntley said. “The last night of my life as a single man, I wanted a burger and you made me eat seaweed. This is my price.”

  “I heard the sushi was fantastic,” Krista said.

  “He can eat there on your wedding night. Right now I need you to stop Miles from scaring the shit out of Lucy,” Huntley said.

  Miles grinned and patted his chest. “Too late.” He turned his attention to Alex and Krista. Handsome couple. Easy to be happy for them, too. He could forgive them for publicly displaying their affection. Though it might make Lucy a little depressed to face the obvious collapse of her theoretical engagement, he’d be right there comforting her. Like, soon. With his body.

  That was his mistake yesterday; he should’ve seduced her first. Wore out her defenses. She was a passionate creature, a woman with needs. He’d exploit every weakness to get through to her.

  “I’m sorry, Huntley,” Alex said as Miles strode past him. Lucy’s bright head had disappeared in the crowd. “I can go look for Fawn if you like.”

  Miles didn’t hear whatever was said after that.

  She was only ten feet away. Her back was to him, but there was no mistaking the red curls. Her hourglass shape. The fantastic ass. He recognized a mole on her left shoulder, delightfully exposed by the open neckline of her bridesmaid dress. She’d giggled when he kissed her there that night in the B&B.

  The cravings in his heart, inflamed by other more earthy feelings, became a physical ache. He needed to get her alone.

  She was dancing with a touchy-feely jerk with big teeth. Miles fisted his hands. You weren’t supposed to grope your dance partner during Top 40. Lady Gaga wasn’t a fucking waltz.

  He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

  “Hey!” The guy flinched under the contact, as if Miles had broken his collarbone.

  What a wimp. Miles bit back a smile. “May I cut in?”

  The guy frowned. “What?”

  “It’s not that kind of dance,” Lucy said.

  He hooked an arm around her waist and swept her up against him. “It is now.” Ah, that was better. He ducked his head to smell her hair. So right, so nice. He didn’t move his feet. Not everyone was a dancer.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He ran his hand down her back, savoring her curves. “Lucy.”

  “That’s me,” she muttered into his chest.

  He nibbled her ear. Licked the pearls along the lobe.

  She jerked free, glancing around at the crowd. “How much did you have to drink?”

  “Why is everyone so interested in my fluid intake?”

  “Gee, I wonder.” She gave an apologetic smile to the guy with big teeth before walking away from both of them. With a single glance over her shoulder at Miles that he couldn’t read, but set his heart pounding.

  She’s afraid to admit how much she wants you.

  “You look like you need company,” a silky voice said in his ear as a hand slipped under his jacket. “What’s the matter, Miles, didn’t she want to keep you either?”

  Distracted by Lucy, Miles hadn’t seen her coming. Her heat-seeking, pointy fingers twisted under his cummerbund like an invasive plant. Even with him swatting at her skinny arms, she just wiggled closer.

  “Not now, Heather.”

  She went up on her toes. “Good point. Too many witnesses. Tonight then?”

  She had to be kidding. Or deranged. They were surrounded by all kinds of people she probably knew through her marriage or her shallow, plastic, manipulative life. Holding himself as still as a rock—or as close to it as he could get, given how buzzed he was—Miles let her paw and squeeze him while he did nothing at all.

  She just wants the attention. Being with children all day had taught him a lot. Some people just wanted to get a rise out of you. What they hated most was to be ignored.

  So he stared off into space and mustered up a yawn while Heather felt him up. Even when her bony pelvis began rubbing up against his hip.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t work. She kept at it, even moving her hand down to squeeze his ass. “I’m so glad you’ve stopped fighting it, sweetie,” she purred.
r />   She was a bully. A tease. Somebody should call her bluff.

  He grabbed the hand on his butt and pressed it down on his cock. When she tried to pull away, he mashed his mouth against hers.

  She went rigid underneath him, not enjoying his play at all. He released her with a sense of triumph.

  But then he saw his father’s face across the dance floor. Lips in a flat line, his eyes wide, Alan Girard stared at his wife and son groping each other and didn’t move. As still as the archway over his head.

  And then turned and walked away.

  * * *

  Lucy saw Miles’s father walk past the DJ onto the gravel path that led to the garden. The anguish on his face was clear from the other side of the dance floor.

  She went after him. What had Miles been thinking? Pushed too far, apparently. Lucy saw the way Heather had attacked him. Obvious to everyone around that her come-on was unwanted. More a parody than anything.

  And yet… Lucy had felt jealous. Even knowing how Miles felt about his stepmother, knowing he would’ve rather punched the lady than kissed her, she felt jealous.

  How can you throw me away?

  She ran after Alan Girard, telling herself she had an idea of how he was hurting. If Miles had been off his rocker enough to kiss Heather, God knew what he might say to his father. And at this moment, it would ruin everything between them.

  “Mr. Girard!” she called.

  He was stepping onto a brick-in-sand path toward a formal herb garden. Rosemary and lavender were clipped into short, overlapping rectangles, punctuated with globes of boxwood every few feet.

  He turned around, frowning. Then he seemed to recognize her, because he sighed and ducked his head. “Excuse me. I’m not feeling well. I just need a moment alone.”

  “Forgive me, but—it wasn’t what you think. It was all… for show. Not what it seemed.”

  He smiled tightly. “Lucy, right?”

  She nodded.

  “It was exactly what I think,” he said.

  “No, please. Listen. It means so much to him that you… believe him. He wants you in his life.”

  He just stared down at her.

  It may have been wrong for her to intrude, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. If anything she said could help Miles reconnect with his dad, she had to try. “Please give him a chance to explain. Don’t let—” She stopped herself, not wanting to attack a person’s spouse, no matter how loathsome. “Don’t let another decade go by without talking to one another.”

 

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