The Wedding Trap (Second Service) (9 page)

“Shall we mingle?” Alex asked.

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?”

Beth shrugged her shoulders, trying to look casual. She had the feeling that she looked anything but. Alex discreetly pulled her to empty spot along the wall and leaned in close. More that a few heads turned, and people whispered behind their hands. They must have looked like a couple of besotted lovers sharing a moment.

If only.

"You doing all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're stiff as a board, and you don't want to talk to your friends."

"I'm—I’m fine," she insisted.

"I'm right here, Beth. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. I'll be right behind you. All night."

"It's not me that I'm worried about.”

"I promise you, I can take care of myself."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not you either...well, it's not entirely you. It's them." Beth gestured around the room. "What if someone tries to hurt them to get to me? What if Isobel or my mom or—hell, even Spencer gets caught in the crossfire?"

"There's not going to be any crossfire.”

"How can you be sure?"

"Because they can't make this messy, Beth. The man who wants you dead needs it to look like an accident. He's hoping—no, he's counting on no one looking too deep into what happens to you. Taking out a ballroom full of people isn't in his playbook."

Alex leaned in close and pressed a small kiss against her cheek. It was a sweet gesture, one that did more to calm her nerves than he might ever know. And one that was totally ruined the second that she heard Spencer's voice behind her.

"It looks like you two had a good day,” he said, slurring his words. Beth looked at the drink in his hand. Indistinguishable brown liquid—the favorite drink of assholes everywhere—sloshed over the side of the tumbler. She was guessing it wasn't his first. Not by a long shot.

Alex slowly pulled away and looked Spencer up and down.

"Yeah, we did," he said, wrapping his arm around Beth.

“That’s good,” Spencer said. He leaned in close enough for Beth to catch the wave of alcohol-soaked breath that rolled out of his mouth. “I had a good day, too. I had some time on my hands, so I thought I’d make a phone call over to Bastion Records.”

Oh, no.

“Is that right?” Alex asked, his voice as relaxed as ever.

Beth swallowed past the lump that was rapidly forming in her throat. This wasn’t good.

“Turns out they don’t have a Charlie Parker who works for them,” Spencer said, obviously pleased with himself. He smiled wide enough for Beth to see his back teeth.

“Spencer—“

“Shut up, Beth. I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to
Charlie
,” he said, poking his finger into the center of Alex’s chest. “What do you have to say about that, tough guy?”

Bad move.

Alex pushed off the wall and stepped toe to toe with Spencer. His body was still relaxed, but Beth spied the twitch at his jaw that signaled the anger running through him.

“I think little boys shouldn’t go poking their noses into things they don’t understand,” Alex said, his voice a low warning. “And I think that if you know what’s good for you, you’ll apologize to Beth for talking to her like that.”

“Is that a threat?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m just spelling out your options.”

Spencer took another swig of his drink. And then another. If he was looking for courage, he was going to need a few more glasses.

No matter how satisfying it would be to watch Alex clock Spencer, she probably shouldn't let it happen. There would be a big commotion. Someone would have to clean up the blood. She’d end up having to drive Isobel to the hospital to see her brother-in-law. It just wasn’t worth it.

She grasped Alex’s arm and pulled, but he didn’t budge.

“Gentlemen,” Beth said. “Maybe we should finish this conversation some other time.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Beth?” Spencer said, raising his voice. “Are you scared that everyone will find out the truth about you and your
boyfriend
here?”

Beth froze. There was no way he could know the truth.

Fortunately, only a few people had turned to see what the fuss was about. The music was loud, and in his drunken state, Spencer wasn't as loud as he could be. But Beth had the feeling that he was just getting warmed up. If Spencer had the chance to be center stage, he'd take it, regardless of the humiliation that followed.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Spencer,” she said in a low whisper.

“Me?
I’m
an embarrassment?” he shouted. She should have known better than to appeal to his sense of shame—the little weasel didn’t have any. "That's real funny coming from a woman so hard up she had pay a fucking gigolo to be her date."

More heads turned. Beth put her hands up in front of her.

“Spencer,” she pleaded.

Spencer’s grin only grew at her distress.

“Careful,” Alex warned him.

“Or what?” Spencer said. His voice was less confident now that he’d shifted his eyes back to Alex.

"Do you really want find out the answer to that?" Alex asked. His voice held a sharp and lethal edge.

Spencer’s mouth fell open, and he stood gasping for air like a gutted fish. Alex leaned in so he towered over Spencer.

"Al—Charlie," Beth begged. She pulled on his arm a little harder, but it was futile.

"Because I would love to show you," he said.

There was a world of warning in those words, and, to give him credit, Spencer managed to hear it through the haze of his alcohol-soaked mind. He turned and walked away without another word.

Alex turned back toward Beth, a satisfied smile on his face. "You didn't really think I was going to hit him, did you?"

Beth blinked. "A girl can dream."

"You were right about one thing."

"Yeah?"

"I should have stolen his car when I had the chance."

"Like you'd be seen in that thing," she said.

He shrugged. "I could have crashed it."

Beth’s laughter was cut short when she spied her mother coming towards them, looking annoyed. More than usual.

"Where have you been all day?" her mother demanded.

"Hi, Mom."

"Isobel has been looking for you."

"Has she?" Alex asked with a little too much interest.

"It's nothing. I was just supposed to tell her how things went at the florist's," Beth said. Alex didn't look convinced.

"Your father and I have been looking for you too, but you weren't answering your phone."

Beth suddenly wished that she had accepted the offer of a drink. "I turned it off," she said.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Charlie and I went to lunch. Then we walked around the city. I didn't want to be disturbed."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "The not-wanting-to-be-disturbed part, I believe.”

Great. Everybody thought that she'd spent the whole afternoon jumping pretend Charlie's bones. At least her mother didn't think she had to pay for it. Or did she?

Her mother was giving Alex a long, disapproving stare. Had Spencer gotten to her too?

“What did you do today, Mom?"

"Your father played golf with the Mr. Masterson and Mr. Munoz. And I had a lovely lunch with Spencer."

Bull’s-eye.

"Ah," Beth said slowly. Suddenly, she understood all the strange looks being directed at her. Spencer had done what he always did best—spread bullshit. Everyone in the room thought that she was such a loser that she had paid a man to pose as her imaginary boyfriend and then spent the day screwing his brains out.

"He had some very interesting things to say," her mother said.

"I'm sure he did," Beth said. But she wasn't going to stick around to hear them. She started to walk away, pulling Alex with her. Beth had the distinct impression that he was trying not laugh.

"Where you going?" her mother called after her.

She held up her hands up in surrender as she went. "To the bar, Mom."

Screw keeping control of herself. If she was destined to take two shots to the back of her head at the end of the night, she wasn't going to waste her last moments on earth feeling utterly miserable.

Beth snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and found an empty spot at the far end of the lounge.

"Tell me again why I was worried about saving any of these people?"

Alex grinned. "They all think I'm a prostitute, don't they?"

"Yep," she said. For some reason, Alex finding humor in the situation only darkened her mood further. It wasn't funny—it was disastrous. Spencer had gotten exactly what he wanted: she was a joke.

Given what had happened to her today, it shouldn't have mattered. But for some reason, it cut deep. She imagined what the epitaph on her gravestone would read.

Beth Bradley.

Liar. Sinner. John.

"It's not funny," she said.

His smile widened. His shoulders began to shake. "It's pretty damn funny."

"For you, maybe," she said, taking a sip of champagne. It would have made a bolder statement if she just slammed the thing down, but it tasted too damn expensive to waste on soothing her anger. "I have to stick around after this is over. I'll be the one to clean up this mess."

"Or not," he said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," he said with a shrug.

"Tell me," she said.

"What would happen if for just a minute you stopped caring what all these people thought about you? What if you let them come up with their own misguided opinions, then laughed them off  and let it go? What would happen?"

Beth opened her mouth but nothing came out. For a moment she wasn't sure what she was feeling. Alex was laughing, but he wasn't laughing at her. And maybe it
was
a little bit funny to think of how upset some people were over something that simply wasn't true.

Beth looked at the people watching her from across the room. Some were curious. Some looked upset. Some, amused. And some, a great deal more than she would have imagined, looked like they couldn't care less.

"Maybe you're right," she said with a grin. "Maybe I'll leave this world behind and move out to DC with you. I could become your pimp."

"I believe they're called madams," he said.

"We’ll have to look it up."

She’d always cared so much about what people thought of her. She spent so much time trying to please everyone that she ended up pleasing no one, herself included.

But not every one disliked her. Alex seemed to genuinely appreciate her. And there was Isobel, of course.

Isobel. The first person to assume Alex was a man whore.

But her best friend would never…

"There you are.” Beth turned around at the sound of Isobel’s voice. "I've been looking all over for you two."

Isobel had a drink in her hand and a smile on her face. It was obvious that she wasn’t feeling much pain.

“We’ve been over here. Hanging out against the wall. Enduring the stares of strangers,” Beth said.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“You didn’t happen to tell Spencer your little theory about Charlie’s real occupation, did you?”

Isobel’s hand flew to her mouth. She shook her head. “No,” she said.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Isobel flashed her a guilty smile. “I may have let it slip to Jordan, who may have mentioned it as a joke to his brother.”

“Isobel!”

Isobel waved her hand. "Nobody listens to Spencer.”

Beth arched her eyebrows.

"Okay, everybody listened to him," she amended. "But if it makes you feel any better only about half of them believe it."

"Yeah, that makes it all better," Beth said.

Isobel turned to Alex. "So is it true?"

Alex only shrugged.

"Oh my God, I knew it," Isobel said.

"No," Beth said. "Seriously, Isobel. He's not a gigolo."

"Really? That's disappointing," Isobel turned her attention back to Alex. "So who are you, then? I'm the only other person who knows for certain that you aren't Charlie Parker."

That muscle on the side of Alex's jaw twitched again, and Beth groaned inwardly.

"Isobel," she said in warning. Her friend didn't know that she was doing far more harm than she realized. "He's just a friend."

"No, he's not," she said. "There is no way that you have a guy as gorgeous as this hanging around you, and I don't know about it."

"You're not helping," Beth said. If she had to guess, she'd say that Isobel was about three glasses of champagne into the evening. Nothing short of being blunt was going to get through.