Kiss the Bride (10 page)

“Funny, my watch must have stopped,” they heard Delaney say. “Which is a bit strange because I had the battery replaced just last week. Could you tell me what time you have?”

“Three thirty-five,” Nick replied.

Lucia and Trudie stared at each other.

“You hear that?” Trudie nudged Lucia in the ribs with her elbow. “Her watch stopped! Just like the clock with you and Leo. It’s a sign. There’s no doubt about it. Those two are fated.”

Hope rose in Lucia’s heart. Could it be true? Was Trudie right?

But Trudie must have spoken too loudly because Nick raised his head and glared in their direction. “Nana? Are you and Trudie hiding under the staircase?”

“Uh-oh,” Lucia whispered. “Busted.”

Seeing the pink-raincoat woman standing in his grandmother’s living room totally blew Nick away. He stared at her and she stared at him and he had no idea what to say or do next.

And then he heard whispering and giggling from
behind the staircase and realized his grandmother and her best friend must be up to something. They’d tried to play matchmaker for him before, but it was beyond his comprehension how they’d found out about Raincoat Woman and lured her here.

One thing was for sure, she seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

Nick strode past her, heading for the small storage closet underneath the staircase where he used to hide as a kid to spy on the grown-ups when they entertained guests in the living room.

“Okay, you two, what’s going on here?” Nick asked. His head was still reeling, but he was trying hard not to show it.

“Um, nothing.” His grandmother had a guilty look about her.

“Who is that woman?” he whispered urgently, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

“That’s Delaney Cartwright,” Nana said. “I just hired her to stage the house. Isn’t she beautiful? Such a face.”

“Do what?” Nick couldn’t believe the strangeness of the coincidence. His grandmother hiring the woman he’d been fantasizing about for the last three days and trying his damnedest to forget.

Maybe it’s not coincidence,
a disturbing voice in the back of his head whispered.
Maybe it’s kismet. Maybe it’s the whammy.

Except Nick no longer believed in all that true love, soul mate, Italian-strength romantic whammy stuff his grandmother had spoon-fed her grandchildren along with her macaroni, pizza, and tiramisu. Amber had knocked the faith right out of him.

“I’ve talked to a real estate agent, and she said if I
wanted the house to sell quickly then I should hire someone to stage it. So I interviewed Delaney. I like her and I hired her.” Nana crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that just dared him to argue.

What? His grandmother had already talked to a real estate agent? Without waiting to discuss it with the family? This impulse of hers to sell the house was more serious than he’d guessed. “I don’t get it. What’s a house stager?”

“A house stager is a person who comes in and fixes up your place so that it will appeal to a wider range of buyers.”

“Remember when Artie died and I couldn’t sell my house?” Trudie added. “It sat on the market for over two years until I hired Delaney. She staged my house, and it sold three days later for three thousand dollars more than the original asking price.”

That sounded impressive, but Nick didn’t want Nana to sell the house. Everywhere he looked, the past beckoned. Whenever he glanced around the living room, he saw the windowpane that he, his brothers, and his cousins had once busted out playing baseball with a pair of rolled-up socks and a red plastic bat on a rainy day when they’d been cooped up indoors. Who knew that socks—properly whacked—could rocket through glass like that?

In his mind’s eye, he could see the Christmas tree, drowning in presents for the huge Vinetti clan. Or the fireplace where they’d hung their stockings. He pictured the archway leading into the kitchen where Grampa Leo always strung mistletoe so he could catch Nana around the waist and kiss her in front of everyone.

Nick smiled, recalling the time his baby sister, Gina, had sneaked a kiss from her boyfriend when she’d thought
no one was watching and their braces had gotten locked together. He had teased her unmercifully for weeks afterward.

He saw the kitchen, full of life and laughter, as his family gathered around, cooking and eating and swapping stories. The scents were in his nose—onion and garlic, oregano and basil. The tastes filled his mouth—marinara sauce, pesto, mozzarella.

The memories hung in his mind like a drop of rich honey, thick and sweet, caught in the cleft of time and held preserved in this house. He’d always imagined bringing his own children here someday—at holidays, during the summer, to visit their great-grandmother and give them a glimpse into his history.

Tight-lipped, Nick battled to keep his emotions in check. His chest tightened.

Delaney Cartwright stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her clothes were a far cry from what she’d been wearing the first time he’d seen her. Her pale green suit was simple and tailored, but obviously expensive. She wore sensible one-inch heels. Tall, willowy, long straight hair that was either light brown or dark blond depending upon your definition. Her cheekbones were high and her eyes were green as the Gulf. Eyes a guy could dive into without a look back.

Charlize Theron had nothing on this woman.

Although sans the raincoat and risqué lingerie he’d seen her in before, she possessed the same regal aura as the actress. She had delicate bone structure and a way of holding herself that suggested blue-blood breeding.

What had happened to the hotsie-totsie who’d ambushed him outside of Doc Van Zandt’s place? That was who had fired his engines. This sophisticated-looking woman flat
unnerved him with her old money aura rising up from her like the scent of freshly minted hundred-dollar bills. Her serenity and his unwanted attraction to her set his teeth on edge.

He searched for a reason to dislike her.

She looked like the kind of woman who had been floating through life on her gorgeous looks and her stacks of money, never having to take a stand or fight for something she believed in. He knew the Cartwright name. It was familiar to everyone in Texas. No doubt about it. This one had been handed the world on a silver platter.

He inflated his resentment, hunting for anything that would let the air out of this powerful attraction. She was too polished. Too perfect. With a woman like her, a guy would always be on the hot seat, never able to live up to the expectations of Daddy’s little princess.

“I don’t understand why you have to sell the house,” he said, turning back to his grandmother.

“Without your grandfather, the magic is gone. It’s just a house now, no longer a home. It should be a home again, filled with laughter and love and lots of children,” she said.

“You shouldn’t be making such a major decision when you’re still grieving, Nana. It’s only been a little over two months.”

“It’s time to move on, Nicky. Wallowing in grief isn’t going to bring your grandfather back. I’m lonely here on the island, and there’s finally an opening at Orchid Villa in a condo right near Trudie’s.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were lonely? I can get the family together. Make sure someone comes over to spend time with you every day.”

“All you kids have your own lives to lead and besides, someone comes to visit almost every weekend. But I need
to socialize with people my own age. I need to start a new life.”

“At seventy-three?”

“What would you have me do? Curl up in bed and wait to die? Leo would be pretty mad if I did that.”

Nick knotted his hands into fists. He felt so damn helpless. Over the course of the last thirteen months so many bad things had happened, and he desperately needed for something to stay the same.

“I just hate to see you make a mistake.”

“Nicky.” She took his hand in hers and patted it. “It’s okay to let go. Clinging serves no one.”

“I’m trying.”

“There’s something else I have to tell you that you’re probably not going to like.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I can’t afford to hire Delaney’s crew, so I promised you’d help her do the renovations that need to be done before the house can be put on the market.”

“You did what?”

“Don’t look at me that way. You told me yourself you’re bored out of your skull. Well, now you have something to do.”

Nick couldn’t stop the disappointment, hurt, resentment, and regret from building up inside him.

Don’t be a selfish jerk. Think about what Nana needs. Back her up.
But did his grandmother actually know what was best for her? Or was she simply making decisions based on blind grief and loneliness? He might not be able to stop her from putting the house on the market, but maybe he could find a way to slow down the whole process. Keep it from selling too quickly and buy some time until he could talk sense into Nana.

Turning back around, Nick saw Delaney waiting patiently for him to break up the huddle under the staircase. She looked as if nothing could ruffle her steadfast aplomb.

It set his teeth on edge and stirred in him a mighty urge to do whatever it took to sabotage the project and chase this house stager far away from his grandmother’s home.

He sauntered back toward her, eyes narrowed, lips cocked sardonically, arms crossed over his chest in an I’m-gonna-throw-you-out-of-here-on-your-ear stance. Delaney had overheard enough of his conversation with his grandmother to glean the gist of it. He was not happy about Lucia’s decision to sell her house.

He trod closer.

Too close.

Crowding her space, making it hard for her to think straight. His shoulders were wider than she remembered, but her memory more than adequately recalled his muscular athletic body. How could she forget when he’d had it pressed against the length of her?

Delaney realized convincing Lucia to hire her was not the test she had to pass. Here was the challenge. Here was the threshold guardian. If she wanted this job, Nick was the one she was going to have to convince.

She thought of the opportunity she’d be missing out on. A shot at publicizing All the World’s a Stage on television and making it a rousing success. A prospect to spread her wings and fly. A chance to prove that she wasn’t just a spoiled Cartwright princess.

Years of kowtowing to her mother, of repressing her opinions, of being the good girl and doing the right thing boiled up inside her.

This time she refused to keep quiet, refused to back down. This time, she was going to get what she wanted.

Clearing her throat, Delaney gave him her most professional smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Mr. Vinetti, but when you were speaking to your grandmother I got the distinct impression you’re not in favor of investing money to have the house staged.”

“Your assumption is correct, Ms. Cartwright.”

“If you give me the chance, I can prove to you the value of my services.”

“Oh, you can?”

“Yes.”

“How’s that? By showing up on my doorstep in a pink raincoat?” His gaze took a deliberate road trip down her body.

He was bringing that up? She couldn’t believe his audacity. She was mentally halfway to the door when she realized that was exactly his intention. To chase her off.

She ignored his comment, opened up her briefcase, and pulled out the glossy, tri-fold brochure for All the World’s a Stage.

He looked it over, quickly flipping to the back page to find her fee structure. “Kinda pricey. I think maybe you’re peddling your wares in the wrong neighborhood. Try The Woodlands. They can afford to be gullible up there.”

“As I told your grandmother, I’m willing to defer the payment of my services until the house sells, and if it does not sell in a specified period of time, I don’t get paid at all.” She raised her chin.

A suspicious glint shaded his eyes. “Now why would you do that?”

“Your grandmother’s house presents an exciting
opportunity to expand my business.” She told him about the
American Home Design
contest.

“Yes, I see what’s in it for you, but what’s in it for my grandmother?”

“Quick sell of her house for an asking price that will more than offset what I charge.”

“Maybe we don’t want a quick sell. Maybe we’d rather have the right buyer, one who could love this house as much as we do over someone with deep pockets.”

“Your grandmother needs a quick sell in order to purchase the condo she’s interested in.”

He glared at her suspiciously.

“There’s just one catch to my proposition.”

“Of course there’s a catch.” He was looking at her mouth and it unnerved her. “There’s always a catch. What is it?”

She regretted having to say this. Dragging the words from her mouth was almost painful. “In order to save your grandmother money, you’re going to have to stand in for my crew.”

Just what in God’s name had she gotten herself into? She couldn’t believe she’d be working so closely with the one man in the world she had hoped never to see again.

Delaney lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. One pillow under her head, the other clutched to her chest. She must be out of her mind.