Deceiving The Groom (6 page)

Chapter Six

Waking up was like swimming through mud. Liam blinked. Light pierced his eyeballs. Shit bags, his head hurt. He squeezed his lids shut again. His head pounded, and his mouth tasted like wool. He rolled onto his back and groaned.

What the hell happened last night? His stomach churned. He tried to make his dry tongue swallow. He remembered going to dinner and having a few drinks, but sometime after the show they went to, things blurred into blackness.

He rested his arm over his eyes. How much had he drank? Sweet Jesus—Claire.  He bolted upright and squinted. The room came into glary focus. He peered around. There was no sign of her. Had his drunkenness scared her off? He wouldn’t blame her, he couldn’t stand a drunk. So how’d he gone so overboard?

He glanced at the bedside table. A full glass of orange juice sat on a folded piece of paper. Liam leaned over and tugged it from under the glass. Juice slopped over the edge onto the paper. He shook it and wiped his hand over the liquid, then flicked it open.

His eyes refused to read but he forced the words into his hazy brain. The churning in his stomach dropped. Damn… He really had blown things with Claire. She would see him back in Hopetown? She hoped last night wasn’t too hard on him?

What had he done? They had separate flights and he knew she had her meetings, but why wouldn’t she say goodbye? He scrunched up the paper and threw it across the room. This was beginning to feel like a theme.

Liam slid his legs out of bed and padded naked to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower, maybe then things would make a little sense.

The steady jet of cool water helped ease the fog in his head.

He wiped the condensation from the mirror and lathered his jaw and neck with shaving cream. Picking up his razor, he leaned towards the mirror. He slid the razor down his cheek in one clean swipe. His gaze caught on a shadow on his forehead.

Liam rinsed the razor under the tap then leaned closer. A bruise the size of a quarter marred his forehead just above his right eyebrow. He ran his finger over it. It was tender but didn’t hurt. His chest panged. Shit. What the hell happened last night? 

A faint ringing snapped him out of the examination. He wrapped a towel around his waist and strode back into the bedroom, snatching his phone from the bedside table.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Channing?” The female voice that answered was unfamiliar.

Liam wiped at the shaving cream dribbling from his neck with the back of his hand. “Yes.”

“This is Linda, manager at Hopetown Bank.”

Liam frowned. His purchase of the bank had just settled a week ago. Why would she be calling while he was out of town?

“What can I do for you, Linda?”

Her throat cleared softly at the end of the line. “Well, I hope I’m not disturbing you, this is a courtesy call.  Do you know if you are in possession of all your credit cards?”

Liam’s brows drew together. “I believe so.” He slid open the drawer of the side table and peered inside. His wallet was not where it should be.

“Mr. Channing, we’ve had some anomalies register on our system, and well…your account has been overdrawn.”

Liam glanced across the room. “I think you’re mistaken, Linda. My accounts can’t be overdrawn.”

The wallet had to be somewhere. His pants and shirt from the night before rested in a heap on the armchair. Holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, he went to the pants and stuffed his hand in the back pocket. The cool leather of his wallet met his fingers, its weight a relief in his palm when he dragged it out.

“This one appears to have a limit of ten thousand dollars.”

Liam mouth drew to the side and he opened his wallet. The only card he had with a limit was the petty cash card for the office, and he never used that. He ran his fingers over the cards, nothing was missing, but…his work credit card not in it usual place. What had he been doing using this last night? It was still a black blur.

This is why he never drank to excess.

Liam took the phone in his hand again and held the offending card up to inspect. “Linda, can you tell me what the purchases were for?”

“Certainly, Mr. Channing.”

Linda rattled off a list of purchases. He’d paid for an insane bar tab, a heinous casino tab, but the last charge Linda rattled off caused him drop the credit card.

“What!”

He hadn’t intended to yell, but he heard the cringe in Linda’s voice when she replied. “That’s three thousand five hundred dollars at Marcie Bloom Bridal.”

His heart ricochet off his ribcage like it had been shot from a pistol. “I don’t understand.”

“Are you saying that you did not authorize this purchase?”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. The underside of his wrist smeared shaving cream from his cheek. “I can’t remember…” He breathed in and his eyes snapped open. “Claire!”

“Pardon?”

Liam chuckled and his hand fell from his face. The explanation was clear. “It’s alright Linda, I know what happened. My date is a wedding dress designer, she must have wanted something.” He bent down and picked up his card. “Just transfer some funds from my account to clear it all up.”

“Certainly, Mr. Channing.”

Liam slid the card back into the wallet. “And thank you for calling, Linda.”

“No problem, Mr. Channing. You’ll be pleased to know we take the security of all our customers very seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They hung up and Liam tossed the wallet and phone on the bed. He tugged the towel off from around his waist and wiped his chest and arm where his shaving cream had smeared. It looks like he’d be finishing his shave in the shower.

He walked back into the bathroom.

What he had purchased Claire in the middle of the night from a bridal store? Probably something for her work, but maybe it was something pretty and impulsive that he hadn’t been able to deny her. He liked that idea better. He turned on the shower and waited for the stream to heat. For one tiny yet vivid moment, an image of Claire cloaked in a startling white dress blared through his mind.

Claire worried her nail with her teeth. Her stomach rolled. She’d thrown up three times this morning, but it wasn’t the drinking the night before that’d done it. It was the guilt sickening her like poison. How could she have actually gone through with such a cold hearted plan?

“I think it’s best if I cancel, Geoff.”

Geoff raised his brow and placed a receipt into the manila folder on the table. “Claire, staying here wearing a hole in my hotel room carpet is not going to help the situation any.”

“I know, but he’s going to call. Any minute he is going to remember and call, and out us.”

“If he was going to remember you would’ve heard by now.” Geoff picked her handbag up from the table and held it out to her. “Remember the
other
reason your here. All your things are set up and ready, all you need to do is go wow them.”

Claire took the bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. Her brain buzzed. “I have such a bad feeling about this whole thing…” She had no idea what part she was more afraid of, getting found out or having Liam know the truth about her.

“We have everything we need in here.” Geoff closed the folder and held it up. “Photos of the beautiful wedding, receipts with purchase from his account, but most important, we have the email I sent from his mailbox, and that, my dear cousin, proves intent, and eliminates the chance for an annulment.” He tossed the folder casually into the briefcase.

Her eyes expanded. “You hacked his account?”

Geoff looked up from his briefcase, an eyebrow skewed. “I did what I had to do.”

“This just keeps getting worse.” Claire rubbed her temples with one hand.” He’s not going to take it well, you know. He’ll do everything he can to fight it.”

Geoff closed the lid and clicked the locks into place. “He wouldn’t be the first man to make accusations of his bride when things go sour. We have all the evidence we need. No one will believe him.”

His words didn’t have the effect intended. The churning in her belly became a spasm. She felt like being sick again. “At least I don’t have to keep this up anymore. My part is done.”

“What do you mean?”

Claire glanced back at Geoff. He had his I’m-about-to-have-a-tantrum scowl on. “I got him to the church, now the rest is your part. You get the divorce or whatever.”

Geoff stormed back to her. “No, Claire. Your part is far from done. Liam not remembering works in our favor. It gives us more time to build a case. You have to keep seeing him.”

“That’s not going to happen.” She got the words out, said them and all—too bad she couldn’t believe them.

Three days after the Vegas trip she still felt ill. Claire perched on the edge of her bed, cell phone in hand. She needed to speak to Penny, needed to make sure she was okay. She needed to hear her sweet voice and remember why she’d done this.

She dialed the number. Again, it rang twice and went straight to voicemail. She couldn’t deny it anymore.

Her calls were being screened. 

Claire threw the phone across the room. It bounced off the wall. Damn that cold hearted bitch who called herself an aunt.

She stormed across her room to the hallway of the B&B and pounded on door of her cousin’s room. It flew open.

Geoff stood in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?” He glared at her through slitted eyes.

“Just give it to me, Geoff.”

Geoff strolled to his side table and tossed her his cell phone. “Manners wouldn’t go astray.”

Claire’s expression silenced him and he sat back in the large leather recliner in the corner of his room. Claire dialed the numbers, pacing the room.

“Hello?” the high voice answered.

“Aunt Justine.”  

Geoff sat up straight, shaking his head.

“Claire… Whatever are you doing calling from Geoffrey’s phone?”

“I seem to be having problems with my cell phone. I couldn’t get through.” Claire threw Geoff a pointed look.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“I’d like to talk to Penny.”

“I’m sorry, but Penny is busy. She won’t be able to speak tonight.”

Claire spoke, breath held in her chest. “That’s what you said last week, and the week before. Tell me, when will she be free?”

The silence that followed said more than her next words. “Frankly dear, I don’t like your tone.”

Claire pressed her fist to her temple as if she could somehow stop the desperation from spewing from her mind. “She’s my sister. You can’t stop us from speaking.”

“I am her guardian. I can do whatever I believe is in the child’s best interests. Not excluding keeping her away from questionable influences!” Aunt Justine’s voice took on the cruel edge that used to plunge Claire into hopeless submission.

She shut her eyes for a moment, the familiar shame coming back to scar her again. She was not
that
girl anymore. “Questionable influences? Really, after all this time it all comes back to one indiscretion? Now I’m the rotten fruit?”

“One indiscretion? Well, that’s not what the papers called it. Scandal, outrage, perversion. That’s what they dubbed it.”

Claire silenced the broken sound that tried to escape her.

“That’s what you are, Claire. You’re a perversion. I always saw it in you. I always knew you were cheap.”

The words were a slap. A slap that snapped her back from the hole she was falling into. “I’m not cheap.”

“What would you call it then, a teenage girl who becomes the mistress of a politician?”

Claire’s heart rose to her throat. She couldn’t deny the accusation. It didn’t mean the implication was just. Claire drew a deep breath into her diaphragm. “I wasn’t his mistress, I was his girlfriend. He was already separated. I was eighteen and he was nice to me—he was the only person who was actually nice to me.”

Her aunt’s humorless laugh dripped with venom. “Oh yes, I remember how nice he was to you, the papers listed it all. Jewelry, fancy hotels, all on the tax-payers dollar.”

As quickly as the shame rose, up surged the remnants of her resentment. “I didn’t know that. I. Did. Not. Know.”

Silence taunted her. Claire glanced across the room and caught her cousin watching. He held his chin with his bent index finger and thumb. The frown he wore made her wonder if he really cared, or if he just worried she was getting him in trouble by using his phone.

Aunt Justine broke the quiet with her final barb. “I have come to the realization that these conversations are no longer healthy for Penny. I suggest you reconsider your attitude. Then and only then, will I decide if you are to be trusted with her again.”

Panic slammed through her. “No—”

“Goodbye, Claire.”

The line went dead and the phone beeped menacingly in her ear. Claire’s lungs heaved. The room spun. She staggered against the wall. The phone slipped from her fingers.