Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6) (2 page)

“Uhhh, Frankie.” Trisha stole a glance at her friend whose
attention remained fixed on the traffic. “There’s something I should probably
mention before you take me along as a potential conquest for this billionaire.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

She winced slightly and blurted, “
I’m a little bit pregnant
.”

“What!” Frankie jerked her gaze away from the road to look
at her. “No one can be just a
little
pregnant.”

“What I meant is I’m only in my first trimester. A little
over eleven weeks to be exact.”

“Wait a minute. You just said you haven’t had sex in five
years. So who’s the father?”

“Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome 2613. He’s six-one, 190
pounds, and has dark hair and brown eyes. He has a college degree and an
excellent family health history.”

Frankie’s brow furrowed. “Are you saying you went to a sperm
bank? And if so, why? That’s kind of drastic.”

Trisha shrugged one shoulder. “I’m thirty-four and time’s
running out.”

“But women have babies into their forties these days.”

“Yeah, but I only have one ovary and, therefore, less eggs.”
She took another swallow of her tepid coffee.

“Don’t most women with only one still ovulate every month? I
thought the other ovary compensates.”

 
“Exactly. So those
women run out of eggs sooner. I lost my right ovary when I was only eighteen,
so my left one has been working overtime for a lot of years. I figured if I’m
ever gonna become a mother, I’d better not waste any more time.”

“Wow, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been trying for six months and finally hit the jackpot
the middle of October. I’m due July twelfth, seven weeks before I have to go
back to work. It would’ve been nice if I’d gotten pregnant in September so I’d
have the whole summer with the baby, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Frankie heaved a sigh. “I guess I might’ve done the same
thing in your position. So why are you suddenly telling me this now?”

“I’d planned to wait another month, until after I start to
show, to tell anyone. But I want you to understand why I can’t get involved
with anyone right now.” Not even a billionaire. “No guy wants to be saddled
with some test tube’s baby.”

“Who says you have to get
involved
?” Frankie chuckled. “You could simply console Ben and have
a little fun while you’re at it.” She wiggled her finely arched eyebrows.
“You’re the perfect fling for each other. You’re temporarily off the market,
and I’m sure he’s not emotionally ready to get serious again, yet. You can use
each other for a little bedroom
quid pro
quo
. I mean, unlike other women, it’s not like he has to worry he’ll knock
you up and be on the hook for child support, right?”

“True.” Trisha shrugged. “I’ll just have to wait and see if
he gives me goose bumps.”

Frankie grinned sideways at her. “You do know it’s Christmas
Eve and below freezing, right?”

“Touché.”

“I really do understand why you did it. Andy and I tried to
get pregnant for two years without success—and I have
two
ovaries. Our failure to conceive is partly why we split up.
He’s also one of the reasons I asked you to come to the wedding.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s one of Luke’s groomsmen. In fact, I think Sabrina has
him escorting me in the ceremony.”

“Ahhh.” Trisha nodded slowly. “So she’s playing matchmaker,
hoping to get the two of you back together?”

“Exactly. I’m counting on you to run interference. If Andy
corners me, interrupt and make some excuse to drag me away. I don’t want to be
alone with him.”

“Okee-dokey.”

The Toyota’s right wheel hit a huge pothole, making Trisha
cringe from the sudden blow to her bladder. She crossed her legs and asked,
“How long did you say this trip to the Poconos would take?

“The resort’s pretty far north, so it’s a little over two
hours. Why do you ask?”

“Because, due to you generously providing coffee this
morning and the fact I’m pregnant, we should probably stop before we get
there—unless you don’t mind having a wet seat.”

“Right. I suppose you’ll want the bed closest to the
bathroom tonight, too.”

“Definitely.”

Frankie flipped on her directional to exit the highway.
“Then again, that may become a moot point if your girl parts tingle when you
meet Ben.”

“In that case, you can take any bed you like.”

~*~

“Oh, my gosh, Frankie, you only told me she was pretty!” a
golden-haired woman shrieked that afternoon as Trisha followed her friend into
the resort’s wreath and twinkle light spangled salon. “I never expected
gorgeous.”

“Sabrina, I’d like you to meet Trisha Mason. Trish, this is
the bride and my oldest friend, Sabrina Fitzpatrick.”

“Oldest, meaning we’ve known each other forever, not that
I’m
ancient,” Sabrina told her.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Trisha smiled at the bubbly
woman. “Thanks for asking Frankie to bring a female friend to your wedding.”

“More like
ordered
,”
Frankie muttered.

“I take it she told you my nefarious plan to try to distract
Ben this evening?”

“Actually, Frankie used the word
console
.”

Sabrina chuckled. “She would. Seriously, I know tonight will
be painful for him, particularly since he’s Luke’s best man. I’d really
appreciate it if you would help keep him from brooding for the next few days.”

“I’ll do my best—assuming he likes me.”

“Well, let’s get her in one of the chairs and make sure
she’s irresistible,” a tiny woman with a dark cap of curls suggested behind
Sabrina.

“This is Annie Fitzpatrick,”—Frankie waved toward the
woman—“the maid of honor.”

“Fitzpatrick? Are you and Sabrina related?”

“I’m married to her brother, Tyler.”

“Ty is Luke’s oldest friend.” Sabrina explained. “The two of
them roomed with BJ in college.” She stepped back and studied Trisha’s
shoulder-length hair. She glanced at Frankie and Annie. “What do you girls
think she should have done?”

“I’ve always thought some blond highlights would look great
on you,” Frankie suggested.

“Definitely,” Annie agreed, “and maybe a trim and some
shaping.”

Even though the salon overflowed with other guests having
their hair and nails done for the wedding, they seated Trisha in front of a
mirror in only minutes. “Is the salon always this busy?” she asked Clarence,
her hairdresser, whose bleached, spiked hair didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

“The resort wishes that were so. Mr. Elliott hired me and
four other stylists to drive out from Manhattan to handle the wedding
overflow.”

“Okay, I’m putting my head in your hands, Clarence. If I
look hideous when you’re through, you’re gonna have to answer to the bride.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any complaints.” In record time,
he washed, highlighted, and whacked off a lot more hair than Trisha had
anticipated losing. But as he styled her locks with the blow dryer, the man’s
talent soon became clear.

Clarence clearly wasn’t just an ordinary hairdresser from
some walk-in budget salon like she usually patronized. She would bet a month’s
salary this guy styled the hair of the rich and famous on Park Avenue.

The collar length style he’d chosen flattered her face,
emphasizing its heart shape. And the layers he’d cut gave her baby-fine hair a
fullness she’d never had before. However, the highlights made the biggest
transformation.

“
Holy-moley
,”
Frankie said, walking around the chair as Clarence whipped off the protective
cape. “Talk about a blonde bombshell.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Trisha said, admiring
the up-do Frankie’s stylist had given her.

Frankie pointed to the back of the salon. “Time for a
mani-pedi.”

“Okay, but would you pinch me first? I never expected I’d
get pampered like this.”

“No pinching. It’s all courtesy of Ben.”

Trisha continued staring at the mirror and laughed. “Great.
After all of this, I’m gonna
have
to
sleep with him—whether my girl parts tingle or not.”

“If that’s the case,”—Frankie swept her hand around the room
filled with women—“Ben’s gonna have a crowded bed tonight.”

As they walked to the back of the salon, a young voice
called, “Ms. Mason, Ms. Conner, what are you two doing here?”

Trisha turned and discovered Dani Riverá, one of the
students from her school, sitting at a manicurist’s station having her
fingernails painted a dark purple.

“Hi, Dani. We’re here for the wedding. Ms. Conner’s brother
is the groom, and she invited me as her plus-one. What are you doing here?”

“The bride was one of my nurses back when I got sick. She
and my mom became good friends.”

When the school hired her, a little over a year ago, to
counsel Sue Carlson’s students during her maternity leave, Trisha had gotten to
know Dani and her best friend, Haley.

After learning who Dani’s uncle and Haley’s father were,
Trisha had been relieved to transfer the
R
through
Z
files back to Sue in
September and be reassigned to counsel the
M
through
P
students previously
overseen by the recently retired Mr. Barton.

“How’s school going this year? Are you and Haley attending
all your classes?”

“Yes, ma’am. Well, at least
I
am.”

Not surprisingly Haley was still having problems. Trisha had
heard Marc had passed away during the summer. She knew what it felt like to
lose a parent. She’d been only twelve when her own mom died from a brain
aneurysm. Losing both parents had to be twice as devastating for Haley.

Speak of the devil, the dark-haired teen bounded up to the
table a second later, out of breath. “The beautician told me, since I’m a
minor, I need my mother with me if I want hot pink highlights. You should’a
seen the witch’s face when I told her that would be tough since my mom’s been
dead for two years.” Haley suddenly noticed Trisha and Frankie standing there
and frowned. “Ms. Mason, Ms. Conner. What’re you doin’ here?”

“We just went through all that,” Dani told her, explaining
Frankie’s relationship to the groom and that Trisha was her plus-one.

“I like the highlights, Ms. Mason,” Haley gave her a thumbs
up. “You look hot.”

“Thanks.” She waved toward Haley’s long tresses. “I would
kill for hair as thick and shiny as yours. Why do you want to mess it up with
bright pink streaks?”

“I dunno.” Haley shrugged. “Just to do somethin’ different,
I guess.”

“I’m sure if you ask Dani’s mom, she’ll come with you and
give her permission.”

“Or
you
could
pretend to be my mom.”

Trisha raised her hands and backed up. “No way. I’m not your
guardian.”

Haley gathered a hank of her dark locks in her hand and
studied the ends. “You really think my hair’s beautiful?”

“You bet. I’d love to have shiny dark waves like the two of
you. Blond hair looks so dull.” Combined with her fair complexion, she’d always
felt drab and colorless.

“But blondes are supposed to have more fun, aren’t they?”
Haley asked.

“They’re also supposed to be D-U-M-B,” Dani reminded her
friend. “But Ms. Mason doesn’t qualify.”

“Thanks. As for the fun part, you can’t prove it by me. I
lead a pretty boring life.”

“Not tonight.” Frankie nudged her in the ribs and grinned.
“There’ll be nothing boring about your evening. Come on, let’s have our nails
done. I’m getting a gel manicure so I don’t ruin it when I have to stuff my
ample butt into my Spanx tonight.”

Trisha gestured toward the five occupied manicurist
stations. “We’d better start with our feet. We’ll see you at the wedding,
girls. Have fun.”

“You, too,” Dani called back to her.

“Oh-my-gosh,” Haley giggled, whispering loud enough for
Trisha to still hear. “She actually came as Ms. Conner’s
plus-one
? Do you think they’re, you know.... lesbians?”

Trisha froze in her tracks and grabbed Frankie’s arm.

“Maybe,” Dani responded. “They
do
eat lunch together a lot. Now aren’t you glad you came with us
and didn’t miss this?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Ryan and his friends are gonna be so bummed when they hear
hottie, Ms. Mason, bats for the other team.”

“Nah, they’re guys. They’ll just fantasize about
watchin’
her instead of
doin
’ her,” Haley predicted.

Trisha turned to Frankie and whispered, “Did you hear what
they just said?”

“Yup. Just keep walkin’, girlfriend. The truth will become
clear when they see you cozying up to BJ on the dance floor tonight.”

True. Either then, or when her belly swelled in another
month. Although, the girls just might realize she could’ve used a sperm donor
and wonder if Frankie and she were planning to raise her baby together.

Breaking with tradition, the cocktail hour had been held at
BJ Elliott’s mansion
before
the
wedding, during which time the guests had enjoyed a lavish assortment of hot and
cold hors d’oeuvres with their drinks.

Justin rolled his eyes at his brother, Nick, and Dani’s
boyfriend, Ryan, while they waited in the reception line after the wedding,
listening to the girls rhapsodize about how beautiful the candlelit ceremony
had been against the backdrop of an immense Christmas tree and dozens of
poinsettias.

All he’d thought about during the service was how the local
fire marshal would feel about hundreds of candles burning all around the
ballroom.

“Wasn’t it adorable when Annie and Tyler’s kids walked Luke
and Sabrina’s puppies down the aisle,” Dani gushed to Ryan.

“I know.” Haley laughed, hugging herself. “I love the little
tuxedo and red velvet bridesmaid’s gown Dusty and Mopsy are wearing”

“This afternoon, Annie mentioned her son complained about
being the ring bearer,” Justin’s sister-in-law, Samantha, told them. “Noah
thought he was too old, so that’s why they strapped the ring pillow on Dusty’s
back.”

Justin heaved a sigh. Thank God, Haley finally seemed to be
having some fun. He pulled his brother aside and asked, “So how’d Sam convince
you to leave the baby home with Ryan’s sister for three days and nights?”

“What makes you think
she
convinced
me
?”

He glanced at his worry-wart brother and pandered to his ego
by reversing the question. “Okay, how’d
you
convince
her
?”

“I didn’t have to. David Lambert, our pediatrician, talked
her into it.”

“How’d he do that?”

“Dave told her that, at less than six months old,
Christopher doesn’t even know what Christmas is, and he’ll be happier and
healthier sleeping in his own warm bed with babysitters spoiling him than he
would being dragged to the frosty Pocono Mountains and exposed to two hundred
people’s germs. He also told her that, as a new mother, she needs a little
break from him before he’s old enough to really miss her.”

“Whoa, and you swallowed that—I mean,
she
swallowed that hook, line, and sinker?”

“Not at first. The clincher came when Dave told us he and
his wife, Casey, were coming to the wedding, too, and leaving their three month
old daughter home with her sister, Brianna. After Sammy repeated his advice to
her friends who have infants, they all decided to leave their rugrats home,
too.”

“I guess the men of Redemption are gettin’ some this week.”
All except him. Haley had been right. It had been too damn long since he’d
dated anyone.

“I don’t know about that.” Nick chuckled. “But we
will
enjoy a few nights of uninterrupted
sleep.” He jerked his head toward Dani and Haley. “Of course, that’s assuming
those two don’t keep us up all night with their giggling. I should’ve given you
the room that connects to theirs.”

“Who’s Ryan staying with?”

“A lot of Luke’s Police Explorer’s club kids are here.
They’re the ushers. Ryan’s bunking with them in the mansion’s basement rec
room.”

The teenage boy who’d smiled at Haley when he seated their
family must be one of them. He’d stared at her during the entire ceremony. It
shouldn’t matter that the kid was obviously biracial. Hell, the boy’s skin was
lighter than Justin’s after he spent a summer in the sun. Still, it did disturb
him a bit. But his knee-jerk reaction wasn’t due to disapproval of Haley
getting involved with a racially-mixed guy.

No. His hackles had risen simply because he didn’t want her
facing the social prejudice he had. For the first time, he had a better
understanding of why his first girlfriend’s WASP daddy, who lived in one of the
mansions on Philadelphia’s Mainline, had objected so vehemently when she began
dating him—a poor second-generation Mexican-American from South Philly.

Unfortunately, understanding didn’t make her desertion sting
any less, even now, years later.

“Thanks so much for coming,” the groom, Luke, said when
Justin and Haley reached the front of the receiving line.

“Thanks for including me so our family could be together for
Christmas.” Justin shook his hand.

“You’re Nick’s brother, right?” At his nod, Luke continued,
“I understand you’re an architect and the owner of R&S Construction.”

“That’s right.” He put his arm around Haley. “Actually, one
of the owners. Haley’s late father, Marc Simmons, was my partner and the
craftsman who took my ideas from blueprint to reality.”

“Sometime tonight or tomorrow I’d like to discuss a
potential project with you.” Luke lowered his voice to barely more than a
whisper. “It’s something big that I haven’t told Sabrina about yet.”

Overhearing, the bride turned to Luke. “What haven’t you
told me?”

“I’ll tell you later.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “When we’re
alone.”

“Great.” Justin nodded. “Just corner me anytime you’re free
to talk.”

“Do you believe this house?” Sam whispered as Justin
followed her and Nick out of the Tudor mansion’s ballroom to the huge foyer. “I
wonder how many bedrooms it has. And bathrooms.”

Nick snorted. “Certainly more than you want to clean.”

“Well, I could hire a maid. Now that my Worry Pals have
taken off, we can certainly afford more than just a weekly cleaning service.”

A year ago, Nick had negotiated a lucrative deal with a toy
company to buy Sam’s design for the newest craze in stuffed animals. With a
kids’ cartoon already in production and subsidiary merchandizing contracts
rolling in daily, they would soon be rolling in money.

“Are you saying you’d like to move someplace bigger?” Nick
asked, taking her silk shawl from her and wrapping it around her shoulders.

She smiled back at her husband. “Of course not, sweetheart.
I love our house. I’m just saying we don’t have to worry about how many toilets
I have to scrub.”

Their family followed the butler’s directions and headed
down a wide hallway to the back of the mansion. They exited through French
doors into an enormous heated greenhouse that enclosed a large freeform pool.
Complete with a waterfall and surrounded by exotic shrubs and flowering plants,
the sparkling pool offered BJ Elliot a four-season tropical oasis.

“Wow!” both Haley and Dani simultaneously exclaimed.

“Wow is right,” Justin said. There were so many flowers he
couldn’t even smell chlorine.

They followed the line of guests through the glass
enclosure’s rear door. A wide red carpet crossed about fifteen yards of packed
snow to an enormous heated tent that could have held a three-ring
circus—complete with trapeze artists. A line of patio heaters on both sides of
the runner kept the nearly two hundred guests warm while they waited under the
stars to throw rose petals at the bride and groom.

As Luke and Sabrina finally emerged, the trees and shrubbery
around the property burst into a rainbow of colors. A barrage of fireworks
exploded overhead, lighting the sky. Haley’s eyes sparkled with the same
excitement of a little girl waiting to see Santa Claus.

Justin swallowed hard
.
Ahh, Marc, I wish you and Lindsey were here to see how beautiful she looks
tonight. You’d be so proud of her.

He sure as hell was, and she wasn’t even his daughter.

Sam had taken both girls out to buy cocktail dresses. Haley
had chosen a frothy turquoise dress with a full swishy skirt. She looked so
grown up. He had no idea where she’d gotten the fancy matching wrap and shoes.
Sam had probably bought those for her, too. Matching accessories weren’t
something he ever would’ve considered if he’d taken Haley shopping.

He owed his sister-in-law big time for assuming the job of
part-time mom to Haley. Although he had no desire to get married, he really
should think about finding a steady girlfriend so Haley would have a woman’s
influence on a regular basis.

Luke and Sabrina hurried through the double doors of the
tent, and the crowd followed en masse like a tidal wave coming to shore.

“Cool,” Ryan said when they stepped inside.

Cool was an understatement. The elaborate decorations,
complete with giant gingerbread men and wooden soldiers guarding the tent’s
walls, rivaled any large shopping mall’s Christmas display.

Dani turned in a tight circle surveying their surroundings.
“It looks like some fancy ballroom.”

Yards upon yards of netting and white twinkle lights draped
over the tent’s ceiling, and carpet covered most of the portable flooring. Over
a dozen glittering crystal chandeliers hung overhead for illumination, aided by
the lights on the four humongous Christmas trees, one in each corner.

“I had my doubts about a tent in December,” Sam said, “but
it’s actually as warm in here as it was in the house.”

An authentic looking Santa greeted everyone and asked one of
the eight ushers to show each party to their table. When the same tuxedoed boy
who’d seated them for the ceremony saw Haley, he rushed forward, nearly
knocking over one of the other teens. “I’ll help this group, Santa.”

He turned and bowed to the six of them. “Good evening, I’m
Jamal Franklin,” he announced with a formality suggesting he’d been given a
script and coached on etiquette. When Justin gave Jamal their names, the boy
consulted his list and escorted the girls and Ryan to table twelve, which had
been assigned to eight of the teen-aged guests. “I’ll be joining your table as
soon as everyone is seated,” he told them, smiling at Haley and pulling out her
chair. “If you’d like, you can save me the spot next to you.”

“Sure.” Haley grinned back at him.

Great. Justin gritted his teeth. He’d have to watch this kid
like a hawk all night.

Jamal led Nick and Sam to a nearby table where he introduced
them to the three other Redemption couples—the Lamberts, the Manions, and the
Fosters—all of whom his brother and wife already knew. When it became clear
there was no seat for Justin, his brother shrugged.

Was it possible his name had missed going onto the seating
chart since he’d been a last minute addition to the guest list?

Jamal consulted his cheat sheet. “Oh, right. There’s a note
from the bride asking if you would mind being a dinner companion to one of
Lieutenant Marino’s sisters,” he read from the paper, no doubt, to get the
wording correct. “She’s one of the bridesmaids so you’ll be seated at table one
with the best man and Ms. Sabrina’s brother.”

“That’s fine.” At least he had a place to sit.

Jamal led him to the round table near the front and
introduced him to the billionaire, BJ Elliott—also known as Ben—his attorney,
Tyler Fitzpatrick, and Tyler’s wife, Annie, who were already seated.

When Jamal bowed and left, Justin shook everyone’s hand
before sinking into the chair Annie invited him to take next to her.

“Apparently, Sabrina set me up with a date,” Justin told
her.

“That would be Frankie. Actually,
Francesca
, but if you value your teeth, you won’t call her that.
Don’t worry, you’ll like her. She’s gorgeous and lots of fun.”

So maybe he would get lucky, as Haley predicted.

“That’s the price you pay for coming without a date.” Ben
chuckled.

“What’re you laughing at, Elliott?” Tyler smirked at his
friend. “Sabrina forced Frankie to invite a friend for you. My sister doesn’t
want you sobbing into your soup tonight.”

“Seriously?” Ben shook his head and glanced at Justin.
“Until a month ago, I was engaged to marry Sabrina,” he explained. “She and
everyone else think I’m wounded and need consoling.” The big blond billionaire
swept his arm around the tent. “Does all of this look like I’m hurting?”

Certainly not financially.

A sudden distant sound behind Justin made every muscle in
him stiffen. If he lived to be a hundred with a severe case of Alzheimer’s, he
would still recognize Trisha Mason’s throaty laugh. His stomach clenched, and
his pulse kicked into high gear as he took a deep breath, pushed himself to his
feet, and turned to watch her approach.

Of all the gin joints
in all the world
as Bogey had said in
Casa
Blanca
, who would’ve guessed Trisha might walk into this reception—just as
he was beginning to actually get over her. Or so he liked to tell himself.

Damn, she looked good. Thinner than when they’d dated but
still curvy enough to send his blood rushing south. She’d lightened her hair a
few shades and developed a confident wiggle that had every man’s gaze at the
back of the tent straying to her spectacular ass as she sashayed toward his
table.

Her cocktail dress clung like a second skin, while its royal
purple color accentuated her flawless, ivory complexion. The off-the-shoulder
neckline left way more of her incredible creamy skin exposed than was good for any
man’s concentration—let alone his.

How could he feel so bitter toward the woman and yet stand
here lusting after her?

Not only was he pathetic, his dick didn’t have a speck of
pride.

~*~

“Well, well, if it isn’t Trisha Mason. Long time no see.”

Trisha stalled in her tracks and gazed up into the black
coffee eyes that had haunted her dreams for over a decade and a half.

Her pregnancy must have seriously compromised her mental
faculties. Otherwise, she would’ve considered the possibility that Justin might
be at the wedding—especially after seeing Dani in the beauty salon and learning
the Riverá family was invited. Last year, when she’d discovered Justin was
Dani’s uncle, she’d known this day would eventually arrive. She just hadn’t
expected to meet him again in such a public situation.

There was nothing she could do about it now other than grit
her teeth and muddle through. She lifted her chin and forced a smile. “It’s
good to see you again, Justin.”