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The Wedding Report

Page 19

by Daria White


  “I didn’t beg you. I only wanted to know where your priorities are,” he said.

  She cocked her head to the side. “So we’re going there again?”

  “Andrea—”

  “Are you even sure you want me here?” She shrugged.

  He walked over and sat next to her on the bed. He took one of her hands. “I want you here.”

  She turned to face him, still holding his hand. “Is something wrong?”

  Was this the moment? Lance nibbled on his bottom lip. “Between the wedding and work, it’s a lot.”

  She clutched his hand tighter and rested her head on his shoulder. “Why can’t it just be us?”

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  She lifted her head. “I’ve been thinking. I like your mom, but…”

  “But what?”

  “You don’t think she’s too involved with... us? She left a few messages on my phone.”

  If only she wasn’t right. “She has her ways, but she means well.”

  “I know she loves you and only wants the best, but Lance if we’re going to do this, it needs to be you and me. Nothing can come between us. We’re starting our lives together.”

  Their lives. Andrea was right. It was the two of them now.

  “Andrea?”

  “Yes?”

  “I told you... remember when I said I was married before?”

  “Yes. Why does that matter now?” She stared at him, focusing on his gaze. Reaching to touch his cheek, she caressed his face. “Is that it? I knew it.” Then she hugged him.

  Lance held her tight. He had shared with her about his past, but Andrea didn’t know who his ex-wife was. Thankfully, Chantelle didn’t let on about their history.

  Andrea grazed her fingers along the nape of his neck. Then she drew back, giving a small smile. “I can’t tell you I know how to be a wife. I wish I could tell you I won’t hurt you, but I know it won’t be on purpose.”

  He looked back at her. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about with us? All this time. Because... it didn’t work out with her?” Andrea asked. Her bottom lip trembled.

  Lance swallowed. “I don’t want you to worry about that. You’re right. This is about us and our lives together.”

  She kissed his lips, cradling his face in her hands. Then she pulled back. “I’ve been on a plane most of the day. If you don’t want me looking tired tomorrow, I think I need to get some sleep.”

  Lance bobbed his head. He then checked the time on the alarm clock on the end table. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the interview.” He cupped her cheek and returned the soft pecks to her supple lips. With that, he stood to his feet.

  Andrea walked him to the door, and he kissed her forehead before stepping out into the hallway. As he descended the stairs, he said goodnight to Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. On his way home, Lance gripped the steering wheel.

  How was he going to get through the interview? His future wife in the same room as his ex-wife? Not an excellent combination. His chest heaved with a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to go home. Lance wanted more than anything to drive away from Delta Heights.

  Before he knew it, he found himself on the country road he and Chantelle loved so much. Parking the car, he cut the engine and rested his head against the headrest. As he closed his eyes, all he could feel was Chantelle in his arms as he spun her across the dance floor.

  Then Andrea showed. Her eyes shined with affection. There was no choice. Lance had to believe whatever he was feeling for Chantelle was because of them spending time together.

  The eighteen-year-old Lance was almost thirty. He wouldn’t make the rash decision like he did before. When his parents wanted him and Chantelle to give their baby up for adoption, he used some of his savings and bought her a ring. No one else would raise his child. Even if he had to work two or three jobs, he would support his baby and the woman he loved.

  Then she lost it. Lance pressed a fist to his forehead. It had to stop. He started the engine and headed home. Once the interview was over, he would ask Chantelle to leave. If only his stomach didn’t clench at the thought of losing her again.

  ***

  Chantelle grabbed her cross body purse as she sat in her car outside of Lance’s house. Her dreams of him only made her wake in the middle of the night. If it wasn’t her trying to break up the wedding, she dreamed of him running after her at the airport. She read too many romance novels to expect such a grand gesture of love. She got out of the car and headed to the front door.

  She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. When did it get so hot? Looking upward, she released a deep breath. The lawnmower cutting the grass made her head turn. What was she waiting for? Tapping her heeled shoe on the porch, Chantelle rolled her shoulders back.

  The doorbell rang in her ears once she pressed the button, but when Dottie answered, the corners of Chantelle’s mouth lifted. “It’s nice to see you again, Dottie.”

  Dottie ushered her inside the foyer. “You’re right on time. They just finished lunch.”

  Chantelle ignored the burning sensation in her chest. She had a job to do. “Lead the way.”

  Dottie directed her to the living area, and Chantelle settled on the couch. Her knee bounced, and she grabbed it to make it stop. This was ridiculous! This was an interview, like she always did. Only... the couples she interviewed in the past didn’t affect her the way Lance and Andrea did. Talking to him one on one was one thing, but could she stomach seeing another woman holding his hand?

  It used to be her. She was his girl. Crossing her legs, Chantelle stared into space. Unconsciously, her hand rubbed at her stomach. No. She shook her head. Her chest heaved with another sigh.

  Chantelle pulled out her recorder, just as Lance and Andrea entered the room, hand in hand. Her stomach rolled, but she wouldn’t cower now.

  Chantelle stood to her feet. “Good afternoon.”

  Lance nodded, but Andrea extended her free hand to Chantelle’s. The trio then settled in their seats, with Chantelle on the sofa, and Lance and Andrea on the opposite love seat. The couple continued holding hands, and Chantelle willed herself to speak despite the spots flashing in her vision.

  “It’s great to have you both here,” she said. “How was your trip, Andrea?”

  “It was amazing. I love traveling. It’s mostly for work, but I love the places I’ve seen over the years.” Andrea’s grin grew wide. She nudged Lance’s shoulder. “Life can’t be all about work.”

  Chantelle made a note on her tablet. “I’ve asked Lance about how you two met. I think our readers will love his perspective, but can I get your side of the story?”

  Andrea beamed. “Well, the gala that his parents host every year is amazing. I didn’t want to go that night, but my best friend said it would be good for me. I’d been working so hard and a night out was what she thought I needed. I didn’t notice him at first, but I guess I caught his eye.”

  “What did you think of him?” Chantelle asked.

  “You can tell her,” Lance said. Then he winked at his fiancé, using his free hand to graze her bare knee.

  Chantelle adjusted in her seat. This interview needed to hurry. Seeing him with her was making her mouth dry.

  Andrea smiled and looked over at Chantelle. “I thought he was handsome. A gentleman, but in my business, you never know who’s being genuine, so I brushed him off at first. Then he got bold.”

  “Here we go.” Lance turned to face her, as if her version of their story was intriguing him too.

  Chantelle asked. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing special that I remember. He asked me out. I said no,” Andrea said.

  “Nothing special?” Lance grinned. “Do you know how nervous I was? Then you shut me down like a car salesman.”

  She giggled, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “I didn’t know you then. Anyway, he was persistent. I’d seen him enough in the tabloids to know about him and his family. I gave him
a chance. Got to know him. The rest is history.”

  Chantelle made her notes. “How did you feel when he proposed?”

  Andrea touched a free hand to her chest. “My knees were shaking, but when he got down on one knee, I had to say yes. He’s amazing. I love how Lance cares about people. He’s very hands on with his job, making sure his clients are making the best deals. He cares about people. Even with his volunteer work, I know that he cares about the kids.”

  Chantelle bobbed her head. “Have you two decided on where you’ll live? If I remember, Andrea, your house is in Los Angeles.”

  “We’re still discussing it.” Lance’s jaw clenched.

  Andrea stroked his arm. “I think we can at least let the public know our plans. You’ll be coming to live in LA with me.”

  “You will?” Chantelle asked as her eyebrows rose.

  “Nothing’s final. It would be nice to live in the same city. I know I said LA is great, but you can’t deny the community here,” he said.

  “I’m not one for the small town life, Lance. You know that.” Andrea flipped her hair behind her shoulders.

  “If you give it a chance, it might work.” He added.

  “Why can’t you give the city a chance?” Andrea released her grip on his hand.

  Chantelle pulled at her skirt, avoiding eye contact with them as they debated. Didn’t they discuss this before? The wedding was two weeks away.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the city life, and there’s nothing wrong with Delta Heights. I like it here. It’s my home.”

  “It is a great community,” Chantelle said. She didn’t know if it was a good idea to diffuse the situation, but she didn’t want to lose control of the interview. “Low crime rate, amazing schools, and a bakery that makes the best cinnamon rolls you’ve ever tasted.”

  Both Lance and Andrea stared at her. Drawing back on the sofa, Chantelle lowered her gaze to her tablet. Twisting her lips, she wanted to disappear.

  “You grew up here?” Andrea asked.

  Chantelle met her gaze. “Yes, I…” She looked over at Lance. “I grew up here before leaving for college.”

  Andrea gestured between Chantelle and Lance. “You knew each other before?”

  Lance ran his hand down his face. “Yes. We grew up here… together.”

  Andrea looked back and forth between the two of them. “Were you two friends?”

  Chantelle swallowed.

  Lance clasped her hand. “Chantelle and I knew each other in high school.”

  Chantelle tilted her head to the side. He didn’t tell Andrea about them? They were more than friends. She was his wife. The mother of his child.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Andrea asked. “That would have been nice to know.”

  “It was years ago,” Chantelle said. She hoped her voice didn’t sound cold, but Lance brushing off their past made her pulse thump.

  “Did you two date?” Andrea gestured between them.

  Lance stood and faced her. “Let’s talk about this in private.” He looked over at Chantelle. “Do you mind?”

  She reached for her recorder and tablet, stuffing them back inside her bag. “No problem.”

  Chantelle hurried to the door. Would Andrea want another reporter to finish the story? She would. What sane woman would want her fiancé’s ex-wife lurking around?

  Chapter 22

  “What was that?” Andrea asked, her expression pinched.

  “I told you the reporter was a native.” Lance explained.

  “Yes, but you didn’t tell me you grew up with her or that you used to date. Why did you keep that from me?”

  “Because it was a long time ago. I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”

  She crossed her arms. “Are you? You won’t even move to be with me. Now I find out your ex-girlfriend is… wait a minute… she’s been here this whole time?” She pointed to him. “You’re having second thoughts about us, aren’t you?”

  “Andrea, let’s not get into that.” He stalked off to the kitchen, but she followed.

  “You’re telling me that there’s nothing between you two?” She asked.

  Why did his stomach tingle? Heat further rose behind his eyelids. He opened his mouth to answer, but Andrea continued.

  “I don’t know. She seems nice, but I couldn’t help but wonder...”

  “Wonder what?” Why did his pulse increase?

  “If she’s over you. I know you said high school, but you’d be surprised how women can carry a torch for a man.”

  Lance wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t go there. “I think she was nervous in interviewing you.”

  Andrea exhaled, tapping her fingers on the kitchen island. “I just keep thinking...”

  “What?” He faced her.

  She shrugged. “You’ve told me about your past and that you were married before. You told me you dated around, I just didn’t expect to see one of your exes here. It felt... awkward.”

  Lance wanted to reassure her, but that would release all the skeletons in his closet. He breathed easier when Chantelle didn’t mention their brief marriage. She could have. It was the perfect opportunity to bash him to Andrea. How he left her at the hospital after losing their child.

  Lance rubbed at his forehead.

  “I haven’t made the situation better.” Andrea’s expression softened. “Have I?”

  His body relaxed, and he extended his arms to her. She hurried to him and he hugged her tight. “No. I wasn’t honest.” He wasn’t truthful now. Inwardly, he winced. Why was the past still so painful? “I don’t want you doubting.”

  She stroked his back. “I trust you, Lance.”

  His heart pounded. He wouldn’t start their marriage with lies. “Babe, I need to—”

  She drew back and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I don’t want to know. Not now. I just want to enjoy being with you.”

  “But I—”

  She shook her head. “No, Lance. Please? I’d rather not right now.”

  Lance sighed and cupped her face in his hands. “I am glad you’re here.”

  She gave a faint smile. “Me too.”

  Dropping his hands from her face, he added. “If you want me to, I can request another reporter. I can assure you though, Chantelle is a professional.”

  “It’s too close to the wedding to think like that.” Andrea scratched at her arms.

  “Are you okay?” He asked.

  A giggle escaped her lips. “We’re getting married.”

  Lance bobbed his head. “It doesn’t seem real.” He placed his hands on top of her shoulders. “How about we have dinner tonight? You and me. No reporters and no cameras. We can even turn off our phones.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can’t take a selfie? I have to at least post something on Instagram.”

  “I think we need a break from all the media.”

  “Well… I would, Babe.” She groaned. “I promised I would have dinner with your mother.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Andrea bit at her bottom lip. “She said she wants to get to know me better as her future daughter-in-law. This may be our only chance to talk between the wedding and us leaving for the honeymoon. Not to mention work. I have meetings that I’ve agreed to do online.”

  Lance’s shoulders drooped. “Did she pressure you? I haven’t talked to her yet, but—”

  She touched his face. “It’ll be fine. I can hold my own with your mother.”

  “Tomorrow night then. You and me. No exceptions.”

  “Agreed.”

  ***

  Chantelle laced her fingers back and forth. She still berated herself for hinting at her past with Lance. Then again, why didn’t he tell Andrea about them? Were there some unresolved feelings that he didn’t want his fiancé to know about? Chantelle could hope, but she wouldn’t let her mind go there.

  Why stay and torture herself? Her feelings for Lance were stronger than ever. Watching him sit across from her with Andrea tore at Chantelle’s insides.
How she wanted to scream from the rooftops, “don’t marry her!” She didn’t. She wouldn’t ruin his life as she had in the past. Though he broke up with her, perhaps she expected too much from him too soon.

  Forgive. Chantelle scrambled over her mac-and-cheese on her plate with her fork. Music played in the background of Delta’s Kitchen, and she inhaled the steam from a hot platter nearby. The home-cooking restaurant always satisfied her stomach in the past, but her stomach only rolled tonight. When Javier called, asking her out to dinner, Chantelle agreed only to tell him the truth.

  “Everything okay?” He took a sip from his water glass.

  “The food is great,” she said.

  “You haven’t eaten it yet.” Javier set down his fork. “Are you sure you’re alright? Is it work?”

  Chantelle didn’t make eye contact. “I’m almost finished.”

  “You don’t sound too excited.”

  “I am.” Did her voice shake? Lifting her chin to stare at him, Javier’s eyes focused on her. He had to have sensed her unease. It was now or never.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Javier.”

  “You don’t feel well? Is it the food?” His forehead wrinkled.

  “It’s not that it’s... us.”

  He sat back in his seat and raised his hand to stroke his chin. “Things moving too fast?”

  She focused her gaze at him. “You’re an amazing man. I know it’s still early and we’re getting to know each other, but…” This was why she preferred writing. How did she put her feelings into words from her own heart?

  Javier finished her sentence. “You don’t feel the same.”

  She rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t say a word for a moment. Then he rested his elbows on the table. The thickness in Chantelle’s throat only made it difficult to swallow.

  Javier answered. “I understand and I appreciate your honesty.”

  “You’re welcome.” She folded the napkin from her lap and set it on the table. “We can leave if it’s too awkward to stay here.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I enjoyed getting to know you. I’ll understand if you didn’t want to see me again,” she said.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Nonsense. It doesn’t mean we can’t hang out as friends.”

 

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