My Best Friend's Bride (28 page)

Sweat beaded Brad’s hairline. “Oh?”

A subtle smile crept onto her lips and Brad realized she wasn’t mad at him. She was growing misty-eyed! In that womanly, “I’m so in love with you” way. Susan leaned toward him with a whisper. “Isn’t there something you’re supposed to ask me, Brad?”

Oh! Yeah!
That.
Brad swallowed hard, then swallowed again. Gosh, he hoped he could get the words out before Susan’s mom walked into the room and started correcting his diction. “Susan,” he rasped. “Will you marry me?”

“I thought you wanted to wait?”

That wasn’t the answer he expected, so Brad croaked, “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

Susan’s whole face beamed as she leapt into his arms. “Yes, we have, you crazy man!”

He tried to catch her, but the force of her enthusiasm was too strong, sending them both tumbling backward onto the carpet, with Susan landing on top of him while Brad giddily slid the ring on her finger.

Her mom strode briskly into the room and eyed them both with disapproval. “What on earth is going on?”

Brad grabbed Susan’s hand with its newly planted ring and happily waved it in the air. “Susan and me are getting married!”

“I,” her mother said sternly. Then, to Brad and Susan’s amazement, she clapped her hands together and broke into a grin. “But what’s grammar at a time like this? How about we have some champagne!”

Chapter Thirty-One

Cassandra stood on Mauve’s doorstep, holding a big, ridiculous card and a bouquet of roses. It was Valentine’s Day and, up until eight weeks ago, she thought she’d finally have someone to spend it with. She rang the bell once and waited until Mauve arrived at the door. “Cassandra!” The color drained from his face. “I’m stunned to see you.” She peered past him into the room and then she saw why. Mauve was with a woman! And not just any woman, a really cute one wearing a sparkly crop top and snug stretch jeans. The words bubbled from her throat as tears burst from her eyes.
 

“I’m so sorry, Mauve! I didn’t know!” She hastily dropped her offerings at his feet and bolted away, alternately panting and blubbering as she went. Cassandra had never in her life humbled herself before a man, which was probably wise. It hurt like the dickens!

Mauve dashed out the door and raced after her. “Cassandra! Wait!”

She turned with a wail, her eyes running wildly.
“What?”

His eyes were all red and his hair looked a mess. “Where are you going?”

“I…don’t…know,” she stammered. “Away!”

“Then why did you come over?”

“To bring you a card and… Oh, Mauve, what’s the point? You’ve already got a new girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” He glanced at the house, then back at her. “Cassandra, that’s Indigo, my sister.”

“Sister?” Cassandra asked weakly, her world slowly coming into focus. She pulled a tissue from her purse to wipe her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

Mauve took a step toward her and then another. When he saw she didn’t back away, he drew closer still until he was almost right up to her. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly. “Cassandra, tell me the truth. Why are you here?”

“I came to say Happy Valentine’s Day.” She smiled feebly. “And bring you some flowers.”

“But we’re no longer going out.”

“I was hoping to fix that part.”

Mauve pursed his lips. “It’s uncanny you showed up when you did. I was just telling my sister about you. About how I wished…”

“You were? I mean, you do?” It was her turn to close the distance between them and she did. “Mauve,” she said seriously, “I have something to tell you. I got
Tempo Beat
to retract the story.”

“You what?”

“I talked to the senior editor,” she explained, gathering her nerve, “and told her I could no longer stand by it…given that some of my journalistic tactics were ‘questionable.’”

Mauve sucked in some air and for a moment he looked like a guppy. “You mean, you admitted to breaking in?”

“Heavens no, Mauve! Do I look like I want to go to jail? Do you realize what people have to wear in there? They aren’t even allowed accessories!” She showcased her pretty yellow leather bag to emphasize that point. “What I said was…” She brought her face to his and whispered, “…that I could no longer stand by the evidence; it was tainted. I also might have hinted that I made a few things up.”

“You didn’t! But why?”

Cassandra’s lips took a downward turn. “Nothing was the same after you left. I no longer had a partner in crime.” When she saw him scrutinizing her, she promptly added, “Not that I want a life of crime any longer. Frankly, I’m done with it. Except for in my imagination.” Cassandra’s face brightened. “Mauve, I wrote a story and it got accepted!”

“Marvelous! Where?”

“
Mystery Writers Magazine
. I know it’s not much, but it’s a start.”

Mauve was apparently studying her with new eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “I’m very proud of you, Cassandra. I never dreamed you’d make these changes.”

“I no longer want to be that other person,” she said. “The one you slammed the door on.”

“What kind of person do you want to be?”

She stared at him with love in her eyes and hope in her heart. “The kind of girl you’d take out to dinner?”

Hunter didn’t know how it had turned into February. Somehow the holidays had whizzed by in a blur because his attention had been focused on becoming re-employed. Okay, so the job hunt had consumed
most
of his focus. It had taken every ounce of fortitude Hunter had not to let himself think of Jill and the callous way she’d dismissed him at the end. If she’d only given him any indication…any sign of hope, he might have made a plea for a new beginning. Instead, she’d viewed him coolly and with apparent disdain. Naturally, she couldn’t love a man like him. Not when the chips were down and all odds were against him. For a time, Hunter had believed Jill to be a different sort of woman: the kind with a caring heart. Obviously, he’d misjudged her. What was worse, he’d misjudged himself. For a fleeting instant, Hunter had actually believed himself to be falling in love.

Hunter picked up the TV remote and clicked off the television. Trying to find something to watch tonight was a bad idea. It was Valentine’s Day and there was nothing on but sappy shows about
happily ever after
, with last-minute reminders from floral companies to “reward your Valentine.” Right. Hunter could only imagine how Jill might have reacted if he’d dared to send her flowers. She likely would have tossed the bouquet back in his face, just as she’d done years ago with that prom corsage. If Hunter hadn’t learned in high school that Jill wasn’t the girl for him, he was definitely convinced of that now.
 

Hunter glanced around his empty apartment, the truth hitting hard. This place was depressing and lonely, and Hunter hated his life without her. But he had to put Jill behind him and find a way to move forward. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d left, so there was clearly nothing left to talk about. Not the future or the past, including their ridiculously made-up marriage. The fact was, Hunter was far better off without Jill and he knew it.

Hunter tried to think of other things, but memories of his life with Jill consumed him. From the first moment he’d seen her again at the club to that last heartbreaking good-bye in the snow, Hunter had never known a finer woman. Nor one as compelling, or as demanding of his heart. Hunter hung his head, combating the raw ache that burned through him. If he was so much better off without Jill, then why did losing her have to hurt so much?

Jill turned off her television set, thinking the shows weren’t even worth watching on such a small screen. Even though she’d hated Hunter’s TV at first, over time she’d come to appreciate its value. The romantic comedies she loved seemed so much brighter when presented in HDTV. It was almost like being in a movie theater. Of course, what she’d liked best was having Hunter beside her, whether or not they were eating popcorn.
 

Jill reached out a hand to stroke Mimi, who snoozed by her on the sofa. Fifi had curled up in a contented heap at her feet. But while they appeared peaceful now, both animals were often fretful during the day. It was like they were anticipating Hunter’s return at any minute. Jill realized with a sense of absurdity that so was she.

Jill didn’t know how she could dare to imagine that Hunter might really love her. Hadn’t his emotions been written clearly enough in his eyes the day he’d left? If Hunter could leave her that easily, he must not have had faith in the relationship they’d shared. Perhaps the entire marriage
had been
a fake, no matter how much Jill’s silly heart had wished to make it real. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, but still was grateful for the things she had. Jill had been allowed to keep the advance money from Browning, and her grandpa’s future was secure. Not only that, Morgan and Owen had helped place her new book and it was going to press any day. Jill’s career would soon be back on track. On the other hand, Jill wasn’t as sure about her heart.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The following week, Max led Hunter into his office and shut the door behind them. Max sat at his desk and motioned for Hunter to have a seat as well. When Hunter spied the latest issue of
Tempo Beat
in front of him, he almost got up and left again. Max’s secretary hadn’t told Hunter why Max had arranged this meeting, but if it was to further lambast Hunter over failings from his past, Hunter wanted no part of it. He’d spent these past two months submitting his résumé and interviewing for jobs. Not everyone on the planet had heard of
Tempo Beat
, and there were other firms out there interested in Hunter’s credentials. “Thank you for coming in today,” Max said. Was it Hunter’s imagination or did Max appear conciliatory? “I wasn’t even sure if you’d return my secretary’s call.”

Hunter cut to the chase. “What’s this about?”

Max tapped a pen against his desk blotter. After a while it began to sound like a metronome, and Hunter questioned whether Max even planned to speak at all. Finally, he said, “I’ll be the first to admit that humans make mistakes. I myself am not infallible.” He latched on to Hunter’s gaze. “Like when I judged you so harshly, without getting all the facts.”

“Mr. Abrams, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But the truth is, that’s water over the dam.”

“Is it?” Max leaned forward on his elbows. “Because from what I hear, you’ve not taken another position.”

“The market is tight, but I’m looking. And making progress.” Hunter started to stand. “Thanks for your time, but—”

“Hunter, wait.” Max flagged both palms in his direction. “Just listen to what I have to say.”

Hunter settled back in his chair, not knowing what to expect.
 

“The people at Kaleidoscope Kids have been asking about you. They don’t like the new man on the account. He and they aren’t meshing. Your work was fresh. They say it had joy in it, and that ‘joy’ sold product.”

Hunter felt about as joyful now as a boy who’d lost his best friend, because that’s exactly what had happened to him. He’d lost his best
wife
friend, Jill, and in so many ways little else mattered. But Hunter knew he had to keep going and start over somehow.

“I’m sorry I didn’t read between the lines of that first article in
Tempo Beat
, because now that it’s been retracted—”

“Retracted?” Hunter asked, surprised.

“Didn’t you know? That gossip columnist, Cassandra what’s-her-name—?”

“Evans.”

“That’s the one. She apparently made most of the article up.”

What?

“They canned her at
Tempo Beat
,” Max continued. “And now she’s gone on to do other things.” He waved a hand in the air. “Make trouble elsewhere, I suppose.”

“But, sir, the truth is—”

“You know what I’ve decided?” Max asked, interrupting him. “If there’s more to the truth, I don’t want to hear it. Your personal life is yours to deal with, and I’m sorry that got messy for you. I really am. Because I liked Jill. I liked her a lot. I’ve got a hunch that you did too. But the bottom line is… We need to keep what we do here separate. I feel responsible, in part, for the pressure you put yourself under. When Kaleidoscope set their terms, I should have stood up for the company and said that’s not the way we do business. We put our best people forward and stand by them. That’s what our company ethics should have been, and it’s what I intend to make them from here on out.” Max met Hunter’s eyes. “Son, I’m offering you your job back. If you’ll accept this old man’s failings and his apology, I’d love to have you on my team. As a full partner,” he added.

Hunter carefully weighed his words before speaking. This was an enormous opportunity and one he’d never dreamed of. Yet Max had treated him so shabbily in front of everyone who worked here. How could Hunter fathom returning? “This is very sudden, Max. After everything that happened, and the way I was made to look before the staff…”

“I’ve spoken to the staff, Hunter. All of them. I called an office meeting when the new story broke. I publicly admitted what I just said privately to you, that I’d behaved rashly and apparently without cause. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I certainly told the entire company, and if you want to know the truth everyone was delighted by the possibility of your coming back.”

“Everyone, sir?”

Max’s deep laugh rumbled. “Well, all right. Fred might have looked a little sour about it. Your reinstatement would mean his getting demoted, after all. Though, confidentially, he really wasn’t up to the job. Fred’s previous position was a far better fit for him, and one he seemed able to handle. I think somewhere deep down he knows that. He was a nervous wreck working directly with me. Spent more than half of his time in the bathroom.”

Hunter shook his head, deciding not to tell Abrams that Fred had spent more than half of his time in the bathroom while working in his previous position too. It was then that Hunter realized perhaps Max hadn’t been the only one to judge people harshly. Maybe Hunter should have given Fred the benefit of the doubt as well. Fred likely wasn’t a bad person, just someone who was very insecure. When Hunter was in a supervisory position, he should have noticed Fred was struggling and reached out to him. Instead, Hunter had been self-absorbed, and busy gloating over capturing Fred’s coveted prize. Talk about pride going before the fall, Hunter thought soberly. “Poor Fred.”