The Wedding Guest (Colorado Billionaires Book 5) (4 page)

“Yep, I was right. Sunny and seventy-two degrees. John the Cad is tooling around in a fully loaded police car on the bright, sunny streets of L.A., and I'm in Pawling with dead leaves and morning fog and no cell phone towers. What does it all mean, Madz?”

She felt doubt crowding out her firm decision to let John go without her. But no. She’d done the right thing. She knew in her heart that if she'd gone to L.A., there would be no marriage in her future. Why should John marry her if he could have her playing the part of his wife with no strings attached? And the question that really hurt was why would he disrespect her by asking her to do such a thing? She was better off without him.

But there was still a huge hole in her life where John used to be, and no amount of overtime at the boutique had been able to fill it. She turned off the TV and tossed the remote on her bed, wishing she had a car and a map. She felt trapped with no wheels. Maybe she should go with Vicky after all. Maybe there was still time. It would be better than moping around in their room and second guessing her decision about John. She'd left her jacket in the dining room anyway. She stuffed her phone in her purse and headed out the door.

Kirby was pacing slowly on the stone patio between her room and the dining room porch. He stopped when he saw her, and his expression turned hopeful. “Hello again,” he said. “I feel so awful about your blouse. It was very attractive. Before Pearl dive-bombed you.”

Madlyn pulled her purse into her arms. He was so good-looking, she couldn't stop staring. She could picture that hair, that chin, that cleft, on a Colorado ski slope, or maybe on one of the magnificent horses at the Rocking Eagle Ranch. With those shoulders, he might be a professional athlete. After several seconds, she realized she hadn't returned his greeting.

“Birds aren't my favorite,” she blurted, and immediately regretted it. “Sorry. I'm a little flustered. I always get this way after cleaning guano off my clothes.” She pressed her lips together in a thin line to keep from saying anything else negative about birds.

“I do apologize. If it helps at all, I can tell you she’s ruined three of my shirts and sent two jackets to the dry cleaners.” He raised his brows. “I'd be happy to pay for a new blouse.”

Madlyn was impressed, then appalled. “Are you telling me the blouse is ruined?”

Kirby nodded reluctantly. “Very possibly. Jeez, I'm standing here talking, and you must be freezing.”

“I left my jacket in the dining room.”

“I know. I put it in my car.” He strode over to a dark gray BMW sedan, opened the driver's door, and retrieved her jacket. “Brewster and Vicky took a shuttle up to the Manse. Evidently, the girls in the wedding party are having some kind of meet-and-greet before their luncheon.”

Madlyn let him help her into her jacket. She zipped the front, then renewed her embrace on her purse. She flailed mentally to find a question that did not revolve around that stinking little bird. “Do you work for him? For Brewster?”

Kirby blinked at her. His mouth opened, then closed.

Madlyn filled in the silence. “I know a lot of rich people back in Colorado. There's sort of a billionaire invasion going on in Eagle's Toe. Some of them are swell, but some are a pain, and I can't imagine working for one of those.”

“Oh,” said Kirby, noncommittally. “Actually, Brewster is not a pain at all.” He smiled tentatively.

“Good. Are you his driver? His valet? Vicky's husband has a valet who doubles as a butler.” She put on her best Downton Abbey voice. “Alistair.”

“Really? How nice.” Kirby rubbed the back of his neck.

Madlyn was filled with a sudden horrible thought. “Oh, gosh, you're rich, aren't you? I didn't mean to offend.”

“No, no, no,” Kirby hastened to reassure her. “I'm not rich.”
Yet,
he added silently.
And maybe never.
“I take it you've had some unpleasant run-ins with the wealthy crowd back home?”

Madlyn shrugged. “Things are changing because of them. It's my hometown, and all that money moving in, it's having an effect. Not always a good one.”

Kirby looked relieved. “No problem here.” He spread his hands. “I am definitely not rich. I do get to drive this lovely BMW, though. I was hoping you'd let me drive you around a bit. Show you the sights?”

The idea of spending time with such a magnificent male specimen lifted the gloom from Madlyn's heart. “That would be lovely.”

A moment later, they were in the BMW. Madlyn was grateful for her occasional rides in Vicky and Jason's Rolls. She was able to take in the luxurious interior without any overt expressions of envy or amazement. She buckled her seat belt, nodded simply, and said, “Nice.”

Kirby pressed a finger on the start button. “Thanks.” A second later, he added, “I'll tell Brewster you liked it. Now where to? Straight up to the Manse?”

Madlyn made a face. “Is that the name of the place?”

Kirby suppressed a smile. “The family that owns the house has always called it that. It's really big and sprawling.”

“Oh, it's short for Mansion? I get it.” She held up a pinky finger. “La-de-da.”

Kirby laughed. “Exactly.” He pulled onto the narrow road that ran in front of the bed and breakfast. “Is this your first trip to Pawling?”

“First trip out of Colorado, actually.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope. And so far, I'm not impressed.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I'm used to wide open spaces and lots of sunshine.”

“Don't worry, the sun does shine here. Especially up on Quaker Hill. That's where the Manse is. We just happen to be in a little backwoods part of the area here. Charming, though, don't you think?”

Now that Madlyn could actually see something of her surroundings, she had to admit that Kirby was right. The place did have a lot of charm. “Some of these houses look really old. I mean, they're pretty and all, but they feel old.”

“Some of them are. People have been living here since before the Revolution, and George Washington and his troops fought battles near here.”

Madlyn's eyes grew big. “I didn't realize that. What's that huge brick complex up there? Is that a playing field?”

“Very posh private school,” said Kirby. “The wealthiest families in the world send their boys here to study.”

Madlyn fought a wave of dizziness. “Gosh, these roads are so narrow and curvy. I'd better look straight ahead while we're driving.”

“What do you do, Madlyn?”

“I manage Mina's Boutique in Eagle's Toe. I love working retail. Mina's trying to expand, but she needs funding to purchase her building. She's a nervous wreck about it. I never would have left her but Vicky needed me. Oh, can we stop at Dunkin' Donuts? I love their coffee.”

“Glad to oblige.” Kirby pulled into the small parking lot. “Let's go in. The drive-through is six cars long.”

Inside, Madlyn inhaled deeply. “It smells heavenly! Look at those crullers. Vicky says calories don't count on vacation.”

Kirby laughed. “I agree. Vicky seems like a very nice person.”

“She's awesome. We've been BFFs for years. At least we were. Then she married money, and now I hardly ever get to spend time with her. That's why I hate rich people.”

CHAPTER SIX

K
irby held his breath and counted to ten. Alarm bells were going off in his mind, but he simply could not tell this lovely creature with the reddest hair he’d ever seen that he was one of the hated class.

Although, technically, he wasn’t. He was the stepson. Ray would inherit the Forbes wealth. Ray had always been the “good” son. He’d stayed close to home, taken exactly the courses in college his father had directed him to take, and worked himself into a premature paunch and some early gray hair.

Not that he was bad looking. Ray was blessed with good genetic material. He just didn’t quite know what to do with it. And he was shorter.

But in Spain, where Ray had met Maria, shorter men were the norm. Maria had obviously spotted him as a diamond in the rough, so to speak. She’d probably sized him up and imagined what he’d look like with ten pounds whittled off his middle, then checked his bona fides and figured out he would make a good financial match for her own family fortune.

Kirby certainly had no beef with Maria for being practical. After all, she had to keep both the European and the American branches of the family happy. And she was stunningly beautiful. In any other situation, Kirby would have envied his brother.

In fact, as the younger stepbrother, Kirby had spent many years watching Ray receive all the attention. That was enough to generate envy in a saint. But thanks to his mother’s uncle, Kirby didn’t really care that Ray would inherit his father’s fortune. Even less so now that he knew that Madlyn was not fond of the wealthy class.

Still, he knew he should be honest with her. After all, he was technically a heartbeat away from big money. But with any luck, he’d be the poorest in the family for quite some time. Surely Madlyn wouldn’t hold that against him. Would she?

Madlyn was looking at him like he’d sprouted horns. The clerk was staring at him, too.

“Did I miss something?” he asked.

“I thought maybe you suddenly went deaf. Would you like a cruller?”

“Most definitely. And could you put it in a cup, please? I want to top it off with soft ice cream.”

Madlyn said, “Make that two. Let’s pretend it’s lunchtime. And let’s pretend we didn’t eat breakfast. But promise you won't tell anyone I’m pigging out.”

Kirby nodded eagerly. “Pinky swear.” He held up a crooked pinky.

Madlyn laughed and hooked it with her own. “Our secret.”

They took their coffees and their crullers and soft serve to a table in the corner. Most of the customers were at the drive-through, so it was fairly quiet at their little table.

“This is so decadent,” said Madlyn. She made sensual noises over her ice cream.

Kirby’s cell phone played “Bat Out of Hell.” He clenched his jaw and refused the call.

“You get service here? I don’t get anything.”

“Not in Pawling, you don’t. They don’t want cell towers. You might get reception here, though.”

Madlyn shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. No reason to check.” She plunged her plastic spoon savagely into her ice cream.

“I hope you’re not fighting with a boyfriend,” said Kirby, dreading the answer.

Madlyn sighed heavily. “No. Not anymore. He left three months ago.”

“What an idiot.” It just slipped out, he was so relieved.

Madlyn looked up, delight in her eyes. “Thank you.”

Kirby smiled.

They stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds. At last, Madlyn looked away and said softly, “You probably have lots to do if you and Brewster have to attend this wedding.”

“Today is all about the ladies. Don’t worry. I’d rather be here with you. Say, you work in retail. Would you like to see the Danbury Fair Mall? It’s rather well known.”

Madlyn nodded eagerly. “That would be great. You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Brewster won’t get mad?”

Kirby shook his head. “He’s busy visiting his friends at the Manse.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Kirby’s phone rang again. He refused the call again.

Madlyn tilted her head to one side. “Why not just turn it off?”

“Brewster may need to reach me.”

“Oh. So ‘Bat Out of Hell’ isn’t Brewster.”

Kirby laughed and held the car door open for Madlyn. “Hardly. No. There’s a woman who thinks she owns me.” He closed the door gently, then went around and got in.

Madlyn cleared her throat. “Forgive me for asking, but I need to know before we go any further. Are you married?”

Kirby shook his head. “Not at all. I’m not even engaged. I’m footloose and fancy free, as they say. Although,” he said softly, “I must confess to a weakness for red hair.”

Madlyn blushed. “Just as long as your persistent caller doesn’t actually have legal ties to you.”

Kirby backed carefully out of the parking space. “None. Her brother was my roommate in college. That’s how I met her. You could practically see her agenda printing out on her face as she looked at me. Single. Check. Passable looks. Check. Financially secure—” He bit it off and finished, “Well, a girl can’t have everything.”

Madlyn laughed.

Kirby wagged his brows at her. “Connecticut here we come.”

“Is it far?”

“Nothing is far on the east coast. Maybe thirty minutes, if I don’t get too lost. I haven’t driven this route for a while.”

Madlyn chatted amiably, comparing Route 22 to the wide-open two-lane roads of her Colorado home. “Pawling seems claustrophobic to me. Stuck in between the hills, with all those trees standing like a gray army at attention.”

Kirby said, “You have a poetic soul.”

“My ex called it silly.”

Kirby made a disgruntled noise. “What did he do for a living? Government worker?”

Madlyn laughed. “He’s a cop in L.A. He used to be a cop in Eagle’s Toe, but he wanted to get more experience with real crime. Last I heard, he wanted to go on to the FBI someday.” She stopped, surprised. “And that would make him a government worker, wouldn’t it?”

Kirby grinned.

“What do you do, Kirby?”

His grin froze in place. He pretended to be focused on maneuvering the spaghetti-noodle entrance to Danbury Fair Mall. Once in the parking lot, he asked innocently, “I’m sorry. What were you asking?”

“What do you do? I mean, besides driving Brewster around.”

Kirby did a quick mental inventory of his latest hobbies. Skiing, snowboarding, mountain biking, writing, all at the amateur level. At last he picked one that felt safe. “I’m a writer. Or at least I hope to be.”

“That’s wonderful! Are you selling on Amazon?” She pulled out her phone.

Seized by a moment of panic, Kirby covered her hand with his. “Not yet! I mean, I’m still learning my craft.”

“Oh. That’s why you work for Brewster. Of course. I understand.” Madlyn tucked her phone away. “I’ll be sure to buy your first book. Fiction or non-fiction?”

“Fiction,” said Kirby. “But it’s pretty dark. You probably wouldn’t like it.” He sifted through his current works in progress and shuddered.

“I like thrillers,” said Madlyn. “And romance,” she confessed. “I love romance novels. Do you think that’s shallow?”