“We’ll be here. See you then.” Nick ended the call.
“She forgot about her wedding because she’s been busy?” Don asked. “What kind of busy keeps you from planning your wedding?”
Nick shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow evening.”
* * *
Without her mother to organize the wedding, Lauren seemed clueless as to how to plan what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. When asked about the cake, she responded, “Whatever you want.”
“Shouldn’t your fiancé be here to help plan his nuptials?” Nick asked.
“He’s a very important man without a lot of spare time,” Lauren explained.
“Your mother put down the deposit. How will the rest be paid?” Don asked, which resulted in a scathing look from his partner.
Lauren, too, looked offended. “Of course, it’s the bride’s family who’s responsible for the wedding.” Was her tone more than just a little bitter?
“In the past. Let’s concentrate on the present,” Don said firmly.
“I don’t know that Jay would be willing to pay for anything,” Lauren said sounding more than a little annoyed.
“Why not? You’re going to be partners in life, right?” Don asserted.
Lauren’s brow furrowed. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Don challenged her.
“Don!” Nick admonished.
Lauren seemed to shrink back, but then answered, “Of course we’re going to be life partners.”
“Then why don’t we postpone our talk until your fiancé can come and be a real part of the launch of your life together as a married couple?” Don suggested.
“I guess I could ask him,” Lauren acquiesced.
“Lauren,” Don said, his voice hardening, “I sometimes get the feeling you’re not all that interested in entering into the bond of holy matrimony.”
“We’re getting married by a judge,” Lauren said in her usual flat voice. “There’s nothing holy about it.”
“Do I take it you’d prefer to be married in a religious ceremony?” Don asked.
“Not really. I mean, I guess I would like the spectacle of it.” And for the first time, Don saw the bride-to-be actually look wistful. “I’m not religious per se, but I love the idea of tying the knot in a quaint little church with stained glass windows, full of all my relatives and every friend I’ve ever known in attendance.”
“But?” Don asked.
Lauren seemed to deflate even more. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of friends or relatives. In fact, most of the people on the invitation list are friends of Jay or are his business colleagues.”
“Who’s your bridesmaid—or matron of honor?” Nick asked.
“Jay’s sister, Jill. Since I’ve known Jay, I’ve lost touch with just about everyone I used to be close to. Right now, I really don’t have a close friend. In fact, I’m really not sure I even like Jill, but someone has to hold my bouquet during the ceremony, right?”
Don flashed a look at his partner that he hoped would say what the heck? He could see a lot of red flags but wasn’t sure it was his place to bring them to Lauren’s attention, but he could at least make one very strong suggestion.
“Lauren, before we move forward with the plans, I really think you need to involve Jay.”
Lauren shook her head. “I’m willing to turn everything over to you guys. I’m not sure I’m up to making all these decisions on my own. I depended on my mother to do all that kind of stuff.”
“Of course we’re up to the task,” Nick said sympathetically which only served to reinforce Don’s ire.
“No. I’m not prepared to move forward without your fiancé’s input,” Don said emphatically, which only invoked another annoyed look from Nick that said, You have got to be kidding!
“Okay,” Lauren acquiesced. “I’ll ask Jay if he’s available but, like I said, he’s a very busy man.”
Don had to literally bite his tongue to keep from commenting. He had never met as mousy a woman as Lauren Washborne.
What could have happened that had beaten the spirit right out of her?
* * *
Later that evening, Nick and Don settled in the nook in their bedroom suite—the first part of the home that had been finished. They, after all, needed a place to sleep. It was an island of calm in the turbulent ocean of what would someday be a calm and relaxing inn.
“What do you know about Lauren?” Don asked as he poured a glass of Scotch from the glass decanter on the game table he’d recently bought for Nick as a birthday gift.
Nick shrugged. “I have a lot more memories of her mother. Marsha and Aunt Sally were good friends for more than thirty years.”
“Marsha had a strong—forceful—personality. Why is Lauren such a wimp?” Don asked.
“Are women wimps?” Nick questioned.
“Lauren is.” And yet—she had stood up to her mother when the question about changing her name had come up.
Nick shrugged. “As I recall, Lauren always kind of disappeared into the woodwork. She also seemed to have a perpetual cold, always blowing her nose and clutching damp tissues with her nose stuck in a book. It must have been hard for her growing up with a single mom.”
“You grew up in a hostile environment and you’re not a wimp,” Don reminded him.
“I’m a guy,” Nick said with a shrug.
“Are you saying women can’t rise above a tough childhood? All you have to do is talk to Katie. My god, she’s the epitome of strength.”
“I’m just saying that some people aren’t as strong.”
Don handed Nick the glass, poured one for himself, and took the chair on the opposite side of the table. “I think she’s making a big, big mistake by marrying that guy.”
“You don’t even know him. And besides, that’s not our call,” Nick said.
“Oh, come on. Is that Nick the inn-owner talking, or Nick the friend to Marsha?”
Nick’s head drooped. “Why do you have to put it in those terms?”
“Because I don’t think Lauren loves that piece of work she’s engaged to. I think she’d be much better off with a cat and a subscription to Psychology Today magazine. At least then she might have some insight into why she lets bullies order her around.”
“Are you saying Marsha was a bully?”
“She seemed more interested in being able to say her daughter was getting married than worrying about said daughter’s happiness.”
Nick let out a breath and pursed his lips. “We’re in the business of selling wedding packages—not acting as psychoanalysts.”
“I get that. And if you recall, I’m the hard-ass in this relationship—not you. So how come all of a sudden you’re taking such a hard line when it comes to pushing forward on a wedding that neither the groom nor bride seems to care about?”
Nick shook his head. “Maybe … maybe because Marsha was my aunt’s friend. I want to honor her wishes.”
“Even if her wishes conflict with what’s best for her daughter?”
Nick frowned. “Well, when you put it that way…maybe not.”
Don sipped his Scotch. “I can’t in good conscience let Lauren marry that bastard—at least not in our house. I think we have to say something to Lauren and offer to return her deposit.”
“Marsha’s deposit,” Nick reminded him.
“What does it matter?” Don asked. “If we have to cancel our first wedding it’s not that big a deal. There will be plenty more of them and plenty of other guests in the future.”
“You’re right,” Nick said, although he sounded just a tad defeated.
“What about the caterers, the photographer, and the bakery?”
“I’m willing to take the financial hit. I really don’t want to have to live with the thought that I was a party to a wedding that seems destined to fail,” Don said.
The men were quiet for several minutes, sipping their Scotch and listening to the quiet music that issued from their stereo system
. It was Don who finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“This argument.”
“We’re not arguing,” Nick pointed out.
“Okay, than a difference of opinion. It’s just that … I’ve had my share of failed relationships. Sometimes I wish someone had spoken up when they saw me taking a wrong turn.”
“That can be the start of the end of a friendship.”
“Maybe, but it might have saved me some heartache.”
Nick shrugged.
Don took another sip of his drink. “Here’s a subject we’ve never spoken about. Did you ever have a girlfriend?”
“Sure. Lots of them. But only because it was expected of me. Back in high school, my girls loved me because I didn’t pressure them for sex. But then when they were ready and I didn’t deliver—I got dumped a lot.”
“Did it hurt?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes more than others. But then I was usually more attracted to the brothers of the girls I went out with.”
Don smiled. That had been his experience, too—one that couldn’t be voiced way back when. And like so many other guys he’d met during his life, a common experience.
But things had improved during the intervening years—and for the better.
Yes, he and Nick found happiness with each other. Was happiness even on the table when it came to Lauren and Jay?
Chapter 3
It was just after the next stormy, rainy evening when Jay Martin strode into Sassy Sally’s front parlor with a hint of a sneer curling the left side of his mouth. Despite trying to keep an open mind, already Nick found himself disliking the man. Okay, perhaps he’d already made that character assessment when the guy couldn’t be bothered to even attend his future mother-in-law’s funeral, but Nick could almost read the man’s mind as he glanced at the room’s old-fashioned elegance. He probably was allergic to anything that wasn’t made of steel, chrome, or glass.
“Lauren, what were you thinking?” Jay said at last, his tone decidedly condescending.
Lauren hung her head. “It was mother’s idea for us to get married here.”
Jay looked around at the restored cherry paneling that for decades had been hidden behind sheetrock, at the upholstered furniture clad in rich brocades, the Persian rug under their feet, and obviously didn’t appreciate the care that had gone into resurrecting the old Victorian lady. “I guess at this late date, it will have to do.”
“We did encourage Lauren to bring you here early in the planning process,” Don said. “Apparently you were too busy.”
Jay turned a glacial glare in Don’s direction. “I own my own award-winning PR firm: Martin Integrated Marketing and Advertising.” He said it as though that was supposed to impress them.
“Is that so?” Don said blandly.
Nick resisted the urge to kick his partner, although he had to admit, Jay looked the part of a smart executive, from his shiny black shoes to his dark three-piece, pin-striped suit, short-cropped dark hair, and glasses.
“I knew I should have taken care of this. Cara,” Jay turned to Nick, “my secretary, offered to set everything up, but Marsha wouldn’t hear of it. And then after she died, Lauren assured me she could handle everything.” He swung his angry glance toward his fiancée. “What’s this stalling all about?”
“It was mother’s idea,” she said again, her voice sounding shaky. “She wanted to help Nick and Don out by hosting the wedding here. She thought it would make a good portfolio piece for their website.”
Nick shot a look toward his husband, who looked just as confused. Marsha hadn’t mentioned that during any of their talks.
“That was very generous of her,” Don said.
“Sounds to me like you guys need the help of a firm such as mine if you expect to make a name for yourselves.”
“We’ve got a marketing plan in place,” Don said, which was only half true. Aside from setting up the website and taking out a few ads in local magazines set for after the holidays, they hadn’t had a chance to make a long-term commitment for promotion.
Jay ignored Don and turned back to Lauren. “What’s on the menu for the reception?”
“It’ll be finger foods—a seafood medley,” Lauren supplied.
Nick actually started at that news. They hadn’t even discussed a menu.
“I don’t like seafood,” Jay asserted.
“There’ll be other things available as well. An assortment of cold cuts, fruits, and vegetables,” Lauren continued.
“I understood we were having a sit-down dinner. How many seats does your dining room accommodate?” Jay asked, turning away from his future bride.
“Twelve,” Nick said.
Jay pivoted and turned a furious eye on Lauren. “You know we’ve invited thirty guests. Where are they going to sit?”
“It’s a casual reception. People can sit anywhere they want in any of the common rooms.”
“Uh, we’re still in the process of renovation,” Don pointed out, sounding just a little defensive. “The library won’t be finished until next month.”
“Where are we going to put thirty people?” Jay asked again, his ire growing.
“I’m sure it’ll all work out,” Lauren said patiently.
“What about the cake?”
“Mother thought traditional was the way to go. A two-tiered cake with lemon curd filling and garnished with pretty yellow roses.”
“That sounds disgustingly ordinary,” Jay groused.
Did he expect someone to jump out of the cake? Nick wondered. And there’d been no mention of lemon curd when Marsha and he had talked about the cake, either. Where was Lauren coming up with all this misinformation? Was she making it up on the fly?
And then it occurred to Nick that maybe she was doing just that. He glanced in her direction and she gave him an almost unperceivable nod that seemed to say follow my lead.
“Uh, I may have forgotten to mention it, but we’ve had a little problem with the bathroom in the honeymoon suite,” Nick said.
“Problem?” Jay asked and turned, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes. The toilet. But the bathroom in the Square Suite is working—at least the bath. The shower won’t be finished until next month, I’m afraid.”
“Next month?” Don asked, sounding confused.
Jay turned on Lauren, and Nick gave Don a look that said bear with me.
“Oh, yeah. But since there won’t be anyone else staying at the inn that night, I’m sure it won’t be much of an inconvenience. Unless you’d prefer to stay in the Square Suite. The mattress is scheduled to arrive just before the wedding.”
“And what size is the bed?” Jay asked.
“A double.”
“A double?” Jay demanded.
“Well, actually, it’s a little smaller than a double,” Don explained. “It’s an antique brass bed. It’ll be very cozy for your wedding night.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Again, Jay turned to Lauren. “Did you know about all this?”
“Um, I may have forgotten to mention it. I mean, we’ve had so little time to speak these last few weeks while you’ve been working on your big campaign for Radley Motors.”
“It’s an important account. It needs my personal supervision.”
“I know,” Lauren said sincerely. “Just like all your others,” she added under her breath.
“What other decisions have you made without my input?” Jay asked bluntly.
“To tell the truth, I didn’t think you were interested.”
“With nearly thirty people coming—judging this event—I’m interested now.”
“I think we can iron all that out tonight. But there was something important I think we should discuss.”
“What’s that?” Jay asked.
“Well, it’s my biological clock. It’s ticking…loudly. As my mother pointed out on so many occasions, I’m not getting any younger. I think we should start our family right away.”
&n
bsp; “Family?” Jay asked hotly.
“Why, yes. We’re going to need to move into a house.”
“The plan was for you to move into my condo.”
“But it’s much too small for more than two people. Did I mention that twins run in my family?”
Jay’s eyes bulged. “We never talked about having children.”
Lauren’s eyes widened in what looked like distress. “I just assumed….”
“Well, you assumed wrong,” Jay said harshly.
“Oh, dear,” Lauren said, looking stricken. “Because … because in anticipation of our wedding night, I kind of … stopped using birth control.”
“You what?” Jay shouted.
“Not only that, but … my little friend seems to be late this month.”
Jay looked about ready to explode and he lunged at his fiancé.
For a moment, Nick thought the man might just hit Lauren, who shied away as though to avoid such a blow, but Don instantly intervened. “I think we need to take a few minutes to cool down and discuss the rest of the wedding plans in a quiet and rational way.”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding,” Jay said savagely.
“But—but, Jay…” Lauren protested.
“I’ve put up with you and your insipid ideas for far too long, Lauren. It’s now apparent to me that we have little—actually zero—in common.”
“But, Jay—?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d give me back my ring. We’re calling this marriage off!”
Nick felt six kinds of awful as Lauren’s eyes filled and she reached for the ring with its solitaire setting, twisting it until it came off of the third finger of her left hand. “Are you sure this is what you want, Jay?” she asked tearfully, handing it to him.
He placed it in the pocket of his vest. “I’m afraid so, Lauren. I think it’s best for both of us. And it’s a good thing we drove separately. At least now I won’t have to take you home.”
Jay didn’t bother with a goodbye to any of them and simply walked toward the foyer, retrieved his overcoat. As a parting shot, he shouted, “And now I’ll have to forfeit the deposit on my tux.” And with that, he left Sassy Sally’s, slamming the big oak door behind him.
The Reluctant Bride Page 2