Blair laid her head down on the bar. “I like pickles.”
“I know.” He was glad she was too drunk to hear the sorrow in his voice.
Her head jerked up, and her eyes widened. “I have to find somewhere to stay tonight.”
“Blair, I’ve already figured it out. Let’s eat, and then we’ll talk about it.”
She laid her head down on her arm. “Okay.”
He watched her for several seconds, wondering what had made her so upset. He’d only seen her this drunk once before—the night she’d learned that her mother was moving from Kansas City to Des Moines. He had been her anchor then.
Now she was a mess, and she literally had nowhere to go. He wasn’t about to leave her here. He could spend the rest of his life beating himself up over something that was already done, or he could try to make things right. And other than Blair, Garrett wasn’t a man to live in the past and dwell on mistakes. Now was the time to act.
He asked the bartender to have the food sent to his room, and then he helped Blair off her stool. “Come on, Blazer. They found you a room.”
She lifted her head slightly. “They did?”
“Yeah, your attorney skills must be up to notch. All that talk about suing convinced them to find you one.” He reached for her. “Let me help you find it.”
She sat up and fumbled as she batted his hands away. “I don’t need any help. Especially not from you.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Of course you don’t. But they asked me to escort you. So there’s no further lawsuit-worthy issues.”
Her nose scrunched. She was clearly confused, but drunk enough to believe him. She slid off the stool and reached for her overnight bag, nearly tripping when she tugged it off the ground.
He grabbed the bag and slung her purse over his shoulder too.
She shook her head and nearly fell over. “I don’t think that bag goes with your outfit.”
He grabbed her elbow to steady her. The bag was made of off-white, uber-shiny patent leather with a shiny gold clasp. It had probably cost a fortune. When he compared it to his jeans and pale blue button-up shirt covered in red stains from the Bloody Mary the passenger next to him had spilled during the turbulence, he flashed her a cocky grin. “Really? I thought jeans went with everything.”
She looked up into his face, her eyes searching his. “Why do you still have to be funny? And cute?” She slapped his chest, then left her hand there. “Why aren’t you fat and bald?”
“Because, Blair Myers, as you and I both know, there’s really no such thing as justice in this world.” He kept his tone light and teasing, although perhaps this chance meeting proved there was justice in the world. He deserved every bit of pain it brought him. That seemed like justice to him.
She lifted her chin. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I never asked.”
She jerked out of his hold and put her hands on her hips. “I’m not good enough for the high and mighty Garrett Lowry?”
“You know me, Blazer. Never go to the same pasture twice.” She’d accused him of that once, right before they left law school. It had stung deeper than he’d let on.
“I’m the best lay you ever had, Lowry.”
“It’s been too long and too many pastures ago to say, Blazer, but I’m sure you make the top five.” He knew she was beyond drunk when she had no reply. “Come on, the hotel staff asked me to show you to your room.”
He reached for her arm again, grateful when she didn’t shrug him off. He led her to the elevator, slightly worried the hotel staff would think he was taking advantage of her inebriation. But Blair’s drunken threats seemed to have staved off any such worries. Once they got on the elevator, his thankfulness turned to anger. Anyone could have taken advantage of her. But he knew that wasn’t true. Blair Myers was nobody’s fool, drunk or not. The fact that she trusted him now told him that she still cared about him. At least on some level.
When they reached his room, he pulled out his key and opened the door, leading her inside.
“There’s already a suitcase in here,” she said as she wobbled across the room. She kicked off her heels mid-stride.
“It’s mine,” he said, watching her. “They brought it up here when they asked me to show you to your room.” It was utter nonsense, but she was drunk enough to buy it. If he let on that the room had originally been his, there was no way she would stay in it, drunk or not.
“Oh.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m still not sleeping with you.” She waved her left hand, the diamonds in her ring catching the light. “I’m not a cheater.”
He leaned his ass against the dresser. “I never cheated on you, Blair.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “No, I’ll give you that. I guess you’d left me before you slept with her.” He knew who she was talking about, of course. He hadn’t slept with her, but this wasn’t the time for an explanation. Blair glanced at his suitcase, then back at him. “You don’t live in Phoenix?”
“Nope. Looks like we both got stranded here.”
“So where are you going to sleep?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t gotten that far in this crazy scheme. “After I know you’re settled, I can go back to the airport.”
She fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, leaving it gaping open, so that he could see the swell of her breasts in her black bra and the creamy flesh of her abdomen.
God help him, but he was getting turned on by a drunk woman.
But this wasn’t just any drunk woman. This was Blair. Blair. How many nights had he thought of her naked body, the feel of her beneath him as he filled her…But it didn’t matter what his body—or his mind—remembered. He wasn’t about to try anything with her. He respected her more than that.
She settled back onto the bed, her legs curled to the side, and stared up at the ceiling. “You can’t go to the airport.” She licked her bottom lip and then sighed. “You can stay here.”
“It’s your room, Blazer. Besides, you already said you weren’t going to have sex with me.”
She awkwardly reached over and patted the other side of the mattress. “It’s a big bed, and I’m a used pasture. You can sleep over there.”
He wanted to stay with her, but based on the way he couldn’t take his eyes off the curve of her hips in her skirt or her exposed cleavage, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “That is a very generous offer, but maybe I should head out now that you’re settled.” He could always grab some food at the airport. God knew, she could probably use both burgers after all the whiskey she’d downed.
She sat up and tears filled her eyes. “You’re leaving me again.”
Something in her voice ripped his heart to shreds. He’d sooner set himself on fire than make her feel that way again.
“No, Blair,” he said softly. “I’m not leaving you.” He moved to the bed and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her close. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.” But her eyes sunk closed.
They sat there for five minutes, Blair dozing against him as he cradled her to his chest. He closed his eyes and drank her in—the sight of her, the smell of her, the familiarity of her. The scab on his heart ripped open, leaving him bruised and raw. She only wore an engagement ring. That meant she probably wasn’t married yet. Maybe in the morning when she was sober, they could talk, and he could tell her everything—that he was an utter idiot, but he was miserable without her, and he’d do anything to win her back. Literally anything.
Maybe there was hope for them.
Room service knocked on the door, and he gently settled her back onto the bed before he signed for the food. He considered waking her to eat, but she looked so peaceful he couldn’t disturb her. He ate his burger while he checked his email and studied for his deposition in the morning, all the while sneaking glances at her. Watching her was surreal. He’d never expected to see her again, let alone have her on his bed. Of course, he’d prefer to have he
r doing other things in his bed, but the peace and happiness he felt in her mere presence was a telling sign of how he felt.
Soon her draw was too strong. He changed into a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts and carefully lay down on the bed next to her, both of them on top of the comforter. She stirred, and he studied her face, taking in every detail and committing it to memory in case she refused to listen to him, which, he realized, was the most likely scenario. Blair was firmly against second chances. The way she’d turned her back on her father was proof enough of that.
She sighed and rolled over again, pressing her back to his stomach. He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up and accuse him of trying to take advantage of her. But she soon stilled, pulling his arm tighter against her stomach. He breathed in her scent, drowning in memories. She still used the same vanilla-scented shampoo.
“I miss you, Garrett,” she mumbled, and he froze. If she hadn’t said his name, he would have thought she was talking about her fiancé/husband. But she had said his name. So he wasn’t the only one who still had feelings.
He could make this work. He’d figure out a way. Screw Neil’s damn wedding. Screw the Norfolk depositions. He’d stay here with her as long as it took to convince her to give him a second chance.
But when he woke the next morning, the room still dark, he was devastated to find her side of the bed empty.
Blair was gone.
Chapter Three
Blair leaned her head back against the seat on her flight to Kansas City. Tears stung her eyes, making her angry.
What the hell had happened?
She would have chalked it up to an alcohol-induced hallucination, but she was sober when the airline had texted at four-thirty—hung over, yes, but very sober. And there was no denying Garrett Lowry had been in her bed.
She’d panicked, bolting off the mattress and taking stock of her clothing. Skirt and blouse had both been on, if more than a little wrinkled, although the latter had been completely unbuttoned. All her undergarments had still been intact. The only things missing had been her shoes, which had been strewn on the floor. Even Garrett had been dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She couldn’t remember much after seeing him at the bar, just bits and pieces. Something about horses and lawsuits, which made no sense. She vaguely remembered a woman telling her there wasn’t a room for her after all. So how had she ended up in a room with Garrett? Oh, God. Had she gotten all nostalgic and begged him to sleep with her?
She was going to die of embarrassment.
Her first mistake had been asking for a second drink. Then a third. And so on. She couldn’t hold her liquor, as evidenced by her behavior the night before. Or by how little of it she remembered. She groaned and squeezed her eyes tight. No matter what she’d done—or hadn’t done—it chafed her that she’d lost control. Blair did not lose control. Ever.
But there was still the question of why he’d spent the night with her. She couldn’t help wondering if they’d had sex and then redressed. She couldn’t imagine Garrett staying with her otherwise. But if that was the case, she’d cheated on Neil. Regardless of whether anything had actually happened, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she still wanted him. Even after all these years and what he’d done to her. She wanted him, and that in and of itself was the same as cheating.
The thought made her want to throw up.
She was just like her father.
She shuddered, and the flight attendant was at her side in moments. One of the perks of business class. “Do you need a blanket, Ms. Hansen?”
Blair smiled up at her. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.” Of course, she was anything but fine. She prided herself on never falling to pieces, no matter what the situation, but now she felt like a shattered sheet of glass. And she had no idea what to do about that.
Her plane landed after nine, and she checked her phone to see multiple missed calls during the flight from the office and one from Neil. She groaned as she pulled her carry-on bag from the overhead bin. She hadn’t called anyone the night before to tell them about being grounded in Phoenix.
She called her assistant as she walked to the terminal.
“Oh, my God, Blair!” Melissa gushed as soon as she answered. “I’ve been worried sick. I tried to call you last night, and you never answered.”
“I’m sorry. I got stuck in Phoenix overnight—gusting winds or some such shit. I just landed, but I’m going to be late. Stall Lopez for the deposition.” She chuckled. “That shouldn’t be too hard. I doubt he’s eager to see me after our last encounter.”
“Um…Lopez couldn’t make it. They’ve sent someone else from his firm, but he’s going to be late too. He says he should be here around eleven.”
“They change attorneys last minute, and the new guy can’t even bother to show up on time? Never mind.” Blair shook her head, getting angry as she maneuvered her rolling bag through the mass of people standing at the gate. She wasn’t going to be on time either, but it was the principle of the matter. “Then I’m going home to shower. I slept in my clothes last night, and I don’t have a clean change of clothes in my bag.”
“But you have an appointment at ten forty-five with Ben Stuart. In his office.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she stopped moving, causing a man to slam into her back. He broke out into a string of curses as she moved to the side. “Wait. Ben? Why?”
“He didn’t say, but he told me to keep it secret. Off the books, even.”
She sucked in a breath. Ben was a junior partner, and although he’d introduced Blair to Neil two years ago, they rarely spoke, and they never had meetings.
She started walking again. If she was meeting with Ben, then she definitely needed a shower and a change of clothes. Something was amiss. “But I was supposed to be in the deposition at ten. When did he request the meeting?”
“He came down here looking for you this morning. He found out about the deposition delay and told me to have you swing by his office at ten forty-five.”
“You didn’t tell him you didn’t know where I was, did you?” she asked in a panic.
“Do you take me for an amateur? No, I covered for you.”
True, she’d been in L.A. for a work matter, and she couldn’t help the plane delays, but no one at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece liked to hear excuses. And Blair did her damnedest to make sure she never needed one. While Ben was only a junior partner, he still had voting power, and it was rumored he had influence with the senior partner Robert Sisco Sr. himself. “Thanks, Melissa. I owe you,” she said as she hurried through the sliding glass doors and out into the August heat.
August was miserable in Kansas City. It was hot and humid, and it was landlocked besides, so there was no escaping to the beach. Why Neil’s parents had insisted on an August wedding was beyond her, but it wasn’t worth fighting over. She wasn’t one of those girls who made a huge fuss over wedding frills, although that wasn’t to say she wasn’t obsessed over the details. The senior and junior partners at the firm were invited to the wedding, and they and their wives would critique every detail, down to the distance between the tines on the salad forks. Blair wasn’t about to give them a single reason to deny her partnership.
Melissa lowered her voice. “There are rumors going around that they’re about to offer someone a partnership. Maybe the meeting is about that. Just take me with you when you get Rolland’s corner office, and we’ll call it good.”
While Blair hoped it was true, she couldn’t see how. A senior partner would be offering her the position, not a junior partner. “You know I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind. I can’t function without you. Speaking of the corner office, have you checked with the caterer?”
“Yes, he left a message that they’re substituting shrimp for the crab. I plan to call him and let him know there will be absolutely no substitutions. His contract says they are part of the menu, and the fact that they’ve gone up in price isn’t our concern.”
Blair felt a stab of guilt. Ordinarily, she
would have let the crab legs go, but Robert Sr. loved crab legs. She’d heard stories of Robert Sr. walking out of dinners that didn’t provide them, and she needed him to stay for at least half the reception. Rumor had it that he was happy if he stayed until the dancing started. She wasn’t about to push her luck. “Good. Anything else I should be aware of?”
“Um…” She hesitated. “I’ll tell you when you get in.”
Blair stopped next to her car and dug her keys out of her purse. “No, tell me now. I can’t take any more surprises.” She liked to be prepared for any outcome, and surprises left her scrambling.
“Dr. Fredrick’s mother called. She has another change.”
“What? What is it this time?” Blair stopped, her car door half-open. His mother had been nothing short of a nightmare with all her changes and substitutions. Debra Fredrick was a tacky, judgmental, small-town, small-minded woman who had already involved herself in every minute decision involving the wedding. Blair had agreed to some of her suggested changes to keep peace, like putting Neil’s brother’s fiancée in charge of the guest book to give her a role in the wedding. Or like agreeing to her tacky rehearsal dinner plans. After all, any negotiation was about picking your battles, and it had been much more important to refuse Debra’s suggestion that the groom’s cake be changed to a clown. Apparently Neil had been one of the only children in the world to love clowns rather than finding them terrifying. Blair shuddered to imagine what the woman wanted, especially since her demands had gotten more and more outrageous the closer they got to the wedding. Just last week she’d nixed Debra’s plan of releasing doves with helium balloons tied to the birds’ feet. Blair had tried to convince her it was unnecessary since the birds were capable of flight. Nothing had swayed her, so Melissa had made an anonymous call, and Debra had found herself facing the very real threat of PETA picketing outside the church and ruining the wedding.
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