Can't Let You Go (17 page)

O
n Sunday morning,
I decided to go to church. My hope was that while I sat there in a stiff-backed pew, and Maxine belted her off-key renditions of praise songs, God would beam down some wisdom and show me what to do like Moses and the Ten Commandments.

If nothing else, I would sneak downstairs to the children’s area and get myself a handful of cookies.

The In Between Community Church was where my father preached the gospel every Sunday except the few he took off for family vacations, and as in today, mission trips. The church was where I had met some of the best friends of my life, like Frances. Charlie’s family attended there as well, so it should’ve been no surprise when I saw him walk into the lobby.

And yet it was. I guess I thought when you robbed and cheated innocent people out of their property for a living, you probably weren’t keeping up with your church membership.

Charlie joined his mother, his little sister holding his hand. Their father was noticeably absent, but he’d always been on the Easter-Christmas visitation plan. The youth pastor’s wife chatted with Charlie’s mother while he scanned the room. Before I could look away, our eyes met, and he inclined his head in greeting.

I turned and gave him my back, tuning into the conversation between Frances, Maxine, and a quieter-than-usual Joey.

“No, I truly had no idea.” Frances sent her fiancé a sour look. “
Someone
didn’t tell me.”

Joey shrugged. “It just never came up.”

“I knew Charlie worked for his uncle’s company,” Frances said, “but I didn’t know what that was. Joey and I had more than a few cross words about this.”

“One or two.” He kissed Frances’s cheek.

I imagined most of the words had come from Frances.

“Well, my dear Katie was absolutely bamboozled,” Maxine said. “And she’s been a complete mess every since.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said.

Maxine inspected my hair and makeup. “You keep telling yourself that. But somebody needs a little hair trim and waxy-poo.”

“Katie, truly, I didn’t know,” Frances said. “And I know you’re angry at Charlie right now, but he is Joey’s best man. You’ll be together quite a bit during the wedding and—” Frances’s words died as she caught sight of something behind me. “Don’t turn around, but Ian’s here.”

“My Ian?”

“Your
ex
-Ian,” Maxine corrected.

What kind of loose government was I living in, that some foreigner could just come and go without any thought to the lives of American ex-girlfriends? Ian was
everywhere
. How could I text immigration? Why were we letting cheaters within our borders? “What in the world could he be doing here?”

“To hear the word of the Lord and get spiritual nourishment as a child of Jesus?” Maxine proposed.

Frances and I answered in duplicate. “Nah.”

“Ladies, hello.”

I turned at that perfectly enunciated accent, dread filling my every cell. “What do you think you’re doing, Ian?”

He stood there looking GQ in a dark suit, without Felicity the simmering twit on his arm. “I came to hear your father preach.”

“He’s in Haiti,” I said. “Why don’t you go find him?”

Ian ignored that. “Hello, Mrs. Dayberry, Frances.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Ian.”

“I’m here because it makes me look good.” He straightened his tie and smiled. “Do me a favor and take some photos of me later, okay? I’m going to send those to the paper. And back to some strategic folks in London.”

“Oh, Katie, dear!” Mrs. Livvy Hightower waddled her way to us, her flower-covered hat bobbing precariously on her white head.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hightower.” I tried not to stare at the frayed silk rose that dangled near her ear, as if contemplating jumping off.

“I’ve been working on the music for your wedding?”

“The music?” I widened my eyes in a silent plea for her to stop.

“Yes. I do a mean Adele.” The octogenarian then proceeded to sing a song I had previously liked somewhere between the key of G and awful.

“Thank you,” I said when she finally finished.

Maxine removed her fingers from her ears. “Lovely.”

“I’ll keep working on it.” Mrs. Hightower winked with her good eye. “For your wedding. The one that’s coming up. Because Charlie really asked you to marry him. Because you’re truly engaged and—”

“
Thank you
, Mrs. Hightower.” This town was going to do me in. Instead of helping me, it was like they were conspiring to see who could make this engagement the biggest farce.

With an assurance that the well-meaning woman could have the wedding solo, Mrs. Hightower happily walked away, and I returned my attention to Ian. “So you’re using my dad’s church for PR?”

“Using is a very harsh verb.” Laughter lurked in Ian’s eyes, and I knew he wasn’t buying the engagement story. “I prefer mutually helping us both. By the by, you have a phone interview with the Dallas Gazette, and the NBC affiliate in Houston is wanting us to do an interview for their morning show.”

“There’s no
us
here. And where is Felicity?”

“Since my stay here is going to go longer than I’d anticipated, I sent her back to Manhattan.” There was nothing sweet about that smile he still wore. “We do work really well together. Maybe when you get your head straightened out, you can come out to New York, and I’ll see if I can get you a part.”

Maxine shoved herself in front of me like a human shield. “My Katie can get herself a part all on her own.”

“Sure she can,” Ian said. “Maybe with some acting lessons, she’ll be ready in a few years.”

“A big time director’s been calling her nonstop, and Katie happens to have an audition.”

Frances gasped. “You do?”

“She does!” Maxine clapped her hands.

“Is that so?” Ian chuckled. “Do you really think you’re ready?”

I wanted to shove this Bible right down his throat then pull it back out his nose. “I don’t need you to—”

“There you are, Katie”

I startled as Charlie suddenly joined us. As I stood there swallowing my zinger for Ian, Charlie wrapped his arm around me, tucked me in close, and planted a careful kiss on my bandage. “Had to take Sadie to children’s church.” He pulled a napkin-covered package from the pocket of his pin-striped shirt. “They’re serving the good kind today. Oreos. For my girl.”

Cookies. For me.

I would not be charmed by this. Faking it or not, Charlie was not going to lure me in with crunchy, cookie goodness.

Oh. They were double stuffed.

Get thee behind me, Nabisco.

“We were just talking about Katie’s audition in New York,” Maxine said. “The one that director has been begging her to go on.”

“The audition. Right.” Charlie’s fingers massaged my shoulder. “She’s been fielding lots of calls. We can’t even make it through ten minutes of dinner without her cell ringing.”

Ian cocked his head and smiled indulgently. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, it is. We’re into facts around here,” Maxine said. “And that’s. . .definitely one of them.”

Holy offering plates, she was a terrible liar. How could someone so devious be that awful at lies? “We were just going into the sanctuary,” I said. “We’ll see you later.”

“Is this the church where you’ll be getting married?” Ian asked.

My pause was as obvious as the orange spray tan on the worship pastor’s wife. “Yes. My dad will marry us here.” I looked up at Charlie with an expression I hoped was full of love.

“And when did you say that was?” Ian asked.

“We haven’t set a date,” Charlie said. “It all depends on Katie’s busy schedule.”

“At the diner?”

Charlie smiled. “On Broadway.”

I wanted to disappear into the laminate flooring that was trying so hard to be a nice bamboo. But it wasn’t. And I wasn’t a Broadway caliber actress. I was community theater, and Ian and I both knew it.

“And your honeymoon plans?” Ian asked.

“Probably not London.” Charlie’s hand made a lazy S down my back.

Ian looked like he was actually enjoying this. “I couldn’t help notice you’re not wearing an engagement ring.”

“I only want a simple band.”

“It’s being sized.”

Charlie laughed amiably as he lifted my left hand and gave my fingers a sweet kiss. “Katie has a ring, but so far I can’t talk her into wearing it.”

“It’s a doozie.” Maxine made a giant circle with her arms. “Gigantically, epically, monstrously mega big.”

“Well, we should get going.” I took a step toward the sanctuary. “Maxine gets twitchy if she doesn’t get her pew.”

Frances gave my grandma the side-eye. “I know that’s right.”

“I’ll see you at the committee meeting after church,” Ian said. “At the diner, right?”

How had he known about that? I had specifically left him out of the communication loop.

“I’m sure you forgot to let me know,” Ian said. “Being busy with all your phone calls and impromptu wedding plans. But Loretta gave me a ring on my mobile.”

“Don’t feel like you have to go,” I said. “We’ve got it under control.”

Ian held up his phone, showing a text. “Actually your lawyer just quit ten minutes ago. But I’m sure you knew that.”

I made a move to step out of Charlie’s embrace, but the man tightened his grip and just smiled. “Katie and I don’t discuss the Thrifty Co. buyout together,” Charlie said. “You and Katie can talk business later. When we’re not at church.”

“A sound idea,” Ian said. “She can ride with me.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” I felt the muscles beneath Charlie’s shirt flex. “I’ll take her.”

“What is this,
Downton Abbey
?” Maxine snapped. “This little filly is fully capable of driving herself.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Ian, if you insist on going, I will see you there. And now, I’d like to go sit down before we miss the entire sermon.”

Charlie reached for my hand then led me inside.

“I’m ready to tell Ian we’re not engaged,” I mumbled as we walked down the aisle and slipped into a row.

“Wait ’til he’s gone.” Charlie sat down and rested his arm on the pew behind my back.

I scooted over an inch, but Charlie merely followed. “I’m still very angry at you.” I tried to turn off my girlie-senses that were attuned to his every move—his heavenly scent and those heart-stopping good looks.

“Duly noted.”

“I would prefer it if you didn’t touch me.”

“Too bad.”

I snapped open the church bulletin and read over the prayer requests. “I’d also rather you keep some distance.”

“That would look real authentic.”

“All couples go through rough patches.”

“Not us,” he ground out. “We’re
blissfully
happy.”

“You must have me confused with Thrifty Co.”

Frances and Joey soon joined us, and I turned down some of my rancor. Ian sat somewhere behind us, and this was not lost on my fake fiancé. Throughout the service, Charlie leisurely played with my hair, clasped my hand in his, or ran the tips of his fingers along my back.

All the while the assistant pastor spoke heartily from the podium.

On the challenges of marriage.

“A
nd that’s why
we want Thrifty Co. to build somewhere else. To save our heritage and to save the livelihoods of many families.”

I sat in a cushy, blue chair across from Kiley LeBeaux, the co-anchor of the Channel 5 morning show. The perky bobbed-blonde nodded at my response and directed her final question to Ian.

“And you came all the way from London just to help out this town?”

“I care about theaters, and the Valiant is too much of a historical gem to let it be bulldozed just to provide a parking lot for the new store. Directing is my career, but I have a passion for theater preservation.”

“And you came all the way from London?”

The poor woman couldn’t let that one go. I had to admit, nobody really understood it.

“I’ve traveled further for the cause, believe it or not.”

I was going with not.

“The theater community takes care of our own, Ms. LeBeaux,” Ian said. “Katie and I worked together on a large production on the West End, and when she told me what was going on, I knew I couldn’t stand idly by. I was en route to New York to begin a new show, and it was the perfect time to offer my assistance.”

Kiley consulted the notes in her lap. “And Ian, you’ve had hundreds of your theater friends sign an online petition, gotten an official letter of support from the president of the Actors Equity Association, started a Twitter hashtag campaign that is generating some buzz on Broadway, and even gotten the attention of some famous actors. Do you feel this is making a difference? Is it enough to stand against the fifth largest American retailer?”

“As Katie said, these aren’t just buildings Thrifty Co. would be taking. These are family businesses, only sources of income, and in the case of the Valiant, a beautiful theater with a rich history that would be lost if Thrifty took over that part of town. The Valiant, like many theaters, is a work of art in itself, and it’s been an anchor in In Between for decades. It must be saved.”