A Summer Wedding at Cross Creek Inn

by Cheryl Holt

  “She and I are madly in love.”

  “Right . . .” She stretched out the word, her sarcasm biting. “You’re in love. I’m sure that will take you quite a distance in your life with her.”

  He still hadn’t removed his sunglasses, and she snickered and pulled the drapes shut to cut down on the light streaming in the window.

  “Bless you for that,” he said. “You might have just saved my eyesight.”

  “Sober up, dude. Even to me, your conduct is disgusting, and I don’t normally care how anyone acts.”

  She went to the door and stepped out quietly, figuring enough time had passed that Sharon and Alex would be gone from her own suite. If they weren’t, she’d barge in anyway. She needed a shower to wash Eric’s scent off her skin. Dennis didn’t pay any attention to her and wouldn’t notice her appearance, but it was best to be cautious.

  She turned to tiptoe away, and to her consternation, Lindsey was standing there, watching her furtive exit.

  “Isn’t that Eric’s room?” she asked.

  Crystal’s immediate reaction was to brazen it out. “Yes, it’s his. What of it?”

  “Why were you in there?”

  “We were discussing the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Then why are you sneaking out?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  “Are you sleeping with him? If you are, that’s gross.”

  Crystal’s cheeks heated. It was the curse of having a fair complexion. “Of course I’m not sleeping with him. What an absurd idea.”

  “He’s hot, so I don’t blame you.” Lindsey shrugged. “I would sleep with him if I could, but he’s never been interested.”

  “You’ve hit on him?”

  “Yes, but he treats me like a little sister. He claims I’m not worth the trouble it might cause.”

  Crystal’s irritation soared. Eric was hers. Sort of. Lindsey was young and gorgeous, and though it was bizarre, the notion of him being tempted by her made Crystal feel haggard and used up.

  “Stay away from him,” Crystal said. “He’s too old for you and very far out of your league.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  There was a glum tone in Lindsey’s voice, and Crystal studied her in a manner she never usually did. For once, she looked like crap, which Crystal never liked to observe. They had a mother/daughter image to maintain, and if she didn’t take better care of herself, it would reflect badly on Crystal.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Have you figured things out with Pippa?”

  “My sponsors keep dropping me, and she can’t put out the fire. I had two more bag out this morning. She just texted me.”

  “Dammit . . .” Crystal muttered.

  “What should I do?”

  “Well first, you have to get your ass to LA where you will film a sickly-sweet apology video that’s filled with regret and remorse. I can’t believe Pippa didn’t already suggest it.”

  “I suggested it myself, but she insists it won’t help. She feels public outrage is so high that I should lay low for a bit.”

  “That’s the stupidest decision I’ve ever heard. What kind of publicist is she? Maybe I should hire somebody else.”

  She whipped away and marched off, her mind awhirl with how to salvage the debacle, and Lindsey called, “Mom!”

  Lindsey never referred to her as mom. It was always Crystal, as if they were sisters rather than mother and daughter.

  Crystal halted and glanced back. “What?”

  “You didn’t tell me what to do.”

  “Why would I? You’re a spoiled brat, and you never listen to me, so what would be the point of giving you advice?”

  “I listen—when you’re not being a total bitch.”

  Crystal would have hurled a scathing retort, but Lindsey was so miserable that it would have been like kicking a puppy.

  “I’ll talk to Pippa myself,” she said, “right now.”

  Crystal continued on, and when Lindsey called to her again, she didn’t stop. The idiotic girl had created her own mess, and Crystal wasn’t a magician.

  She reached her suite and entered the sitting room, relieved to find that Sharon and Alex were gone. Dennis was there though, seated at the table and finishing his meal.

  “My phone still doesn’t have any reception,” was his surly greeting.

  “You keep mentioning that . . . why? Mine is just fine, and if you’re having issues, I have no idea what you expect me to do about it.”

  She was desperate to get to the shower. It was ridiculous to be apprehensive, but she felt as if she was emitting sex waves that were detectable.

  “When you recommended this place for the wedding,” he said, “you swore to me that I’d have no problem with any of my devices.”

  “It’s what that bimbo, Victoria DeAngelo, told me. If you’re having trouble, complain to her. Not me.”

  “Lindsey is looking for you.”

  “She found me.”

  “You better tell me that her face isn’t all over the Internet again today.”

  “It’s not,” she lied. “I checked.”

  “What’s your plan with regard to her?”

  “She and I are heading to LA on Sunday, and she’ll grovel in a video that we’ll send out everywhere.” She waffled a hand, as if the situation would miraculously vanish. “It will go away. Don’t worry about it. I’m certainly not.”

  “It’s interesting to me,” he said, “that your phone is working. Your other phone, that is.”

  “What do you mean?” She pulled her cell out of her pocket and wiggled it at him. “I have no other phone.”

  He gestured to the middle of the table where she saw the phone she used for communication with her lawyer. When Dennis had tossed her out a bit earlier, she’d been so angry that she’d forgotten about it.

  “It was in a drawer, and it kept ringing,” he said. “Your lawyer and I chatted, and I received the general drift of his message.”

  “Which was . . . ?”

  “Are you about to be arrested?”

  “No! Don’t be silly.”

  “His words were garbled, and they faded in and out, but I definitely heard arrest, arraignment, and bail. Would you like to explain that to me?”

  “Why are you being such an asshole?”

  He leaned back in his chair, his belly stretching his ratty T-shirt to its limit. “I told you to deal with this dilemma—so it never impacted me.”

  “I am dealing with it. It’s simply been a little harder than I thought to have it fixed.”

  “And Lindsey is constantly reminding people that you’ve committed a felony, merely to buy her admission to a college she didn’t even want to attend.”

  “That’s not true!” She huffed with offense. “She was excited about it, and since when is it a crime for a rich person to spend her money to help her kid?”

  “A rich person can do many things with his or her money, but when it’s spread around inappropriately, it’s bribery. I’m quite sure you can be prosecuted for it.”

  “I won’t be prosecuted. My lawyer promises I won’t be.”

  “Lawyers give bad advice all the time. What if this is one of those times?”

  The prospect was so terrifying that she was surprised her knees didn’t buckle.

  He was making her feel, once again, that he was her very stern, very grumpy father rather than her husband. He was much older than she was, and it was difficult to ever be on an equal footing with him.

  “It’s being reported that Lindsey’s sponsors are dropping her like flies,” he said.

  “She’s lost a few.” Crystal forced herself to sound casual.

  He narrowed his gaze, his face pinched and cruel. “Do you think I live in a bubble? Do you think I’m never apprised
about what’s really occurring?”

  “I have no idea. You’re surrounded by fawning sycophants. Are any of them ever candid?”

  “Are there any sponsors left?” he furiously said. “I already know the answer to that question, so don’t you dare lie to me.”

  “I haven’t discussed the situation with Pippa.”

  “Why don’t you call her right now? I’ll listen in.”

  She would never confer with Pippa in front of him. There was a ton of information she could never allow him to discover. “I’ve been out running, and I need to shower. Then I’ll try to get hold of her.”

  “Why will you have to try? Isn’t your phone reception fine?”

  “You’re being such a dick. Why? Was Sharon a pain in the ass at breakfast? If you’re upset with her, don’t take it out on me.”

  He didn’t reply to the taunt, but his gaze grew steely. “How are your sponsors?”

  “They’re happy.”

  “There’s a news crew from LA out at the gate. They’d like a statement from you about the legal case.”

  She gasped with astonishment. “The Inn management won’t let them in, will they?”

  “No. Isn’t that why you booked this spot? So we could have some privacy? Will you talk to them or not?”

  “No!”

  “Smart girl, but remember this: You have one more week to make this disappear, and if it doesn’t, we’re through.”

  It was the scariest comment ever voiced in her presence. He was often curt and livid with her, but in the past, he’d never threatened to split, and she wouldn’t permit him to bully her.

  “We’d be through?” She scoffed. “You act as if you might divorce me over some tabloid gossip.”

  He stared so pointedly that her pulse raced with dread, then he nodded toward the bedroom.

  “Take your shower, Crystal. I’m sick of looking at you.”

  She spat out an insulted breath, then swept by him, muttering, “Prick.”

  “One week,” was his response. “Fix it or that’s it.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, eager to hurl a scornful remark, but he was eating again, as if there’d been no quake in their relationship. It dawned on her that this was exactly how she treated Lindsey, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.

  She stormed to the bathroom, which had been her destination all along.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite commune resident again.”

  Josh was slouched at a table on the rear patio of the Inn, the summer sun shining down on him. The bright rays were a futile remedy to cure his hangover. A waiter was being very kind, delivering food, orange juice, and whatever else might tamp down his misery.

  Amy had just walked by, and she smiled at him and said, “And if it isn’t my favorite baseball player. Actually, you’re my only baseball player. I’m not acquainted with any others, so I guess you have to be my favorite.”

  His eyes were shielded with dark sunglasses, and he should have been polite and removed them, but he didn’t dare. He felt as if he was dying.

  He waved to an empty chair, indicating she should join him.

  “I can’t decide if I should sit down with you or not,” she said.

  “Why wouldn’t you? Are we fighting?”

  “Maybe. I think I’m angry with you.”

  “Do we know each other well enough for you to be angry?” He motioned to the chair again. “Sit.”

  She dithered and fussed, then obeyed. She was too nice for her own good.

  “You’re not too spry this morning,” she said.

  “My head is about to explode.”

  “I take it you’re hungover.”

  “I’m so far beyond a simple hangover that there’s not a word to describe my suffering.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you. Should I mention that you’re thirty and you should know better?”

  He lifted his sunglasses and peeked out at her. “You’re too pretty to be such a scold.”

  “Compliments won’t help you. Are you aware that your antics nearly brought the wedding to a screeching halt?”

  The world seemed to be spinning really fast, and his brain was stumbling to keep up, so the accusation confused him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You ran off with the groom. The bride wondered why he’d treat her so badly, and it had her questioning whether she should marry him or not.”

  “Oh.”

  His life with Eric had always been one big party. When Eric had suggested they bag out on his guests, it had been the type of conduct they’d engaged in forever. Josh hadn’t thought they should go, and he hadn’t really been all that enthused to leave, but he wasn’t the groom. In his opinion, if Eric was eager to do something stupid, it wasn’t Josh’s duty to stop him.

  They didn’t babysit each other, but Josh wasn’t as reckless as Eric. He couldn’t be. Due to his intense physical training, he had to stay in shape, so he didn’t drink as excessively as he had when he was younger. It had been an eternity since he’d indulged to such an extreme level, and he was definitely paying the price.

  “I didn’t want to accompany him,” he said quite pathetically.

  “How old are you? Ten? You can’t speak up for yourself?”

  He chuckled at that. Women threw themselves at his feet. They fawned over him and went out of their way to get his attention. They never criticized him. With his being a mega-athlete, he could instigate any awful mischief and be forgiven for it.

  “Why are you laughing?” she asked, frowning.

  “Because I like you.”

  “Why is that funny?”

  “You’re so different from every female I’ve ever met. You’re not impressed by me.”

  “I’m kind of impressed, just not right now. Right now, I think you’re a prick.”

  He was slumped in his chair, wishing he could slide to the floor and curl into a ball. He forced himself to straighten, and he rested his elbows on the table. He clasped her hand and linked their fingers.

  “I apologize for upsetting your sister,” he said.

  “I’m glad to hear it. It means you’re not completely irredeemable.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I never drink like this anymore. I’m so wretched I could die.”

  “Good. Try to remember how terrible you feel. It might improve your behavior in the future.”

  She smiled a smile that made her look ancient and wise, and he was curious over what sort of odd voodoo she practiced at that commune of hers. She was so peaceful and serene, and she emitted an aura of happiness—so that he yearned to linger in her presence.

  It was a strange realization. He was constantly surrounded by adoring women, and they were all gorgeous and amazingly sexy. She was very pretty, but she didn’t fuss with her appearance, and it seemed as if he might be attracted to her. Wasn’t that the damnedest thing ever?

  If he had a type—and he didn’t believe he did—she certainly wasn’t anywhere close. But he liked her. He liked chatting with her and listening to the intriguing observations she uttered.

  With his shoulder injury plaguing him, his world was about to be shattered. If that was the road down which he was careening, she would be the very best person to have as a friend. She’d suffered her own tragedy, so she’d know how to commiserate in a truly sincere way.

  Life had slapped her alongside the head, and she’d survived. Maybe he could survive too.

  “Would you walk me to my room?” he asked.

  “Are you so enfeebled that you can’t make it on your own?”

  “I’ll say yes just to stir your sympathy.”

  “What, precisely, will we do there once we arrive?”

  “You can tuck me into bed and cool my aching brow with a wet cloth—as if I’m an invalid. Which I am.” />
  “You’re such a baby, Josh.”

  “I agree, so I’m used to being spoiled rotten. You’re the only female in this building who I dare ask to oblige me.”

  “Come on, you pitiful child.”

  She stood and held out her hand. He grabbed it, and she yanked him to his feet.

  “I’m a mess,” he said.

  “Yes, you are, and you have the rehearsal dinner tonight, so we have to get you into a better condition.”

  “How many hours do I have?”

  “Nine?”

  “Hopefully, you can keep me alive that long.” He pulled her to his side so he could riffle his nose in her hair.

  “You smell good,” he said.

  “Flatterer.”

  “Will you promise to be nice to me all day?”

  “I’ll be nice for awhile, but I have the bridal lunch at two o’clock. I can’t loaf with you. I’m busy.”

  “You’d have more fun with me than you would at some stupid lunch.”

  “Are you interesting enough to entertain me? My bar is fairly high. Let’s see if you can climb over it.”

  They strolled off together, and his mind was perking up as he wondered what the heck he was thinking by inviting her to his room. Suddenly, it felt as if he’d wound up with a girlfriend. To his great surprise, any marvelous ending seemed possible, and his hangover wasn’t nearly so bad.

  “It’s pretty.”

  “I agree.”

  Jennifer smiled at Alex. They were on the rear patio that was ready for the bride’s lunch to be held, and Alex was correct. It was pretty.

  She and Eric were each having just one person stand up with them during the ceremony. Eric hadn’t expected Alex to return from Africa, so Josh would be his best man. Jennifer hadn’t expected Amy to come from Oregon, so Rachel would be her maid of honor.

  It meant Rachel was hosting the luncheon, but with how her sister was prone to throwing wrenches into Jennifer’s life, she’d been desperate to sneak downstairs and check that the staff had actually prepared for the event. Jennifer probably shouldn’t have worried, but where Rachel was concerned, she couldn’t let down her guard.

  The tables were covered with crisp white tablecloths, the silver and crystal shining in the summer sun. Flowered centerpieces added color, and her and Eric’s names were entwined in the bouquets. Iced buckets of champagne were everywhere, the bottles waiting to be popped open.