Two Wrongs Make a Right

by Ann Everett

  At seven o’clock the next morning, after her daily bout with her face in the commode, she started a pot of coffee and checked the street for Dak’s car. Probably as anxious as she to get the meeting over, he might come early. She doubted he’d slept much either. Last night, the color in his cheeks told her his blood pressure hovered at a dangerous level.

  Thirty minutes later, he parked in the drive. Through one skinny slit in the blind, she spied on him and a woman as they got out of the car and strolled up the walk. Not waiting for him to knock, she swung the door wide. The early morning light filtered through his hair as if back-lit for a photo shoot. Her chest tightened since a picture had condemned her.

  “Good morning.” She turned to the woman. “I’m Quinn Dorsey, please come in.”

  The woman offered her hand. “Simona Hayes. Dak’s sister.”

  “And my attorney.” He added without an ounce of kindness.

  A lawyer, huh? Convenient. Quinn accepted her sister-to-be’s hand, then closed the door and wondered what he meant by the surly announcement. Was that his subtle way of alluding to a custody battle once the marriage ended? There’d be no reason for that. She’d made it clear she’d work with him. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” Simona cut her eyes to her brother then back. “Both of us. Black. And thank you.”

  Motioning for them to sit, she went to pour the brew. Once in the kitchen, she leaned on the counter for support, and fought another wave of nausea. Oh how she hated the sickness and hoped it had passed, but her stomach clenched. Covering her mouth, she ran through to the bathroom, barely making it in time. After retching, and brushing her teeth, she returned to the living room.

  His sister had already gotten the coffee.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. I have two girls and hated morning sickness. But you’re in the second trimester, right? It should be over by now.”

  “So they say, but lucky me, I’m still puking my guts up.”

  Ending the small talk, Dak got right to business. “We’ll get a marriage license today. Tomorrow, we’ll meet each other’s parents. Then, we’ll have the ceremony Saturday at my house on the back deck. Sim will go with you later to buy a dress and anything else you need.”

  From his tone, Quinn decided any challenge to be unnecessary. Although he needed her, she didn’t want to take a chance on putting Megan’s job at risk. She had enough going on already with the buyout and having to work with Dak every day. “Okay.”

  He looked around, then at Quinn. The temperature in the room dropped. “Sim, give her the pre-nup and tape.”

  His sister reached into her bag, pulled out a document, and a blue roll then passed them to Quinn.

  Pulling a pen from his shirt pocket, he held it toward her. “Sign the agreement. Use the tape to mark all the furniture you want to keep so the movers will know what to take and what to leave behind.” Then his eyes traveled beyond her and she followed his gaze. Lucy crouched under the kitchen table.

  “You have a cat?”

  “Two, but I’ve made arrangements for my friend to take them.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at it. Turning, she placed the paper on the side table and scribbled, then handed it back.

  Before folding and sticking it in his pocket, he scrutinized her signature. Probably wanted to make sure she’d signed her real name and not Molly Harper. Couldn’t blame him. He was totally entitled to doubt her.

  As if on cue, Raynie breezed in without knocking and flitted to where they sat. Bangles clinked as she stuck out her hand toward Simona. “Hi, I’m Raynebeaux Starr.”

  Dak laughed and repeated. “Raynebeaux Starr?” Then his smile faded and he narrowed his eyes at his future bride. “Don’t even think about naming our baby something weird.”

  Coming from hippy parents, the name fit her friend, who smirked. “Says the guy named Dak. What the hell kind of name is that?”

  He didn’t even acknowledge her comment, just glared, and Quinn knew she was in deep-shit. Not only was he pissed at her and Megan, now he didn’t like Raynie either. Great. There’s that damn trifecta again.

  Simona chuckled then focused on the new visitor. “Would you care to accompany us? We’re shopping for a wedding dress today.”

  “Oooo, I’d love to.” Then she looked at Quinn. “Do I have time to take Lucy and Ethel to my place before we go?”

  “Why don’t I help you with the cats while the bride and groom get the marriage license? We can meet up at city hall and pick Quinn up there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Just before lunch, her future sister and best friend swept into Blissful Boutique ahead of her, the two of them obviously excited to be there. Simona leaned close to Quinn. “Now, don’t even consider cost. Dak is paying, so don’t settle for a dress you don’t love because of price.”

  Giving her some privacy, Raynie walked ahead and shuffled through a rack.

  “I don’t expect him to do that. I can’t let him.”

  “Oh yes, you certainly can. This is his idea. It’s your wedding and you should have a beautiful dress and feel like a princess. Truly, you heard him. Take advantage of his offer.”

  “Cups, swords, and wands! Come look at this dress. It’s perfect.”

  Thankful to end the conversation, Quinn headed for the rack as her friend lifted the hanger and spread the gorgeous gown before her. A hand to her throat. “Lord Jesus. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” She went straight for the price tag. “I can’t afford this. Put it back.”

  Without hesitation, Simona palmed the tag. “Dak can, easily, I assure you. Try it on.”

  “Oh no. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll want it, and I can’t let him spend this much. Maybe if it was a real marriage, but not for a fake one.”

  The saleslady’s face went blank then puzzled. Simona took the hanger and shoved it toward her. “Like your friend said, it’s perfect. Truly, I insist. You’ll be beautiful in it. I may not know you well yet, but enough to know this is just your style. Try it. Please.”

  Running her hand over layers of chiffon, she waivered. “I guess it won’t hurt to see it on. But we’re not buying it.”

  “I’ll help you,” the clerk said.

  Within a few minutes, Quinn left the oversized dressing room wearing the vintage inspired dress. The asymmetrical hemline floated as she moved. Embroidery and ruching detail skimmed her mid-section. Cap sleeves hung in soft gathers while the scooped neckline rested just above her cleavage. Standing before the bank of mirrors, she twirled. Sheer fabric as delicate as the baby she carried, fluttered.

  “You simply must have this dress.” Simona held her chin as though studying the Cinderella ball gown. “It’s made for you. I mean it. It’s yours.”

  “It is lovely.” The saleslady pinched some of the fabric in her fingers. “A slight alteration here, don’t you think? We’ll be happy to do that for you, today. And it will be perfection.”

  “I don’t think it needs anything, Girlfriend, it’s you.”

  “I do love it. It’s so romantic. But I can’t. I don’t deserve it. I’ll pick out something within my budget.”

  Facing the saleswoman with a smile, Simona retrieved her checkbook. “We’re getting the dress.” She turned to Quinn. “Listen to me, my brother didn’t set a limit, and real or not, it is your wedding day. You’re marrying your child’s father. That makes it special. If it turns out you’re having a girl, you can pass the dress to her. Even Dak won’t be able to argue with that logic. Besides, if he says anything, I’ll tell him I decided. Now, let’s check out a veil.”

  The consultant stepped forward. “Yes, ma’am. I have just the thing. Follow me.” She walked behind a counter and took an item from a glass case. “Unless you want one that covers your face, this will be lovely with that style. The halo of flowers is pure silk and hand painted. Don’t you love the subtle palette? Ivory, white, blush, and peach will be gorgeous
with your dress. And the veil is trimmed in French Chantilly. Sit here in front of the mirror and let me put it on you.”

  “Ooh-la-la.” Raynie reached toward Quinn’s hair. “Let’s take down your ponytail.” She slipped off the band and ran her fingers through the strands to fluff it.

  With the headpiece positioned, she stared into the mirror and lost her breath. Tears popped out to fill her eyes. She looked like a bride. And that broke her heart because it was another lie.

  ~~*~~

  Dak was finishing his third whiskey when Sim rushed in, a shopping bag in each hand. “You get everything taken care of?”

  “Well of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?” She set her purchases on the bar. “Dress. Veil. Cake. Even did a little shopping for myself. I deserve a new frock for my brother’s wedding. Got you something, too.” She reached into the bag and handed him a book.

  He stared at it. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting. What the hell?”

  “Read it, and you’ll know how the baby is developing at every stage, and some of the changes Quinn will go through.”

  “Like I give a shit.”

  “Oh, my dear half-drunk brother. You may fool her, but you cannot fool me. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think nobody is looking at you.”

  “That’s your imagination.”

  “Afraid not. I know the real reason you insisted on marriage, and it hasn’t got a thing to do with your job.”

  “You’re crazy. I’m doing this for the baby. He needs a father.”

  “Oh, so now it’s a he?”

  “You know what I mean. It’s natural to call it a boy. If it’s a girl, fine.”

  She strolled to the sofa, and he followed. Kicking out of her shoes, she propped her feet on the coffee table. “After I parted company with your betrothed and that strange but sweet friend of hers, I stopped by the florist. They’ll be here Saturday morning to decorate. The refreshments will arrive at the same time. What size ring do you wear? Thirteen?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Brother, brother, brother. A wedding band. Anyway, that’s the size I told her.”

  He frowned.

  “What? You do plan to wear a ring, don’t you? The old guy you’re trying to impress will expect one.” She pulled a folded wad of papers from her pocket. “Here are the receipts for everything we bought. Don’t forget to transfer the money into my account.” She passed the vouchers to him.

  He shuffled the tickets. “Holy shit! She bought a dress and veil that cost almost three thousand dollars?”

  “That’s cheap. And no, she didn’t, but I did. She loved it, but wasn’t willing to spend that much of your money, but like I told her, you gave no restrictions, so little brother, if you want a wedding, I’m giving you a wedding.” She stood and walked to the back door. “Guests will sit on both sides of the deck. Quinn will enter from the steps at the end of the porch. That way, she’ll have a small aisle to walk down. Wait until you see her. She’s so stunning in the gown, I promise you’ll enjoy the view.”

  He continued to stare. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do, and not only because she’s having your baby. She’s very nice. Mom and Dad will love her. They’ll be so surprised.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Only that they couldn’t have ever expected for you to end up with a woman like her.”

  “You mean a self-centered bitch who thinks only of herself.”

  “Hey! Show a little respect. She’s having your baby.”

  Yeah, she carried his child alright—by default. She’d wanted a kid with Justin and that pissed him off. He needed another whiskey.

  “When are you moving her furniture and stuff?”

  Sim’s voice knocked him from his thoughts. “November’s rent’s paid, so we have all month. I’ll call the moving company next week. From the looks of what I saw, I can’t imagine her wanting to keep much of it.”

  “Well, that brings me to my next question. You have one bed. Where is she going to sleep?”

  Dak turned and faced her. “Where a wife should. With her husband.”

  Sim grinned and crossed her arms. “I rest my case.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Quinn spent most of the morning packing and marking furniture items. Instead of Dak saying her furnishings weren’t worth moving, he’d left the choices up to her. Clearly, he was a man who knew how to deal with people.

  Last night she’d offered to get a ride so he wouldn’t have to come into Austin, and then drive back to his parents’ home, but he didn’t agree. Said it would look odd to make his bride come with someone else.

  His tone told her he had a scowl on his face. Not wanting to aggravate him, she consented. If she didn’t challenge him on anything, they might at least be amicable to one another.

  When he arrived at her apartment, she followed as he walked through and looked at the marked items. “My dad will come and get the things I don’t want,” she said.

  “Looks like that will be most of it.”

  “Well, your house is so beautiful, my stuff won’t fit in.”

  “I’ll call the moving company and tell them to bring a small truck. You ready to go?”

  Her chest tightened. He’d made no idle conversation since arriving. She decided to fish. “Do I look all right?”

  He eyed her from top to bottom and for a moment she’d seen a flicker of something in his eyes. Approval? Affection? She wasn’t sure. Whatever it was disappeared, and his expression went cold again.

  “Fine.”

  Once they got in the car and headed out of town, keeping his eyes on the road and his tone icy, he laid some ground rules. “Nobody knows the circumstances of our situation other than Sim, and I want to keep it that way. I’ve taken the blame. Said I’ve known about the baby for months, but took a while to decide on marriage. As far as my parents are concerned, we’re in love, so I expect you to act like it.”

  That might not be difficult. When she was near him, things happened. Places jittered and jumped. Tightened and tingled. Flamed and fluttered. She gave him her attention again. He continued to spout instructions.

  “Your wedding band is a family ring. My mother may mention that, so I want you to be prepared. You should gush over it. With your acting skills, it shouldn’t be hard.”

  Quinn’s breath caught against the knot that’d formed in her throat. “I can’t do that.” The statement came out as a weak whisper.

  He glared at her. “It’s a little late for you to develop a moral code about lying, don’t you think?”

  She wagged her head. “It isn’t right. If it’s been passed down from generation to generation, you should give it to a woman you truly love.”

  He chuckled without humor. “Given your casual relationship with the truth, one more lie shouldn’t matter.”

  Tears threatened, but she held them back. Hope of civil companionship evaporated. She’d take the ring, but not wear it. Use the excuse of swollen fingers. A family treasure should go to the love of his life, not the liar of his life.

  Dak pulled into the drive. “Stay in the car until I come around and open the door for you.”

  When he helped her out, he slipped his arm around her, and pulled her close as if they were a real couple. Forget her. He should be nominated for an Academy Award.

  Quinn’s knees weakened, and she stumbled. He tightened his grip. “Are you okay?” The question sounded sincere. He was taking the performance to the max. They stepped onto the porch, but before he reached for the knob, the door flew open, and a bright-eyed older version of Simona grabbed them in a hug.

  “Come in! Come in!” She loosened her hold and backed away for a better look. “Quinn! I’m thrilled to meet you.” Then her eyes drifted. “May I touch my grandbaby?”

  “Sure.”

  Mr. Savage joined his wife. With the same green eyes, he wasn’t as tall as Dak, but just as handsome. Her future mother-in-law laid her hand on the baby
bump, and rubbed as if a genie might appear, then looked up with tears brimming. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made us. We’ve waited a long time for Dak to fall in love and settle down.” Then she leaned into Dak and he embraced her.

  “Okay, Mom. Don’t cry. Quinn’s doing enough of that for both of you.”

  Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the tears. He sounded so natural. Not a single syllable of disgust. The key to her happiness was to keep his mom or dad with her at all times.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Savage, Mr. Savage.”

  The older man shook his head. “Call me Bucky.”

  “And I’m Bitsy. You might as well get used to it because that’s what your baby will call us.” She patted Quinn’s belly again.

  The door opened, and Simona and her crew came in. Her two girls circled Quinn. “Can we call you Aunt Quinn?”

  “I’d like that. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Rachel, and this is my baby sister, Hannah.”

  “I’m not a baby! I’m eight years old. You’re only nine, so don’t call me that!”

  “Hey, you two, cool it,” their dad said, then turned to Quinn. “We haven’t been introduced, but I feel like I already know you. I’m Ben.”

  Ah, Ben the photographer. The one responsible for my demise. “Nice to meet you.”

  After a few minutes, the girls ran outside, the men went to watch TV, and left Quinn alone with Simona and Bitsy in the kitchen.

  “Sim tells me your dress is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see it. Dak is so nervous.” She looked at her daughter. “Can you tell he’s nervous?”

  “Yeah. A little.” She cut her eyes over to Quinn and smiled.

  “If y’all will help me get this food on the table, we’ll be ready to eat. Have you considered names for the baby?” Bitsy handed both women a bowl, took a platter for herself, and headed to the dining room. They followed.