InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (46 page)

            “Perfect,” Tia
nodded. “I like this wine, too. It would go perfectly with a lobster main dish,
don’t you think? It’s light and smooth with just a touch of sweetness.”

            Jessa wrote
the name of the wine in her notebook. “Got it,” she said, as the sous chef
brought out a sampling of cold salads.

            Every single
dish the chef created in her new incredible kitchen with panoramic views of
Lake Michigan; from soup to salad to main dish to dessert; was like a sexy
dance on Tia’s tongue, and Jessa took careful notes and arranged them into
menus for each day. They helped Neil and his assistant chop vegetables and mix
sauces, and in between started working out the seating arrangements for the
night of the wedding dinner.

            “You know,
this would be a lot easier if I knew which of the guys were bringing dates.”
Lexi’s ears perked up and she quickly lowered her head before they noticed her
interest. She didn’t know how she would feel about Bo bringing a date, but she
did know that she wasn’t relishing having him and Ryan in such close proximity
for the long weekend. Ryan had made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do
with Bo or any of the other guys, and had been a serious downer at every
function they’d attended so far that had anything to do with Tia and Dylan. In
the pit of her stomach she was dreading the possibility that he’d ruin her fun
by being anti-social and rude. Obviously she wasn’t going to be able to spend
any time with Bo one-on-one, which meant they wouldn’t have a chance to resolve
the uncomfortable feelings between them. If anything, having Ryan there would
only increase the level of discomfort between her and Bo, and she saw the
potential for Ryan to suck the fun out of the whole weekend. She pulled herself
out of her thoughts and saw that Jessa had already moved on to another topic.

            “It certainly
doesn’t help that I don’t know a thing about the venue,” Jessa groaned. “I
don’t even know if we’re indoors or out, I don’t know what the weather will be
like…what sort of centerpieces are we going to put on the tables? There’s a big
difference between, say, an elegant dinner in a swanky hotel and an informal
meal on the beach.”

            Tia just
smiled. Ever since they’d gotten there, the girls had both been digging for
clues about the location, but she refused to give them even a hint. “I guess
we’ll just have to be prepared for every eventuality, then.”

            “I’m not used
to having so many things outside of my control,” Jessa said, “and I have to
tell you that the person from the venue is frustrating the hell out of me. I
don’t know anything about the décor of the place, the china patterns, the
stemware—all I keep getting are assurances that everything is ‘top notch.’
That’s just not enough for me to go on. I don’t even know if this person is a
guy or a girl, because they won’t even talk to me—I only have an email address,
and ‘Sam’ has ignored all my requests to speak in person or connect me with
someone else who can give me some straight answers. I’m going with guy, though,
because a woman would understand how important all those details are. All I’ve
been able to get out of Sam are some hand-drawn maps of the table layout and a
fuzzy picture of a place setting. I think he might be certifiably insane, if
you want to know the truth. Do either you or Dylan actually know this
person?—because I’m really starting to worry.”

            Tia covered
her mouth with her hand and coughed to stifle a giggle. She knew that “Sam” was
actually Tony, and that in the interest of keeping the secret for his own
reasons, he wasn’t even letting his own assistant in on the details. Dylan had
told her on a few occasions that Tony was having entirely too much fun messing
with Jessa along the way. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “Let’s just worry about
the things we can control, OK? Who brought the catalogues with place cards and
wedding favors?”

            Tia was
putting away the last of the dishes when the elevator door opened and Dylan all
but tumbled out. “Heeeyyyy baaaby girrrll,” he slurred, wrapping his arms
around her and leaning against her for support.

            “You, my love,
are drunk,” she smiled. He reeked of cigar smoke and whiskey, and his eyes were
spider webbed with squiggly red veins. “I’m guessing you had a good time?”

            “I had the
bessst time,” he smiled, “but I missed you. Did you pick us out a fabulous
wedding meal?”

            She led him
over to the couch and helped him down, pulling off his coat and tugging off his
shoes. He swung up his legs and melted into the leather. “I’m thinking we need
to hire Neil to cook for us every day. He’s nothing short of a magician.”

            “We could do
that,” he mumbled, his eyes closing. “Anything for you, love.” He took one big
breath and began snoring softly.

            Tia leaned
over to kiss his cheek and covered him with a blanket from the other couch.
“Sleep well, baby,” she whispered. She put a tall glass of water and a bottle
of aspirin on the side table, and smoothed his hair before slipping into bed
alone.

The
thing about an affair, Ryan quickly learned, is that you have to become at
least three different people who each want to kick the living shit out of both
the others. When he finally summoned the strength to walk out of the bathroom,
Tiffany was striding around the kitchen, presumably making coffee. It was
impossible for Ryan to notice what she was doing, because she hadn’t dressed or
even slipped on a robe—she was completely naked and she looked really damn
good. Every logical neuron firing in his brain was telling him to run—to get
the hell out of there before things got really out of hand…
fuck me once,
shame on me—fuck me twice, shame on you!
Trouble was, there were only a handful
of logical neurons even functioning in his alcohol clouded brain, and they were
all firing in different directions. Before he could even form an excuse that
would get him out of there she gave him a look that got him hard again and
before he fully realized what was happening, he found himself laying on a
weight bench in a spare room with her straddled over him and riding him like a
mechanical bull.
Shame on me
, he thought even as he came with the power
of a pent-up volcano.

His
first instinct when he woke up the morning after the “incident” with his second
hangover in as many weeks on a work day, was to break things off with Tiffany
before he got in too deep. He thought that with time he might be able to
justify making one huge and horrible mistake (technically two, but since they
happened so close together he was counting them as one) while under the
influence of alcohol and a great deal of stress; and Lexi would never have to
know. There were other gyms he could join to keep up the façade of the “big project;”
gyms that didn’t have Tiffany the Temptress playing on his deepest emotions.
Problem was, he really was intrigued by the idea of bringing in a huge contract
to the firm and solidifying his place at the helm, which would also help to
alleviate the guilt he felt for lying to Lexi in the first place. Truitt
Industries was that huge, and Tiffany was the perfect ally.

Fucking
irony
, he thought as he made a strong
pot of coffee and tried to put his thoughts into some sort of order. He’d been
pissed off at Lexi because he thought, for a few brief yet hellish seconds,
that she’d slept with someone else; and now he had blatantly betrayed her trust
by screwing the brains out of a woman he barely knew. He gave Lexi all kinds of
crap for lying and hiding things from him, and now he was making up a huge and
elaborate fabrication that depleted the time he could spend with her, cost him
at least a couple grand in lost deposits, and made her postpone her dream
wedding. What kind of prick would do that?

He
had every intention of calling things off with Tiffany—ending it while he could
still hold onto at least a shred of dignity and build on that until he could
respect himself again. Of course it would mean another lie—it’s not like he
could tell Tiffany the truth—that he was a cheating bastard who just needed to
feel like he was number one for a little while to stroke his own bruised ego.

 When
his phone rang at lunchtime and she invited him to her place for dinner he
accepted, with the sole purpose being to end it. Somehow, however, he ended up
in her bed again, and again the following night.

On
Saturday morning he sat nursing a cup of Irish coffee and wondering how he’d
become the epitome of everything he hated in such a short time. When his phone
rang and Lexi’s face popped up on the screen, he immediately felt nauseous and
the guilt rose up like bile in his throat.

“Hey,”
she said quietly into the phone. “You stopped calling me.”

Hearing
her voice made him realize that he’d really missed her—the last couple months
had pretty much sucked, but they had almost five years of building something
good together before that—something he thought was worth a lifetime. The guilt
slammed down on him like a lightning strike and he realized that he probably
didn’t deserve her. Not anymore. “Well,” he said, “you weren’t calling me
back.”

“I
know,” she said. “I was really mad. But it was your fault, so you should have
kept trying.”

“Probably,”
he replied, sounding genuinely sorry, “but I was really busy at work, too—and
your ignoring me was really throwing off my focus.”

“I’m
sorry, Ryan,” she murmured. “I was really hurt that you wanted to postpone the
wedding, and I took it personally. But I know how important your career is to
you, and I’ve decided that I’m willing to reset the date.”

Ryan
rested his forehead in his hand and tried to think. The last thing in the world
he expected was a complete turn-around by Lexi. She sounded genuinely sorry,
and it wasn’t her usual style to let things go so easily—especially not
something as big as this. 

“I
kind of thought you were wanting to call the whole thing off.”

“I
never said that!” she exclaimed. “Shit Ryan, we’ve been through too much to let
one argument rip us apart. Of course I’m upset—any girl would be. I’ve been
waiting a long time to marry you, and it doesn’t seem fair that I have to wait
another whole year to make it happen.”

“I
didn’t say a year,” he said. “I said a few months.”

“It
might as well be a year,” she answered. “We’ll have to rebook everything, and
the whole theme, not to mention my dress, won’t work except in the summer. I
still want a July wedding. But it’s OK. I’ll wait. I won’t lie and tell you
I’ll be happy about it, but I’ll do it for the sake of your dreams and our
future.”

I
won’t lie.
Her words were like a slap
in his face, and he instantly wished he could go back in time and get excited
about the freaking firework invitations.

Way
too late for that now.

“Really?”

“Really,”
she answered. “I tried to put myself in your place, and even though I don’t like
it, I get it. I know it means a lot to you to make partner, and I also know
it’s been bugging you that Tia’s wedding would be so close to ours and that it
has the potential to take some of the spotlight off of our own celebration. I
guess I just need to suck it up and take one for the team.” 

Take
one for the team?
Ryan thought
sarcastically. He should have felt relief at her words, but instead, for some
inexplicable reason, they pissed him off. If she’d had this epiphany a week
ago, he wouldn’t be in this shitty situation. Somewhere, in the deepest
recesses of his mind, he knew that wasn’t true, but it was a hell of a lot
easier to place the blame on Lexi’s little hissy fit than it was to put it
squarely where it belonged—firmly and heavily on his own shoulders.   Now that
she sounded so sorry, so sincere, he felt even shittier. “I don’t know what to
say, Lex.” At least that was the truth. “I guess I’m kind of surprised.”

“Glad
surprised?”

“Yeah.”
What else could he say?

“Want
to come over tonight? I’ll actually cook,” she offered, a huge thing for her
since she almost never did more than throw something from the freezer into the
oven.

“I’m
so sorry Lex, but I can’t tonight,” he said. “I have something for work…” He
couldn’t possibly go see her without more warning—he needed some time to get
his stories straight in his own head. Lexi knew him better than anyone—she’d
see the lie on his face, he was sure of it.

“During
the week, then,” she said quickly. “How about Monday?”

“Monday’s
good.”

“Come
after work. I’ll put something together for us.”

When
she opened the door, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his
neck. “I really am sorry,” she breathed. “I missed you terribly.”

He
hugged her back and took a deep breath. He could do this. He had a lot of time
to work with now, and would figure out what to do about Tiffany eventually.
Holding Lexi made him realize what an ass he’d been, and what a horrible mess
he’d dived into headfirst. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispered back, meaning
it more than she could ever know. “I never should have done that to you—I never
meant to hurt you.”