Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding (Crimson Romance) (11 page)

“How long are you planning to stay?” she asked out of frustration.

“Until we get this room clean, and then … ”

“No ‘and then.’ You should go, Justin. This is … awkward. You don’t want to be here anymore than I want you to be here.”

He shook his head. “This theatre will be good for the town. As your congressman, I’m obligated to do what I can to help.”

She rolled her eyes. “Leave, Justin. I wouldn’t want to damage your precious reputation with a questionable association. I can clean up by myself.”

But he didn’t go. Those damn dusty loafers stuck in her view. She reached past him for a crinkled sub wrapper.

“Alice … ”

“Go away.”

He huffed and puffed above her, finally shuffling his feet. “I’m sorry about what happened at the beach. It was inappropriate.”

Her face flushed, and shame rose like bile into her throat as she leaped to stand. “Ha,” she yelled in his face. “I’m not sorry.” Shock at the explosive admission forced a gasp from her lips, but her tirade continued. “You can be sorry, but I wanted that for so many years — too many. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t often get what I want, so I’ll take it.” She shoved him. “I’ll take what I can get.”

His emerald eyes sparked as his brows climbed his forehead. He looked tired and unhinged, and she could only imagine what he was thinking. Whatever it was, it was probably remarkably similar to her thoughts. She was an idiot with a big mouth.

“I’m sorry. I … ”

Alice rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Stop apologizing. I get it. I do. I’ve ruined everything. I’m a screw-up. You look at me and all you see is one giant regret.”

When he squeezed his eyes shut, she knew it was true.

• • •

Justin couldn’t look at Alice as long as her bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into the vortex of his breakdown. He should go home, where he could brood and self-implode in private.

He opened his eyes with every intention of leaving.

“Alice … ” He touched his fingers to her lifted chin and pressed his thumb to her lip, wanting to stop the trembling. Her breath hitched, and he didn’t see a trace of this so-called regret. He saw passion, strength … and breathtaking beauty.

Something raw and rowdy socked him in the gut and twisted his insides until he dropped his hand to her wrist and pulled her in. She squealed as she careened into his chest, but a moment later there was silence when his mouth covered hers. He wanted to make her forget the bad. He needed to forget a few things too. Warped logic? Maybe. But months of strategic planning hadn’t saved him from ending up here, so why not give in?

He parted her lips with his tongue and heated when she softened, her little hums and moans lulling the worry from his mind. Like the purest drug, the high came swift and hard, leaving no room for regrets. Alice made him forget.

His hands roved the soft skin on her back while her hands grasped his biceps. “No regrets,” he whispered against her lips.

She whimpered, and the sound had him sliding his hands over the curves of her bottom, readying to lift her into his arm when …

“Alice,” a man’s voice called from the lobby.

She broke from Justin’s arms, pushing against his chest and stumbling backward until she bumped a filing cabinet. “Charlie,” she whispered, lip quivering, eyes wide. And then she bolted from the box office.

Justin stood reeling from the kiss, cursing the reality that brought Charlie here to remind him of what a mess his life had become — a mess he needed to clean up. Those were his choices: stand and brood or face Charlie, say his peace and put some space between him and the chaos-inducing Cramers.

Justin always was a man of action.

By the time he stepped into the lobby, Alice was pushing Charlie out the front door.

“Let him stay. He owes me an apology.” Justin tensed his muscles, hoping it was enough to hold his body in place and keep his fist from Charlie’s face.

Charlie scoffed overtop Alice’s head. “What’s
he
doing here?”

Good question, and the answer was getting murkier all the time. What
was
he doing here? His lips still burned from the kiss, adding to his sense of disorder. He hadn’t come for that kiss. That
was yet another mistake.

Damn it.
Justin wanted to get a grip. But with anger bubbling his blood, he knew he wasn’t going to be getting a grip on anything but Charlie’s collar.

“Did you think for a minute when you were screwing her that she was someone else’s fiancée?” he asked.

Alice kept her head down and her hands against Charlie’s biceps while she tried in vain to shove him onto the dark street. Charlie smirked as he pushed her away.

“Did you think for a minute when you asked her to marry you that she was in love with someone else?”

Yeah, Justin thought about it, but there wasn’t room for sentimentalities when there was power and progress to gain … or so he’d told himself. And now, here he was, wifeless and powerless while his brothers holed up with Harold and Robert Parrish, making decisions without him. Still, he was better off than the mess of a man who was stalking across the lobby toward him.

“Face it, Charlie. You needed more than love to claim Morgan Parrish. You needed a job … and a new last name.”

“Get out.” Alice rocketed past Charlie to Justin, poking a finger to his chest. “You will not insult
my
family on
my
property.” She backed up against Charlie, raising her arms at her sides, blocking his path to Justin.

The rage in her eyes drilled a hole in Justin’s heart. He’d meant to humiliate Charlie. He dragged Alice into the fray … again. When was he going to stop behaving like a lunatic? When was he going to leave her alone, so they could go back to the way things used to be? Separate. Peaceful.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

When she lifted her chin and closed her eyes in haughty refusal, he surrendered his need to make things right. It was probably better this way. A little anger between them would help him keep his distance.

Dodging her outstretched arm, he left the theatre without another word. No apology from Charlie like Justin expected.

These days, nothing was what he expected.

Emotion warred in Alice’s chest, making it hard to breathe. She was as breathless with anger at Justin’s insult as she had been breathless at his kiss. He made her stark raving mad, but right now Charlie’s mental state was her bigger concern.

He’d never come to her theatre before. She hadn’t seen him since Morgan broke the news. And God only knew the last time he’d seen Justin.

She faced him. “I didn’t know he was coming. I didn’t know you were coming.” Threading fingers into her hair, she tugged at the roots. “I need to start locking that door.”

Charlie stared at the space above her head, looking vacant. She half expected his words to slur. She fully expected his anger.

He opened his mouth and sucked a deep breath. “I want to be a father to that baby,” he said in a whoosh. There wasn’t a slur to be heard. Then he dropped his face to his hands and sobbed. For his baby.

It shredded Alice’s heart.

“I love her. I do.” He lifted his head, and it was as if he flipped a switch. The tears disappeared, leaving the anger she expected in their place. “She loves me too, damn it. It’s this town, the games. These freaking people are insane. He’s crazy too.” Charlie punched a finger at the door where minutes ago Justin had been. “And they’re screwing with us, ruining our lives. Don’t you see it?” He shook his head “I do, and I won’t let them do it anymore. Not to me. Not to her. Not to you.”

Alice had seen him angry before, but this was different. Without alcohol as fuel, he was eerily lucid and strong enough to make good on his vague threat. She placed a hand on her chest to steady her breathing. “Charlie, if you tell people about the baby, you’ll make things worse. Robert will strong-arm her into … ”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “He’ll have to strong-arm me first. I’m going to Connecticut … and I want you to come with me.” He stepped closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s get out of here, away from all their games. We can start over, be whoever we want to be.”

Be something other than Cramers. That’s what he really meant.

An oscillating fan buzzed in the distance, and cooled the sweat spot between her shoulder blades. When the grant came through, she planned to repair the central air conditioning. She doubted even an industrial-sized condenser could banish this kind of heat.

“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head and blinking back tears.

“Because of him?” Charlie sneered, giving her shoulders a shake. “He’s not capable of loving you, Alice.”

“No,” she cried, hoping the louder she talked, the deeper she’d bury the voice in her head that wanted just that. Justin. To love her. She swatted Charlie’s hands from her shoulders. “This has nothing to do with him.” Her throat convulsed. “I don’t want to start over someplace new. I want to finish here. Finish this.” She looked around the ratty room. Good God, she had so far to go.

Charlie shoved his hands into his jean pockets and looked around the room too. He probably saw the same hopeless dream she did.

“Suit yourself,” he said, hitching his lip in the same show of disapproval he used to give Mama when she chose their father over a better life. But when he looked around the room again, his face softened. “If anyone can make this happen, you can.”

Alice threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll be okay. Promise me.”

“I promise.” His lackluster pat on the back wasn’t much assurance, but it would have to do. He was already unlatching her arms and backing toward the door. “I’ll call you when I get there.” And then he disappeared, like Justin had, into the darkness.

She closed the door, twisted the lock and struggled to warm herself against the chill of loneliness. Charlie had never been the best brother, but he was her only brother. When he pulled out of Harmony Falls, she’d be the last Cramer standing. Suddenly that felt like a very scary thing to be.

• • •

After the tumultuous evening, Justin couldn’t sleep. Rather than toss and turn, worrying about his behavior and what was or wasn’t happening in the meeting, he went to work before sunrise. Three hours and two pots of coffee later, he couldn’t think straight, so he stared out his office window across Main Street at a platinum blonde, climbing a ladder in flip flops. She was going to hurt herself.

Reaching over her head with a rag in hand, Alice swiped at the yellowed marquis. One foot slipped off the rung, and she wobbled, grabbing the sides of the ladder with both hands.

He clenched his fists and resisted the urge to walk over there and demand she get down.
Stay away, Justin.
He had no business telling her what to do. Besides, Will was on his way, bringing details from last night’s marathon meeting and a contract bearing Harold Parrish’s name.

Alice stumbled again.

Justin slapped his palms against the radiator and groaned.

“Forget to put money in the meter?”

Will appeared in the doorway. “He got me last week for fifteen bucks. I tried to give him the damn quarter right there, but he refused. Bastard.” He tossed a cocky smile as he strolled to Justin’s desk and dropped a folder. “Signed, sealed and delivered.”

It stung to think he was receiving the details of the meeting secondhand, but Justin did his best to check the bitterness. “Did you have to give up your firstborn?”

Will laughed. “Like there’d ever be one of those to give.”

“Did he undervalue the property?”

“He tried.”

“Did he ask us to finance?”

“He did.”

“And?”

“Robert refused.”

Justin puzzled. “You agreed to finance a thirty-acre land transaction and Robert refused?”

“Yep. Something about the Parrishes not needing to be indebted to the Mitchells.” Will shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s better for us. We get the lump sum for the land rather than payments.”

Justin nodded, agreeing with his brother’s financial assessment, but a sense of foreboding lingered. Then again, maybe the sleeplessness skewed his response.

“I need to run. I have a nine o’clock with Carson to discuss union sanctions at the mill.” He was already moving toward the door. “Look it over and let me know if you have questions.”

Which was pointless. Questions could lead to changes, and it was too late for that. Justin picked up the contract and flipped the pages. Besides, what questions could he possibly have? This was a basic sale of land. The incentives he’d worked so hard to put in place would be levied by local government — Robert Parrish and his board of merry men.

All that power Justin thought he had? Turned out, he had none.

With a sigh, he glanced up from the contract, catching sight of Alice again. She had a broom by the bottommost part of the handle as she stretched her body to reach the furthest corner of the marquis. She was inches from falling — hard — but he was powerless to help her too. And she needed help. She needed someone with the proper equipment to make that theatre operational again. But to hire someone, she needed the grant.

Justin surged with purpose. Maybe he wasn’t powerless after all.

By the time Senator Kathleen Boyd took Justin’s call, he’d made a mental list of the work facing Alice. In his rough estimate, the sixty grand the grant offered would be barely enough to repair the façade she was risking her life to clean.

“I’m calling on behalf of Alice Cramer.” Even though his office door was closed, Justin lowered his voice around her name.

“Encourage her to apply next year,” Kathleen said.

Disappointment furrowed Justin’s brow. “So she didn’t get it?”

“You know I can’t reveal results until the winner has been notified, but as your friend and colleague, I’m telling you to encourage her to apply next year. You can interpret that however you’d like.”

Justin gnawed his bottom lip. There was only one way to interpret it. “And there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind.”