by Hope Ramsay
Andrew immediately snapped to attention. “What’s up? Is there a problem with the Aviation Engineering negotiations?”
Noah shook his head. “No, I read your memo on that, and I think you nailed the health care strategy. Good work on that, by the way.” Noah took a seat in Andrew’s single side chair.
Andrew tried to relax, but out beyond his glass wall, his assistant was peeking above her cubicle with a worried frown. Kim had good cause to worry. Partners never visited associates at Wilson Kavanaugh.
Andrew took a deep, calming breath and asked, “What can I do for you?”
“It’s a personal matter…” Noah’s voice faded out, and he moved restlessly in the plastic and steel chair, which looked great but had not been designed for sitting. This had never been a problem before since almost no one ever visited his office. If Andrew needed to speak with Noah, he made an appointment.
Noah finally found a comfortable position and let go of a long breath before he spoke again. “To be honest, I’m here to talk about Laurie and Brandon.”
“What about them?” Andrew asked in a cautious tone.
“I was furious with Brandon on Saturday.”
“You had good cause to be.”
“Your father and uncles calmed me down.”
Andrew already knew this, but something about the way Noah said it, while his eyes moved to the left, put Andrew on guard. “Uncle Mark has a long history of calming people down,” he said in a neutral voice.
Noah nodded. “I’ve had a day or two to think about things, and I’ve come to the conclusion that, if I do nothing, Laurie’s self-esteem will be shattered for a very long time. I love my daughter, Andrew. I don’t want her living her life alone in some academic ivory tower. I want her to be—” He bit off the end of his sentence and gazed through the window.
Andrew had never seen Noah so emotional.
After a long moment, Noah hauled in big breath, as if to calm himself, and continued. “Brandon’s behavior is inexcusable, even if I believe it’s a classic example of cold feet, exacerbated by over-the-top wedding plans. Regardless, I need your help to make sure my daughter does exactly what Brandon asked her to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Go out on dates and see other people. That will give her confidence, and at the same time it will likely drive Brandon crazy. I bet it helps Brandon to see that he’s made a mistake.”
What the hell? Noah wanted to get Laurie and Brandon back together. Why?
“I see I’ve surprised you,” Noah said.
“Surprised” wasn’t the word Andrew was thinking. He nodded and chose his words carefully. “Brandon doesn’t want me to mediate his conflict with Laurie. And besides, I’m hardly impartial since Brandon and Laurie’s breakup has divided my circle of friends. This is an awkward situation for me, Noah.”
“Of course it is. It’s awkward for everyone. Nevertheless I want you to drop everything and focus on this problem. From now on, this is your highest priority,” Noah said.
Oh boy, Andrew was in serious trouble. But he couldn’t say no because Noah had Andrew’s career in his hands. Andrew was up for partner this year. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll give it some thought after we finish the Aviation Engineering negotiations.”
Noah shook his head. “No. I don’t want you wasting your time with AVIEN. I want you to speak with my daughter right away and convince her of the necessity of dating. Be sure to tell her that going out with other men has the potential to help Brandon see the enormity of his mistake. And then I want you to facilitate her dates.”
“Facilitate her dates? What does that mean?”
“It means introducing her to some of your friends.”
Andrew’s mouth almost dropped open. “But—”
“Make it happen for her, understand?” Noah stood up, cutting off all objections. “I know this is going to be difficult, but I have faith in you, Andrew.”
The managing partner of Wilson Kavanaugh turned and stalked through the door. A moment later, Kim scurried into Andrew’s office and hovered over his desk. “Did he fire you?” she asked.
“No. We were discussing private client matters.”
“Which matters? I saw his face. He was kind of agitated. Did you mess up on AVIEN? I told you that idea for pushing health care was a loser; they’ll never agree to anything except a wage hike.”
He ground his teeth. “Kim, if you don’t mind, I’d—”
“Good morning.” Tobin Grant, who was obviously hooked into the office grapevine, stopped at the door to Andrew’s office and lounged there looking every inch the successful D.C. lawyer on the make.
“I heard Noah came to visit,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Should I genuflect or offer my condolences? The last time Noah entered an associate’s office was three years ago, and it didn’t go well for old Steve.”
Andrew leaned back in his chair, trying to exude confidence. “Look, guys,” Andrew said, “Noah just gave me a new assignment. If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“What assignment?” Kim and Tobin asked in unison.
“Something confidential.”
They shared a conspiratorial glance that told Andrew everything he needed to know about Kim’s nonexistent loyalties. But then he already knew his odds in the partnership pool were much longer than Tobin’s. Tobin Grant was the fair-haired boy who was practically assured of making partner at the end of the year.
Andrew not so much. He’d had to work harder and suck up more than Tobin ever had to. And now, his chances in the partnership sweepstakes were fading, and all because his best friend had left the boss’s daughter at the altar.
Chapter Four
Mom had spent most of Sunday trying to get Laurie on a train to New York, but Laurie had dug in her heels. Mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she also had a short attention span. She’d finally given up Sunday evening and had taken the last Acela back to the Big Apple.
Unfortunately, Mom knew how to use a cell phone. She called and texted hourly until Laurie put her phone into airplane mode. Then, on Monday evening, Mom pulled out the big guns and sent in the police. Not the entire SFPD, of course, but a nice, polite, and handsome policeman named Ryan Pierce, who refused to leave her door until he made certain she wasn’t suicidal.
Ryan had a soft Virginia accent, a pair of big blue eyes, and a cowlick. He also had a nasty-looking scar on the right side of his neck where it looked as if he’d been burned. But a single girl could overlook that small defect since he didn’t have a wedding ring on his left hand. If she were at all interested in climbing back on the horse, as Mom had suggested on Sunday, then Ryan Pierce just might be the guy. At least he wasn’t connected with the Lyndon family like Daniel or Andrew.
But Laurie wasn’t ready. She filed Ryan Pierce away for a rainy day and assured him that she was not thinking about offing herself. Although she was killing her waistline with her days-long ice cream, popcorn, and pizza binge. But hey, she didn’t have to worry about fitting into the beautiful lace wedding dress anymore. And binging on junk food and all twenty-six episodes of the first two seasons of House of Cards kept her mind off her troubles.
So on Tuesday morning, she grabbed some cold pizza, made herself a cup of coffee in the Keurig coffeemaker someone had given her as a wedding present, and settled in for season three. But she hadn’t watched more than fifteen minutes before someone knocked on her front door.
Damn. Couldn’t people just leave her alone? She ignored the doorbell and snuggled down into Brandon’s Washington Capitals throw. But concentrating on Francis Underwood and his brand of amoral politics was hard when someone continued to ring the bell and knock on the door. And then whoever it was decided to peep through the gigantic living room window that overlooked her rickety porch.
Laurie’s heart soared. The visitor who pressed his face up against the grubby window pane was definitely male. For an instant, she thought it might be Brandon, come to tell her that it was all
a horrible mistake.
But the guy on her porch was taller and thinner than Brandon. “C’mon, Laurie, open the door,” he said as he raised a green and red donut box. “I brought Krispy Kremes.”
Speak of the devil. Andrew Lyndon himself. With donuts. She wondered if his aunt had sent him.
She hauled herself up from the couch and padded to the front door. She cracked it open. “I’ll take the donuts, please.” She reached her hand through the narrow opening.
He cocked his head like an adorable puppy with big soulful eyes. “You don’t get the donuts unless you let me in.”
“I’m not dressed for company,” she said, glancing down at her pink bunny slippers, gray sweatpants, and George Washington University sweatshirt. She’d been wearing these clothes since Sunday afternoon.
“I’m not company,” he said.
“No? Then why are you here bearing bribes? Did your aunt send you?”
He frowned. “My aunt? Why would she have sent me?”
Clearly Andrew didn’t know about his aunt’s matchmaking plans. “Okay, then why are you here?”
Andrew’s mouth twitched. “Actually your dad sent me.”
How could you not like Andrew when the guy always told the truth? He was dependable. And honest. An ex-fiancé’s perfect best friend. “Why did he send you and not come himself?”
“I don’t know. I’m here to talk to you about an idea.”
“What kind of idea?”
Andrew looked away and to the left, his body language screaming discomfort.
Laurie was suddenly intrigued. “Is Daddy pissed at Brandon?”
Andrew huffed out a breath. “Yes. And no. Look, can I come in, please?”
She opened the door wide and knew a moment of humiliation as he scanned her from head to toe. She hated the look in his eyes. Was it pity? She didn’t want anyone, least of all Brandon’s best friend, to pity her. “So what is this idea?”
“Teaching Brandon a lesson.”
“How? And why would you be interested in doing that? I mean, you’re his friend, right?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, I am. And I also work for your father.”
“Right. So conflicted.”
He nodded.
“Well, you can relax because I don’t want to teach Brandon a lesson.”
“No? Then what do you want, Laurie?”
She blinked. “Oh my God, you sounded just like Daddy right then. What is he up to?”
“Noah wants to help you and Brandon get back together. He’s enlisted my help.”
She snatched the box of donuts from his hands. “Really?”
“That’s what he told me yesterday. He’d like me to see what I can do about it.”
She snorted a laugh. “What you really mean is that he’s using his leverage over your partnership prospects to force you into doing something you don’t want to do. I’m totally aware of Dad’s high-handed tactics. I’m really sorry, Andrew. He can be a pain in the butt. But thanks for these.” She clutched the box of donuts to her breast and tried to shut the door in Andrew’s face.
Unfortunately, Andrew had good reflexes. He wedged his foot in the door and forced it open.
She retreated in the face of his superior strength, but not without a snarky retort. “I’m not sharing the donuts.”
“That’s fine, I brought them just for you because I know how much you love Krispy Kremes.”
She gave him a sideways look. “How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how. I just do. You’re part of the family or something, you know?”
“No, I don’t. I’m not part of your family. Your aunt said the same thing to me on Sunday.”
He arched his brow. “Has Aunt Pam been to visit?”
“No. Mom and I ran into her on Sunday at the Red Fern Inn.”
“Ah,” he said as he strolled into the living room, his wingtips sounding as hollow as the house. He didn’t ask if he could stay; he merely dropped into one of the ugly IKEA recliner chairs that belonged to Brandon. He leaned back, cocked one leg over his knee, and assumed a mild and utterly unreadable expression. Laurie had often wondered if that nondescript demeanor was a mask or whether Andrew Lyndon was, truly, incapable of strong emotions.
In all the years Laurie had been with Brandon, she’d seen Andrew lose that cool reserve only once—when he’d gone after Dusty McNeil. Laurie could hardly fault him for that since Andrew had told everyone that he thought Dusty was taking advantage of his sister. If Laurie had an older brother, she would want him to be protective and concerned like that.
But most of the time, Andrew wasn’t that passionate about anything. In fact, he was the responsible guy at every party. The one you could count on to be the designated driver or to pull everyone back from the brink of stupidity. He was, always, the voice of reason.
She climbed back under the Capitals throw on the couch, selected a donut from the box, and nodded her head at him. “Okay, you’ve got exactly five minutes for whatever it is you came to say.”
He leaned forward and dropped his leg. “On Saturday, when I asked you what you wanted, you told me that you were willing to forgive Brandon. Do you still feel that way?”
A rush of sugar coursed through her as she sank her teeth into the donut. There was nothing in the world—not even sex—as good as a Krispy Kreme. She thought carefully about Andrew’s question as the donut melted in her mouth. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.
Andrew nodded, as if her answer hadn’t surprised him in the least. His nonreaction ticked her off for some unfathomable reason. “He broke my heart,” she added, just to be clear. “How can I forgive that?”
“Easy. If you love him and want to be his wife.”
“Not so easy. I mean, why did Brandon do that to me? We were together for so long.”
“What if that’s the problem?” he asked.
“What? That we’ve been together? Like it’s okay for him to get bored?” Although that’s exactly what had happened.
Andrew shook his head. “No, it’s more like fear of better options.”
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe he feels as if he never took the time to…I don’t know, play the field, sow some wild oats, whatever.”
“Right.” She took another bite of the donut. In a minute, she would ask Andrew to leave, and she would forget this unsettling conversation.
Andrew said nothing for the longest time, and it was almost as if he used the silence as a weapon to pry her open. She busied herself devouring the donut and refused to give in.
“So,” he said when she was down to licking the sugar off her fingers, “what if we showed Brandon the consequences of looking for better options?”
“Okay. And what, in your judgment, are the consequences?”
“I’m pretty sure Brandon hasn’t thought through how he might feel if you decided to go out and play the field.”
“You mean he might be a victim of his own double standard?” she asked and then shook her head. “But what if he’s already gone out and played the field? What if there’s someone else?” Her voice wavered, and she had to admit that the prospect of Brandon cheating on her was soul-sucking.
Andrew shook his head. “Laurie, I truly don’t think Brandon has been going out with other women on the side. I think he just got cold feet because he’s never played the field, and it suddenly dawned on him that he’d never have the chance again if he got married. That can be a terrifying realization.”
“So you’re saying that if I do what Brandon asked me to do—go explore other options—it will make him jealous?”
“Well, sort of. See, I’m not suggesting that you actually date other people. I’m suggesting that you give the appearance of dating other people. In order to make him realize what an idiot he’s being.”
“Okay, how do I give the appearance of dating? What do I do, just go directly to Match.com and post a sexy profile?”
“T
here’s an idea.”
“But if I did that, I would lose Brandon forever, wouldn’t I?”
“Maybe not.” He leaned back in the chair, looking so completely comfortable that it irked her. “Instead of Match.com, I was thinking along the lines of setting you up on a series of show dates, with guys Brandon either knows or admires or even hates. In short, guys that will annoy the crap out of him. We’d arrange them so that Brandon either sees you out with someone else, or hears about it. I’m betting that seeing you out with someone else will drive him crazy, and he’ll realize there are no better options out there.”
Her mouth actually dropped open. “You’re not serious.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. But if I did what you suggest and it worked, I’d spend the rest of my life wondering if I’d tricked Brandon into marriage.”
“But you do love him, right?”
“I do, but I can’t manipulate him that way. It’s wrong.”
“You won’t even try?”
She shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry Dad sent you here. I shouldn’t have to trick Brandon into coming back to me. That’s just crazy.” She stood up, walked to the door, and opened it. “You can tell Dad that I’m fine. And thanks for the donuts. Now if you don’t mind, Netflix is calling my name.”
Laurie probably should have called Dad and told him not to send Andrew on any more missions designed to make Brandon come back to her. But she didn’t call her father because she was a little afraid that Dad would talk her into doing what Andrew had suggested. Dad could be incredibly persuasive, and he was a master manipulator.
So she pushed Andrew’s visit—and his ridiculous idea—out of her mind and dived back into House of Cards for a few more hours. But by Tuesday evening, she’d grown tired of Frank Underwood and his Machiavellian schemes—not to mention his monologues delivered in a not-quite-authentic Southern accent. So when the doorbell rang at a little before six o’clock, she was ready to admit that her self-imposed exile had reached the point of tedium.