“Um...” I sat a little straighter and met each stare one at a time. “As you all know,” I cleared my throat. “I moved in with Nate a couple weeks ago.”
“Yeah, but you're only in town for the wedding right?” Bridget asked. “Just a temporary thing?”
“No. I left my job in Paris. I'm back in Webster Grove... probably for good.”
The group began hounding me with questions.
Cal raised his voice and quieted the room. “No, no, no,” he said. “Anything else?”
I looked down and stared at the ring on my finger. “Nope, nothing else to share--”
“Steph is getting married!” Cal blurted to the rest of the group.
“What?” Nick asked with wide eyes.
“Steph! That's wonderful!” Bridget squealed.
“Congrats, sis,” Isaac winked.
“Can I be your flower girl?” Gracie asked.
“Why didn't you say something?” Nick chimed in again.
“Calm down,” Nate said, squeezing my hand. “We didn't want to tell anyone until after Isaac and Bridget were happily married and their wedding was far in the past. Steph and I thought that our relationship would come as a shock to all of you, and we agreed it was best to wait. Let's just focus on one engagement at a time--”
“Whoa, now,” Miss Bryan said, staring at her son. “You're engaged to Steph?”
Nate smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “What can I say mom? Any man would be lucky to have her--”
“I guess I'm confused,” Nick said. “I thought you were... um...”
“Gay?” Nate asked. “Well, yes.”
“Thanks for trying Nate,” I said sincerely, taking over. I turned to the rest of the group. “Yes, I'm engaged, and no, I didn't want to tell you guys until after the wedding.”
“Why did you confide in Calvin before telling me?” Nick asked, trying to hide the hurt in his eyes.
“I never mentioned the engagement to Cal,” I said. “Nate is the only person I--”
“Alex told me,” Cal chimed in. “He actually called to yell at me for not telling him before he made an idiot of himself in front of you.”
The room quieted to a dead silence. Even my family was still unsure of how to act when Alex's name was mentioned.
“Well, I hope he's not mad at you,” I finally said. “Especially since you didn't know.”
“Eh, he'll get over it,” Cal said. “So, who's ready for dessert?”
“I'll help,” I said, standing up and following him into the kitchen. Once we were alone I turned and smacked him across the back of the head. “You jerk! Why would you do that?”
He smiled and ignored the slap as he started slicing a pie. “Our little girl is all grown up--”
“Cal,” I whined. “I wasn't ready to tell anyone.”
“Bridget and Isaac don't care,” he assured me. “They're happy for you.”
“Not because of them,” I spat. “I just wasn't ready.”
“Too late now,” he said, still smiling.
“How can you be so nonchalant when I'm standing inches away from your sharpest knives and I'm angry enough to stab you?”
The doorbell rang and he dropped his knife. “Saved by the bell.” He disappeared from the kitchen and into the foyer.
I continued to slice where he left off and placed individual pieces of his famous apple pie on the dessert plates.
“Steph,” Cal said, poking his head in. “Can you drop what you're doing for just a sec and come here?”
I put the utensil aside and followed him out. Alex stood at the door with his hands crossed in front of him. He barely made eye contact before mumbling something incoherently.
“What?”
“Can we...” he drifted into another mumbled slur.
“You want to talk?”
He nodded.
I looked at Cal and shrugged. “Tell Nate not to leave without me. I'll be right back.”
“Thank you,” Alex said quietly as I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me. “I imagine you're pretty upset with me--”
“Nope.” I crossed my arms.
“Would you mind walking with me?” he asked. “I'm feeling a little too antsy to just stand here--”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I know you a lot better than you may think, Steph. Which is how I can tell you aren't as fine as you're pretending to be,” he said as we moved side-by-side down the sidewalk in the dark. The only light shining came from the overhead street lamps and the occasional flicker of distant lightning. “I upset you earlier. My behavior was irrational and inexcusable.”
“Agreed.”
“It's just a lot to take in when you realize that the woman you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with is planning to marry another man.”
The sound of our shoes hitting the cement below suddenly became apparent. Alex was probably regretting his last statement while I still tried to process what he said. He wanted to spend his life with me?
Well that's just too bad, I reminded myself. Alex had his chance, and he forced me away. I'm perfectly happy without him.
Maybe.
“I didn't ask you to come along so I could spill my guts,” he assured me. “I just wanted to apologize for everything, especially how things ended before you left for the internship. I was wrong.”
I smirked. I loved hearing a man as stubborn as Alexander Rivera admit his imperfections.
“Things are awkward between us, and I don't want it to be like this.”
I nodded. “Likewise.”
“So, can we agree not to hate each other?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to smile.
“Friends?”
“Friends.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer as we walked down the sidewalk. “You wanna tell me about the man who has stolen your heart?”
I took a deep breath. “No, I'd rather not--”
“Steph,” he playfully pleaded. “How am I supposed to know he actually exists? Come on, what's he like?”
I met his gaze and figured the softness in his expression was genuine and sincere.
Is Alexander Rivera happy for me?
“He's tall--”
“Not much to go on,” he interrupted.
“Dark hair, brown eyes... excellent bone structure--”
“No offense,” Alex said. “But when I ask you about your fiancé, and the only qualities you can come up with are physical, you have to understand why I'm worried that the relationship might be a little superficial--”
“His mother is second in command at the Paris office. His family is originally from California, but they moved to France ten years ago when Adriana scouted his mom.”
“Ah, so he's Pamela Rutherford's boy?”
“Yes, and he began working in the mail room at the company around the same time I started the internship. We were close friends for four years, and decided to start dating last winter--”
“A long friendship is a good, solid foundation for building a relationship--”
“I agree,” I said, happy to have his support. “Let's see...what else? He's twenty-three, as goofy as Nate, not quite as... beautiful as.... anyway, he's a business school graduate--”
“You majored in business, right?”
“Yup--”
“Why not fashion design?”
“I want to establish my own company someday. I think, above all else, it's wiser to have business smarts. There will always be someone else around who can offer creative advice, but let's face it... I'm not going to let anyone besides me run my company.”
He laughed. “You're just like Gran... you always get what you want.�
�
“No,” I said adamantly. “I may get what I want, but I'm nothing like that woman...”
We walked in silence for several long moments. Alex's arm was still wrapped around me as we turned a corner to circle the block. A large gust of autumn wind surrounded us, bringing with it a few tiny drops of rain.
“Here,” Alex said, taking his jacket and draping it across my shoulders. His arm fell back around my waist as he pulled me closer. “You know what I think?”
“Hmm?”
“It's nice having you home again.”
I smiled. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“To quote Casablanca, ‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”
He shook his head and fought a laugh. “I'll let you believe that, Miss Ghijk.”
“I'm wrong?”
“Whether you want to admit it or not, you and I both know that until you say the words I do to some other man, I still have a chance.”
“Oh, yeah? You think so?”
“You call it what you want, but I'll call it what it is. This is the beginning of the rest of your life, kiddo... only the first page of the fairytale we're about to start.”
“Oh puh-lease,” I rolled my eyes and playfully pushed him away.
He smiled and rejoined me on the walk after gaining his composure. The air grew colder as the rainfall changed from slight to steady. “I need you in my life, Steph,” he whispered as he pulled me closer.
“Alex,” I mumbled, dropping my head. “You can't say stuff like that. Not anymore...”
We rounded the corner and stood in front of Cal's. Beads of water fell from the ends of Alex's overgrown hair as he stopped to take my hands. “I'm not giving up, Steph. I won't do it. I refuse to lose you again.”
“I have to go in. Nate is waiting--”
“Go.” He shined his heart-melting smile. “We'll talk again soon.”
“Uh-huh.” I started toward the house. “Wait,” I turned. “Your jacket--”
“Keep it,” he smirked. “I'll get it next time I see you... I imagine it won't be too long.”
I felt a weird sensation deep in my stomach as I took a much needed moment to recap.
I'm living with Nathaniel Bryan.
Engaged to Christopher Rutherford.
And madly in love with Alexander Rivera.
Great. I'm screwed.
Chapter Four
Wednesday September 27
It had been well over a week since I'd taken a nighttime stroll down Main Street with Alex. Untrue to his word, he hadn't been persistent on stealing attention, keeping close by, or trying to interfere with my plans to marry Christopher. Part of me wondered if I'd dreamed it, but even I am incapable of dreaming so realistically.
Alexander Rivera wanted to be with me.
So why weren't we together?
“What's on your mind, Miss Ghijk?” Mischa asked as she took the seat next to me at the sewing table.
“Men.”
“Ah,” she nodded, looking at the engagement ring. “Wedding blues?”
“Something like that,” I mumbled, staring down at the design in front of me.
“Oh my God,” she said, grabbing my arm and taking a serious tone. “You'll never guess what happened to me today.”
I admired Mischa Cunningham for more reasons than I could identify. Most of my admiration, I assume, came from the fact that she is an exact product of my sense of style and hobbies combined with Bridget's extroverted, bubbly nature.
“Someone asked you to homecoming?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I'm not into the whole socializing, popularity contest, shake-your-groove-thing kinda scenes. This is even more surprising than that! You'll never guess!”
“Okay...?”
“Mr. Rivera gave me an application to a summer internship in Paris with, hold your breath... Adriana Holbrook!”
“He did what?”
“I guess he recognizes my potential after all,” she said, smiling. “He told me I should apply as soon as possible, and that he'd be more than willing to write a letter of recommendation to help me get in.”
“You don't want to work for that woman,” I told Mischa.
“You've heard of her?”
“Yes, and trust me, you need to stay as far away from her as you possibly can--”
“I know she has a reputation for being a bit of a firecracker, but God! It would be a dream come true to shadow her for three whole months!”
I bit my tongue and refused to warn her again. There are obviously some things people need to learn on their own... like just how vindictive, spiteful, and cold-hearted Adriana Holbrook truly is.
I sat quietly and watched as Mischa attempted to sew her first garment. She gnawed on her lip with pure frustration before slamming her fist on the table below.
“I can't do it!” she yelled.
“Not with that attitude,” a voice said from the door. Alex walked into the auditorium and headed straight for us, wearing a grin worthy of a million dollars. “Miss Ghijk, you're looking particularly beautiful this evening.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home grading papers or something?”
“Nope! I'm lending a helping hand on the production.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no--”
“Of course I am,” he replied with a smirk. “And since Barbara doesn't need any extra help with the cast, she said I'd be more than welcome to help with the crews. You know what that means, Ghijk?”
“What?” I asked, dreading his answer.
“I'm your man.”
“Over my dead body,” I spat. The last thing I needed was to be in close quarters with a man who made my heart pound uncontrollably every time I saw him. “Besides, I thought you wanted distance from this show—”
“I think I can find time to make it work—”
“Don't bother—”
“You know you want me, Steph...” He wore a sly grin as he winked and raised his eyebrows. “For the show, I mean.”
“You're a pig.”
Mischa laughed. “He has put on a few extra pounds over the past couple years.”
“Right?” I agreed, raising my eyebrows.
“Watch it,” he pointed at her. “I control the fate of your GPA, missy.”
The three of us smiled.
“Mischa,” I turned to her. “Would you excuse us for a second?”
“Sure,” she stood up and skipped away to join a group of her friends standing near the stage.
I leered at Alex. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” he lied. “Why?”
“Mischa told me you gave her an application for your Gran's program. What's that all about? Three weeks ago you hated the poor girl--”
“You wanted me to be nice, so I'm playing nice. Anything for you,” he said, wearing a big, cheesy smile.
“Being friendly is one thing, but offering to write her a recommendation for the internship is a completely different story. Why would you do that?”
“What? You don't want her shadowing you?”
Apparently Alex hadn't got word yet that I was back in Webster Grove...permanently.
“I think you're setting her up for disappointment.”
“You were accepted into the program and you're doing just fine, wouldn't you agree?”
“Yes.”
... no.
Alex took Mischa's seat. “When are you heading back to Paris, anyway? I assume you're in town for the wedding, but after that... what are your plans?”
I bit my lip and contemplated on telling a lie, but decided honesty was the best policy. After all, everyone i
n my life besides Alex already knew I wasn't planning on returning to France. I might as well come clean while I have the chance.
“I'm not going back,” I said, avoiding his stare.
He lowered his gaze and glared at me with his rarely condescending eyes. “What?”
“I'm not going back.”
“You can't do that, Steph. Gran paid your way through college so you could work for her full-time. You can't just stop working for her because you've finished your degree--”
“Alex,” I said sternly. “It is what it is, end of story.”
“I must say... I'm disappointed in you, Steph. It's not like you take advantage of someone who has bent over backward to help you.”
The set of doors to the left swung open, letting in a flood of sunlight. Every head in the room turned to watch a man let himself in. He was tall and perfectly sculpted from top to bottom. His dark hair shined in the light as the door closed behind him. I jumped from my seat and stood up to get a better look. He scanned the many faces for a few seconds before his eyes landed on me. He moved toward me without a moment of hesitation,. I ran to him as fast as I could and smiled the second the distance between our bodies was closed. He embraced me in a tight, seemingly never-ending hug.
“What are you doing here?” I asked through sheer excitement. “I thought your plane didn't get in until Friday night--”
“I got an earlier flight,” he said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “You look... nice, Steph.”
“I'm a mess,” I said, running my hands down the front of my shirt to smooth the wrinkles. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Ran into a man...Calvin, maybe?”
“Cal!” I smiled. “When did you meet him?”
“He was delivering some boxes to your house when my cab pulled up. He actually gave me a ride over to the school.”
He glanced over my shoulder and stared behind me for a few long moments. I turned to see what he was staring at to find Alex slowly approaching.
“Steph,” Alex said, standing next to me. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Fiancé,” I corrected him. “And yes, I'd be happy to. Christopher, this is Alexander Rivera-- he's Adriana's grandson. Alex, this is my future husband, Christopher Rutherford.”
The Webster Grove Series Page 24