Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6) (4 page)

“There’s not exactly a surplus of guys with a general
contractor’s license, managerial experience, as well as the capital to invest
in a partnership, Doc.”

“Call me Matt. I promise not to tell you to turn your head
and cough tonight.”

Justin laughed. He sure as hell hoped not, or his doctor
might feel more in Justin’s shorts than he bargained for. Seeing Trisha again
had kept him semi-hard all evening.

“I might be able to hook you up with someone,” Matt told
him. “Are you familiar with Danvers Quality Homes in the Flemington area?”

“Hell, yeah. They do beautiful work.” At least as good as
Marc’s. They were only twenty minutes from Redemption.

“Abby and I are good friends with the couple who own the
company. I was in ‘Nam with Ben Danvers. He and his wife have been eager to
retire. Their son Mike has his contractor’s license and manages their site
operations. They’re more or less in the same situation you are. If his parents
retire, Mike will be short-handed in the sales and business office, which is
where your company seems to be stronger.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Luke asked. “That Justin
merges with Danvers?”

“Exactly.”

“Hey, I’m open to the idea, if we can agree on terms,”
Justin told Matt. It would solve a lot of his problems.

He and Marc had carried life insurance policies on one
another to buy the deceased’s half of the business should one of them pass
away. Upon his business partner’s death, Justin had become the sole owner of
R&S and had invested the insurance payout for Marc’s share of the company
for Haley.

Also, when he’d moved in with Marc back in January, his
friend had sold him his home, which Justin had designed, so they could put away
the equity from the house for Haley’s future, while still keeping her in the
home she’d grown up in.

“I’ll talk to my buddy,” Matt said. “If he and his wife and
son are interested, I’ll have them give you a call.”

Justin pulled two business cards from his wallet, and handed
one to Matt and the other to Luke. “If this deal is viable, I’d be very
interested in designing and building the school.”

“I’m sure a potential multi-million-dollar contract will
sweeten the deal for Matt’s friends.” Luke gave him his cell phone number as
well as BJ and Tyler’s. “If you can’t get me while I’m away on my honeymoon,
either Beej or Ty can handle any decisions that need to be made. Tyler will
have power of attorney for the project while I’m gone.”

Justin shook both men’s hands. “Thank you. I look forward to
talking to you both.”

When he returned to his table, the waiter had already served
the next course, Italian wedding soup, which he supposed was one of the
concessions to the meat lovers in the crowd.

Trisha and BJ arrived back at the table right after him, and
they all resumed their meal. Justin scanned the tent searching for Frankie’s
dark head and found her at Andy’s table.

A younger version of Frankie appeared at his side. “Hi,
Justin, I’m Crissy. My sister sent me to apologize for abandoning you. She
stole my seat, so do you mind if I take hers?”

“Not at all. Are she and her husband working things out?”

“Everyone hopes so. Andy’s crazy about her. But Frankie has
a little more trouble forgiving and forgetting than some of us.”

The waiter brought a fresh napkin and place setting for
Crissy, as Tyler and Annie returned from the dance floor.

“Crissy, what’re you doing here?” Annie glanced around to
the bridesmaid’s former table. “Ahh. A game of musical chairs? Let’s hope this
ends Frankie’s plans for divorce.”

A few minutes later, the fourth course arrived—a green salad
accompanied by a crostini topped with smoked salmon pate. A mother of pearl
spoon filled with black caviar balanced on the rim of each plate.

Judging from the quality of the rest of the food at the
wedding and Ben’s bank balance, Justin suspected it was the really good stuff.

Annie promptly dumped the inky dollop from her salad on the
side of her husband’s dish.

“Sweetheart,”—Tyler heaved a sigh—“how will you ever
cultivate a taste for caviar if you never even try it?”

Annie wrinkled her nose. “I have absolutely no intention of
learning to like those disgusting fish eggs.”

“But you have no problem eating chickens’ eggs?”

“They’re totally different.”

“True. But how do you know you won’t like it if you’ve never
even tasted caviar? Do you realize you just threw about twenty bucks on my
plate?”

“That’s why I put it there—so you could enjoy it, and I
won’t feel bad about wasting it.”

Trisha placed her caviar spoon on Ben’s plate. “I’m with
you, Annie. No, thank you.”

Ben shook his head at Trisha. “Don’t get in the middle of
their game. They’ve been bickering about this for over a year, now, and
probably will continue the argument until one of them buries the other.”

“Not gonna happen, pal.” Tyler took his wife’s hand and
kissed it. “We made a pact to go together in our sleep.”

“Just like in
The Notebook
,”
Annie smiled.

“Oh, I loved that movie.” Crissy sighed.

Through the next two courses—fried calamari with spicy
marinara, followed by a minty sorbet as a palate cleanser—Cal and Darlene asked
Ben and Tyler leading questions that were clearly subtle requests for
investment advice. It quickly became evident that BJ Elliott had made the
fortune he had because he and his trusted advisor both knew how to take full
advantage of any kind of economic turn.

The look of admiration in Trisha’s eyes nauseated him. If
anyone at this table got some nooky tonight, it would be BJ Elliott. But not if
Justin had anything to say about it.

As the wait staff cleared the sixth course, the band took a
break and Santa stepped up to the microphone again. “Ho-ho-ho! Has everyone
been good this year? He dragged a bulging sack to the younger kids’ table and
pulled out a wrapped box. “How about you, Noah? Have you been a good boy this
year?”

“Don’t you already know?” Noah asked.

“Yeah,” Mandy, the flower girl, chimed in. “Didn’t you check
your list twice to see if we’ve been naughty or nice?”

Tyler buried his face in his hand. “Leave it to our kids to
bust St. Nick’s chops.”

Santa laughed. “Okay, kids, you all get presents just for
being smarter than me.” He emptied the sack, handing each child at the table a
personally tagged package, while costumed elves transported the piles of presents
from under the trees to each table and distributed them.

When Justin tore the paper from his gift, he expected
something generic like a pen and pencil set or a tie, but instead he received a
beautiful monogrammed leather case containing a top-of-the-line drafting kit.
Unbelievable. He’d actually been planning to buy a new compass.

“Ben, you’ve only known for a week that Haley and I were
attending the wedding. How did you—”

“I have very good people working for me. Santa has spent
every spare moment for the last month researching and shopping. I can’t take
any credit except for paying the bills.”

“Well, thank you. This is beautiful.”

Cal received a new holster and a gift certificate to a gun
shop. When Darlene unwrapped an apron and two tickets to a taping of
The Iron Chef
in New York, she squealed,
“Oh, my gosh. I love this show, Ben! You have to
know
someone to get tickets for it.”

“Well, Beej knows a lot of people.” Tyler chuckled.

Crissy jumped up to exchange gifts, distributed according to
the seating chart, with Frankie. When Annie opened a five-pound box of imported
Swiss chocolates and Tyler received a thirty-year-old bottle of scotch, Ben
said, “You two will get the rest of your gifts later tonight.” He turned to
Trisha and smiled. “Aren’t you gonna open yours?”

She merely nodded and tore the gold foil from a slender
jeweler’s box. She pulled out a long strand of perfectly matched pearls and
gasped. “Oh, Ben, they’re beautiful. It’s way too much.”

“Frankie told me you had the kind of flawless complexion
that would compliment a pearl necklace. I think she misstated it. It’s more
like the pearls compliment you.”

“Thank you. Would you put them on me?”

Justin’s fists clenched beneath the table as she turned to
let BJ fasten the clasp. When the man laid a kiss on her bare shoulder, he
wanted to strangle the overly generous sonovabitch.

~*~

Trisha tried to eat only half of each course, but the
fettuccini Alfredo with grilled shrimp and the perfectly cooked filet and
lobster tail with asparagus and glazed baby carrots were so delicious, she practically
licked her plate clean.

Throughout the entire meal, Justin watched every bite she
took, making her so self-conscious she dropped her fork twice. By the end of
ninth course, she was so on edge and full, she could barely breathe.

“You’re looking a little green around the gills, Trisha.”
Justin popped the last bite of his assorted fruit and cheese plate into his
mouth. “You okay?”

“I’ve just eaten too much. I don’t think I’ll be able to
handle dessert.”

He rose and strolled around to her side of the table,
extending his hand. “Why don’t we go work off some of our dinner?” he
suggested.

She’d already danced with Cal and Tyler, so to refuse Justin
would be a real slap in the face. “Okay. It’ll probably help to get up and move
a little. But no fast dancing, or my seams may split wide open.”

“Mmm, I can’t wait.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he led her
to the center of the dance floor and pulled her close. “As a betting man, I’d
wager you aren’t wearing much under that dress since it fits like shrink-wrap.
I didn’t see a single panty line.”

Great. So he’d actually been studying her butt while she’d
been foxtrotting with BJ.

After a few moments silently dancing to a soft Johnny Mathis
song, he said, “I guess it was a big adjustment living on a waitress’s pay
after you left home.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I worked at a greasy spoon for a few
months to get experience, and then I landed a position at a swanky, four-star
restaurant. I made pretty good money.”

“It takes more than
pretty
good
money to live in Manhattan.”

“Not if you share a one-bedroom efficiency in a
not-so-glamorous neighborhood.”

“Precisely—a big adjustment from Philly’s Mainline.
Seriously,” he said as he dipped her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?
I would’ve understood. You knew I couldn’t stand your father.”

And he had excellent reasons to hate her old man even more
than she had. “I simply needed a clean break. You had no interest in getting
serious, so there—”

“Whoa. What do you call sleeping together every night if not
serious
?
We were planning on renting an apartment together in January since
Marc and Lindsey had gotten hitched.”

“Exactly. I’m referring to marriage. All you talked about
was how Sam had ruined your brother’s life and career by getting pregnant, and
how no woman was ever going to do that to you.”

“Well, obviously I was wrong about Nick’s life being
ruined.” He glanced over at his brother and sister-in-law snuggled together on
the dance floor. “He’ll tell you Sam, Dani, and little Chris were the best
things that ever happened to him.”

“Still, you were so anti-marriage I knew there was no future
for us. So why should I have told you?”

He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. “Because I
thought
we meant something to each
other.”

“But not enough to spend a lifetime together, right?”

“I was eighteen, for crying out loud. You wanted me to think
about marriage when I still had five years of school and three interning before
I could begin making any real money?”

“You’re thirty-four now, and you’re still single. So I don’t
imagine anything would’ve changed. Otherwise, I’d be dancing with a married
man.”

“Cut me a break. I just haven’t found the right woman.”

“In all these years?”

The muscles in his throat visibly convulsed. “Have you
considered maybe
you
were the right
one?”

“Now, why would I think that when, according to you, the
only thing you care about is if a woman is
beautiful in the dark
.”

“What?” He did a double take. “When did I ever say anything
like that to you?”

“Not to
me
. I
overheard you talking to your friends right before I left. It’s what made me
decide you didn’t deserve to be told. Be honest. The only reason you kept
seeing me was because you were getting laid regularly.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard my entire
conversation.”

“I heard enough to know you were using me.”

“How do you figure?”

“One of the guys was busting your chops and claimed I was a
bit chubby for his taste and, maybe if I got contact lenses, I’d be worth
looking at. You told him he was an idiot, and all you care about is if a woman
is beautiful in the dark. Then you said, ‘
When
you find a girl who worries less about her looks and more about pleasing you,
then you’ll know you’ve found the right one
.’”

“That must have been when you left. Because you obviously didn’t
hear what I said after that.”

She hadn’t wanted to hear anymore. “Why don’t you fill me in
now?”

“You misinterpreted what I said,
cariño.
What I was unsuccessfully trying to tell that jerk was that
he placed too much importance on how a woman looks and not enough on the things
he can’t see when the lights are out.”

“You can’t see anything in the dark.”

“Exactly. I told him he should care if she makes him laugh
and can hold an intelligent conversation, or if she challenges him and makes
him a better person.”

“Oh.” Put that way, it was a pretty nice sentiment.