Authors: Julie Lessman
With a look of longing at the Mercedes, Lexus, and BMW lined up for valet parking, Lacey nosed her Honda past the posh Bohemian Hotel, opting to park a block away at the underground garage instead. Eyelids pencil thin, she cast an evil eye at the four-inch gold glitter stiletto sandals on the passenger seat—the ones Nicki had talked her into buying along with a way-too-short gold silk skater dress. Her feet would be hamburger by the time she walked back to the hotel, making her wish she’d come with Nicki and Matt to this “wedding party dinner” rather than driving herself. But she’d been so freaked out after running into her dad at the hospital last night that she’d barely slept a wink, at least not well. And the forty miles she’d biked this afternoon hadn’t helped either, diffusing some of her tension, certainly, but leaving her zapped in the process. A sigh drifted out as she turned into the garage and yanked a ticket from the turn-style. So what could she do?
She crashed and overslept.
“Uh-oh, busy night,” she muttered, circling her car four times to the top level where a scant few spots still remained, wondering what the odds were that she’d run into her dad again tonight. Probably pretty good, given her rotten luck lately and the fact that Rocks on the Roof—one of Savannah’s newest hotspots—was a haunt of the higher-ups at Memorial, at least according to Nicki.
Heaven knows other than her faith, everything else in Lacey’s life had gone south—her new car totaled, necessitating a clunker and then loss of most of her savings to wedding deposits and pricey rent after Tim left. Not to mention that the only teaching position she’d been able to get in Savannah was subbing until a waitlist cleared for the next fulltime slot. With a calculating grate of her lip, she carefully shoehorned the Honda into a spot the size of a postage stamp and shifted into “Park.” Ah … clearly one of the perks of owning a junker. She killed the ignition with a wry smile. Yep, things were definitely looking up.
Oh sure, she still had to work up the nerve to confront her father, but at least her relationship—correction,
friendship
—with Jack was on solid ground once again, and that alone brought Lacey a great measure of peace. They were well on their way to “comfortably casual and remote” as she’d mentioned to Nicki, and Lacey had every intention of keeping it that way. She eyed the stilettos in the next seat with trepidation, no earthly intention of putting them on until she absolutely had to. With a tight grimace, she snatched those suckers up and opened the door, thinking how much easier it would have been if Chase had picked her up—and dropped her off at the entrance—like Nicki suggested. But Lacey had put the kibosh on that before Nicki had even finished her sentence, begging her not to invite Chase tonight. No way would she risk upsetting the tenuous balance between Jack and her.
“Take your wedding party to that snazzy new hotspot on me,” Uncle Cam had written in his latest letter to Nicki, and Nicki had been more than eager to oblige, promptly booking a reservation for dinner and dancing at Rocks on the Roof.
Lacey slipped out of the car in her trusty flats and humidity slammed, as thick and cloying as the guilt she felt over excluding Chase in a dinner he had every right to attend. She almost wished Jack could have brought a date so Lacey could do the same, but a wedding party evenly matched in couples made it rather awkward to do.
Marching toward the elevator, Lacey slowed as she spied a cherry red BMW up ahead, the “KIDS ROCK” personalized plates giving it dead away. Her mouth quirked into a smile. “What’s this, Dr. O’Bryen?” she said under her breath, “car payments too steep to pop for valet pa—” The jest caught in her throat as she squinted through the convertible’s back window, which apparently was up tonight, and it was a good thing. She stared hard at a movement that caught her eye before she realized there was a blonde all over Jack, glomming onto him like warm honey, gooey sweet and molded curve for curve.
She blinked, heat rising into her cheeks that had absolutely nothing to do with the humidity. So much for “comfortably casual and remote,” she fumed, noting there was nothing “comfortable, casual
or
remote” about the blonde bimbo kissing Jack in the front seat of his car. “Sit on his freakin’ lap, why don’t ya?” she hissed under her breath, shocked at the vehemence within. Her fingers suddenly itched for a hank full of bleached blonde hair. A flippin’ dental hygienist, no doubt, paying a house call on Jack’s molars.
“Get a room,” she shouted as she passed, royally ticked off as she bolted for the safety of the stairwell before either of them could untangle their limbs in a timely manner, if they even could. With a grinding grit of her teeth, she flew down four flights of stairs and flung the exit door open, the merciless bang of the door to the wall matching her mood perfectly.
“And to think I was worried about flaunting a guy in front of
him
,” she said, thumping the stilettos against her chest, quite sure those four-inch heels would come in handy if Dr. Love asked her to dance. “Ha! So much for shying away from flaunting, Jack Carmichael, not when you and Miss Blonde Bombshell have already perfected it to an art form.”
By the time Lacey entered the lobby of the Bohemian Hotel, her composure was as frazzled as her hair. Shoving the door of the ladies’ room open, she strode in and hurled both her purse and her heels onto the marble counter, grateful the restroom was empty. “What exactly is your problem?” she hissed in the mirror. “You are acting like a jealous shrew, and you have absolutely no right to do so. Jack is a single man who can date any floozy he wants, just like I can date any man I want. Chest pumping she glared in the mirror, knuckles clenched whiter than the marble beneath her grip. “Although I sure in the heck wouldn’t crawl all over him.”
You did once.
Lacey blinked, the truth of that quiet reminder pooling moisture in her eyes. Palms to the counter, she slumped forward, unable to face herself as she hung her head over the sink, her reedy expulsion of air tainted with more than a little shame. “God, forgive me. I have no room to talk, not with the way I’ve acted all these years before You opened my eyes.” Sucking in a deep breath, she slowly looked up and exhaled her anger. “I can do this,” she said to herself, “I can be the friend Jack needs me to be.
And
the example of God’s love that he and that bim—” Her lips tightened to choke back the word before she expelled a loud bluster of air. “He and that
blonde
need me to be.”
Closing her eyes, she shored her confidence up with a much-needed prayer, then proceeded to touch up her lips with her tube of Pink Envy lipstick—the irony of the name not lost on her at all. With a quick comb through her hair, she assessed the loose curls as they spilled over her bare shoulders onto her halter-top dress, satisfied with the way Nicki’s oversized gold hoops shimmered in her ears. Her gaze dropped to the stiletto sandals Nicki had badgered her to buy, and venting with a reluctant sigh, she tucked her flats into her gold lame sack purse and slipped on the stilts. Shoulders back, she was surprised at how confident those four extra inches made her feel, and with a shake of her head, she silently thanked her cousin. Because heaven knows if ever there were a night she needed an extra lift, it was tonight when she was stag while her ex was playing kissy-face with a blonde goddess.
“Okay, Carmichael, buck up and get through this evening,” she muttered, heading back to the lobby to take the elevator to Rocks on the Roof. The doors opened and Lacey slipped in and pressed the Rocks on the Roof button, sagging against the wall with eyes closed to muster her strength.
“Hold the elevator, please …”
“Uh-oh …” Eyelids popping open, she tried to slam a finger to the “open door” button, but pressed the “close door” one by mistake, just as a muscular arm thrust into the crack, parting them once again. “I am so sor—” Lacey halted when she met Jack’s humorous gaze, which promptly heated her cheeks.
And then again, maybe not …
He grinned, his lips sporting a shimmery gloss that did nothing for Lacey’s resolve to be nice. “Close call.” He pushed the button for the roof.
“I’ll say,” she said with an awkward smile.
Too close.
The heat in her face bumped up to a small brushfire when his gaze traveled the length of her in frank perusal, a low whistle parting from his lips. “Wow, Lace, you look great.” He slid an easy arm to the blonde’s waist, taking the concept of “looking great” to a whole new level with a stylish single-breasted blazer over a pale-blue T-shirt the exact color of his eyes. “Lucky Chase.” The bridge of his nose crimped in an inverted V. “Where is Preacher Boy anyway? Did he drop you off at the door?”
“Oh, I wish.” She lifted one of the stilettos to divert his attention from her face, her tone a lot dryer than her sweaty hands. “These things turn a city block into a mile, trust me.” Forcing a bright smile, she turned her attention to the blonde who was nothing short of stunning, even with Jack’s whisker burn pinking her chin. She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lacey Carmichael, Jack’s partner in the wedding,” she said, suddenly aware that Jack’s compliment of “looking great” was no competition for a goddess with pale-gold hair and almond-shaped eyes.
“Jasmine Augustine,” the goddess said with a stiff smile, shaking Lacey’s hand before she casually fondled Jack’s arm in an apparent show of possession. “It’s good to finally meet. Jack’s told me so much about you.”
“Uh-oh, badmouthing the ex, eh?” Lacey offered Jack a teasing smile as the doors opened onto Rocks on the Roof. The mouthwatering smell of roasted chicken and beef sliders lured them in while live music beckoned couples onto an open-air dance floor. Lacey immediately relaxed, soaking in the urban-chic setting that boasted a warm array of wood, granite, and river rock.
“You’re late!” Nicki appeared out of nowhere, snagging Lacey’s arm after greeting Jack and his date. She ushered them toward a cozy table at the back of the restaurant, allowing Jack to go on ahead while he led Jasmine to where Matt was waving them down. “You look fabulous, by the way,” she whispered in Lacey’s ear, screeching to a halt by the bar when Lacey’s fingernails pinched into her skin. “Hey—that hurts.”
“It’s nothing compared to my feet, Nicolette Phillips,” Lacey hissed, “and for mercy’s sake,
why
didn’t you tell me Jack was bringing a date?”
Eyebrows peaking high, Nicki offered a repentant grate of her lip. “I’m sorry, Lace, but I just found out myself when Matt asked the waitress for two extra chairs. Apparently there was a breakdown in communication between my fiancé and me because
he
thought Chase was invited, even though I could have sworn I mentioned he wasn’t.” She snuck a peek in the direction of their table, a definite apology in her tone. “So when Jack asked if he could bring a friend, Matt said yes.”
“Friend? Ha!” Lacey’s tone climbed several octaves. “With benefits and then some, I’d say, judging from the way they were making out in the parking lot.”
“Oh, Lace.” Nicki turned to brace her hands on Lacey’s arms, her eyes soft with sympathy. “I told you Jack’s moved on, so you need to do the same, which is why I’ve been begging you to say yes to Chase, and not in secret either.”
Lacey’s chest rose and fell with a weighty sigh. “Yeah, well, it’s too late to do that tonight.”
Nicki cocked her head, hazel eyes narrowing in thought. “Maybe not …”
“Oh, no you don’t! I do not want you calling Chase this late, Nick, as if he’s some … some afterthought.” Lacey squared her shoulders and stood tall—considerably easier with the stupid stilettos—and decided to make the best of what promised to be a very long evening.
“You sure? I don’t want you feeling like odd man out.” Nicki’s look was timid beneath sooty lashes, the tender affection in her cousin’s eyes shifting Lacey’s attention to where it belonged—on Nicki and Matt.
Lacey swallowed her up in a hug. “Absolutely! And it’s odd woman out, Cuz, but that’s okay because you’re the only reason I’m here in the first place, right?” She pulled away to hook her arm through Nicki’s, steering her toward the table with a bright smile. “That and a juicy medium-rare steak.”
At the table, Lacey could have kissed Nicki for bumping Nate to the other end so Lacey could sit next to her, as far away from Jack and his date as possible. It wasn’t hard to see why Rocks on the Roof was considered Savannah’s new “it club,” and Lacey actually found herself easing into its relaxing atmosphere with little to no trouble. Laughing and chatting with Nicki, Matt, and Sarah throughout dinner allowed her to unwind and enjoy all the action and ambiance of a rooftop lounge overlooking Savannah’s historic riverfront.
“So, Jasmine, how’d you meet Jack anyway?” Kelly twirled her swizzle stick in her drink before taking a sip, her voice cool.
All chatter ceased while everyone stilled to hear Jasmine’s answer.
“In the storeroom at Memorial,” she said shyly, giving Jack an adoring look beneath heavy lashes. “He was looking for something, so I helped him find it.”
“I’ll just bet you did,” Nicki muttered under her breath, and Lacey kicked her under the table.
“You see I’m a nurse on Pedes,” she continued, “and all the nurses voted Jack the resident they most wanted to be stuck in a storeroom with, Dr. McDreamy, so to speak.” She gave a shrug of tan shoulders before she stroked Jack’s cheek, his face shadowed with beard and sporting a sheepish grin. “So I guess you could say I won.”