Nothing Like Love (5 page)

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Authors: Abigail Strom

BOOK: Nothing Like Love
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“Dearest Zach. Darling Zach. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Isabelle. Always.”

Simone was glad when the toasts began. All she wanted to do was bask in the feeling that clung to her very skin even after Zach left to take his phone call, and she had no interest in making small talk.

The toasts were well under way by the time Zach returned. He sat down, gave her a quick smile, and then turned his chair to face the father of the groom, who was in the middle of an anecdote that Simone hadn’t really been listening to.

Now that Zach was sitting beside her again, there wasn’t much chance she’d hear the rest of it, either. He was between her and Tom’s father, which meant she could stare at the back of his head for the rest of the speech.

By the time Mr. Shelburne had ceded the floor to Jessica’s sister, Simone had memorized the line of Zach’s neck and the way his broad shoulders filled out that perfectly tailored suit.

He was quietly attentive to each speaker, but Simone noticed that his left hand, resting on the table beside him, told a different story. Every so often his fingers moved, tapping against his wineglass or curling into a fist.

She remembered the energy that had crackled between them during their Shakespearean rap battle. She remembered the look in his eyes afterward, when he asked what she smelled like under her dress. She was in a bit of a dating slump these days—nobody had tempted her past the flirting stage in a while—but she could still read masculine expressions and body language. As floored as she was by the idea that Zach Hammond was attracted to her, she didn’t doubt what his look had meant.

At least, not until dinner was over and the two of them were outside the restaurant.

The air had turned deliciously cool. The breeze felt wonderful against her cheeks, which were warm from alcohol and anticipation.

She and Zach were waiting together in the taxi line. She was going to ask him if he wanted to share a cab with her. Since her place was all the way downtown, that question alone would convey her intentions.

Zach looked a little remote, but then he often did. Not in rehearsals, where he was passionate and intense, but in his personal interactions.

Tonight, though, she’d have a chance to see a different side of him. What would it be like to watch that detachment transform into something else?

They were at the front of the line now. When the next taxi pulled up, Zach opened the door for her and she got in.

Then she went for it. “Do you want to—”

He shut the door and leaned down to talk through the open window.

“Have a good night, Simone. I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding.”

She stared at him. “At the wedding. Right. Unless . . . do you want to come with me? To see my paintings,” she added quickly.

Good God. Her
paintings
?

In spite of her recent dry spell, Simone liked to think of herself as a woman with game. Moves. At the very least, a basic level of competence in her dealings with the opposite sex.

Now, apparently, she was reduced to asking guys to come upstairs and see her etchings.

“I’ll take a rain check, if that’s all right,” Zach said. “But I hope you’ll save me a dance at the reception tomorrow.”

“Where to?” the driver asked impatiently as Zach straightened up and backed away from the curb.

She gave her address automatically. As the cab pulled away, she turned to stare at Zach through the back window.

What. The. Hell?

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

A
re you seriously telling me you didn’t hook up with Zach last night?”

Kate’s eyes were incredulous as they met Simone’s in the mirror. The two of them were in the Ritz-Carlton suite that Jessica had reserved for her bridal party, and they had an hour left to get ready before they left for the church.

The other bridesmaids, already done with hair and makeup, had given up the vanity table to Kate and Simone. Simone was braiding tea roses into Kate’s hair per Jessica’s instructions.

“That’s what I’m telling you. For a moment there I thought he was interested, but apparently I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong. Are you kidding? The sparks between you almost set the tablecloth on fire. I’ve never seen a man look at a woman with that much carnal intent. He was ready to throw you over his shoulder, and you looked like a woman who was down with that plan. What happened?”

Simone shrugged with as much unconcern as she could muster, but the truth was, she was as confused as Kate.

“It must have been the phone call,” Kate decided. “Things changed after that, right? Maybe it was an old girlfriend.”

“He’s been single for a while if you believe the tabloids, but of course they don’t know everything.”

Kate was off and running now. “Maybe she’s pregnant. Ooh, what if that’s it! Let’s say they just broke up. So he’s here in New York, and totally attracted to you, and he wants to take the next step. Then she calls and tells him she’s pregnant. And while he will always feel a hint of regret whenever he thinks about you, his sense of honor and duty comes first. Also he really does care about the ex-girlfriend. At least I hope he does, because otherwise this storyline is really depressing.”

Simone put the last rose in Kate’s hair. “What’s even more depressing is the fact that I totally choked last night. I mean, I may not be good at much, but I do know how to flirt. Right?”

Kate grinned at her in the mirror. “Yep. I’ve seen you in action, and you are good.”

“Well, you should have heard me last night. I was a total amateur. Not to mention the fact that I started out by literally throwing myself at him. What if I’ve lost my mojo?”

Kate got up and gestured for Simone to take her place. “Okay, your turn.”

Simone sat down obediently and Kate picked up the pencil-thin curling iron she’d brought with her.

“A couple things,” Kate said as she went to work, curling Simone’s short black hair lock by lock. “First of all, you only lose your flirting mojo when you really like someone. I mean, isn’t that a thing? To spaz out when you’re actually into the person?”

Simone frowned. “I guess it could be a thing, but it doesn’t happen to me.”

“Exactly! You don’t normally get serious about guys. But you really like Zach, don’t you? So this is different.”

Simone watched her cheeks turn pink and hoped that Kate, if she noticed, would put it down to the proximity of the curling iron.

“I don’t like Zach. Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, he’s got a girlfriend.”

“What do you mean, he’s got a girlfriend? We just made that up. We don’t know if it’s actually true.”

“How else do you explain last night? First he’s into me, then the phone call, then he’s not into me? Unless you think it’s my sudden lack of mojo.”

“You haven’t lost your mojo. Your mojo is fine.” Kate shrugged. “It could be anything. Maybe his grandmother died. Maybe he found out he lost all his money in a pyramid scheme. Maybe someone posted naked pictures of him on the Internet.”

“God, I hope it’s that last one.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right. We don’t know what happened with Zach last night, and there’s no reason to believe my mojo is gone for good.”

“And you have a crush on Zach.”

“I—” She started to deny it, took a deep breath, and continued. “Fine, yes, I have a crush on Zach. Which only validates one of my major theories about life. Being into a person you’re attracted to only screws things up. It brings out every single insecurity you ever had and turns you into a pathetic idiot. No offense,” she added, remembering that Kate herself was madly in love at the moment.

“Hey, none taken. I totally agree with you. But there are some people it’s worth being an idiot for. You know?”

“No, I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, no man is worth being an idiot for.”

“Jason Bourne.”

“No.”

“Thor.”

“No.”

“Zach Hammond?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kate started to say something else, but the door to the hotel room swung open and Jessica came in.

“All right, ladies, how are we doing?”

She was in full bridal regalia, and she looked like a queen.

Her dress was beautiful. The full skirt was frothy and ornate—layers of honeycomb tulle overlaid by handmade Chantilly lace—with a simple, strapless bodice accented by a side-swept gather at the waist.

Her silky blonde hair was loose, held off her face by a jeweled diadem to which a gauzy, waist-length veil had been attached. Her only other accessories were a pair of diamond drop earrings and opera-length gloves.

The bridesmaids all spoke at once.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re gorgeous.”

“You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Where’s the photographer? We should take some before-the-ceremony shots.”

Jessica smile was a little stiff. “I told the photographer to meet us at the church. He took a lot of getting-ready pictures with my mom and me, and I got tired of it. Not every second of the day has to be documented.”

That was strange. Kate or Simone might have voiced a sentiment like that, but it was odd coming from Jessica, who could easily have been voted Most Likely to Document Every Second of Her Wedding Day.

Jessica’s sister, Vicki, who was also her maid of honor, stepped forward and took Jessica’s hand. “We’re almost ready, too. We’re just putting on the finishing touches. What do you think?”

Jessica surveyed the seven women with a critical eye. “Not bad,” she said after a moment. “Not bad at all.” She smiled again, more naturally this time. “Actually, you all look beautiful. I almost wish the photographer were here after all.”

“I’ve got you covered,” her friend Maria said, pulling her phone from her purse. “It’s time for some bridal party selfies.”

A little while later the bridesmaids pulled up in front of the church, spilling out of their limo in cheerful confusion as they mingled with late-arriving guests. Simone bumped into someone and dropped her bouquet, and when she reached down to pick it up, someone bumped into her. She would have fallen if a strong hand hadn’t grabbed her by the arm.

A moment later she was blinking up at Zach Hammond. He looked even better than he had last night, and she suspected that his suit had cost more than her bridesmaid dress.

He held out her bouquet. “Here you are.”

Their hands brushed when she took it, and she took a deep breath. She couldn’t let him know that his behavior last night had left her feeling confused.

“Thank you, Lord Zachary.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “Lord Zachary?”

She gestured at his suit. “Savile Row, I presume? You look like you’re dressed for an audience with the queen.”

He grinned at her. “A gentleman should meet certain sartorial standards when attending a wedding. Especially when one of the bridesmaids looks like you.”

As his blue eyes moved over her in obvious appreciation, Simone felt a rush of annoyance. Did he think he could pick up where he’d left off before he’d turned her down last night?

He stepped in a little closer. “Simone—”

“Enjoy the wedding, my lord.”

She gave him a quick smile and then hurried up the stairs into the church.

The organist was playing Bach, and they could hear the music in the private room where they were waiting for the ceremony to begin. Jessica’s mother was bustling around, adjusting things that didn’t need to be adjusted, and telling her daughter, “Just keep breathing, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”

Heather, the only one of the bridesmaids who was married, squeezed Jessica’s hand. “I was a nervous wreck before my wedding. I remember shaking like a leaf and being terrified I’d trip or drop my bouquet, but of course it wasn’t really about that. It’s the getting married part that freaks a person out. Even when you’re marrying the man of your dreams, it’s still pretty scary.”

Jessica gave Heather the same mechanical smile she’d given her mother, but as Simone watched her fingers twisting the ribbons in her bouquet, it occurred to her that Jessica wasn’t actually nervous. Whatever emotion she was feeling, it wasn’t that.

A sudden impulse made her cross the room and put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Jess—can I talk to you for a sec?”

Jessica looked at her in surprise. “Now?”

“It won’t take long.”

“Well . . . all right.”

Simone led her far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“You probably already know this, but Tom’s a great guy. He’s smart and sweet and funny, and I think it’s wonderful that you’re going to marry him.” She gripped Jessica’s arm. “But hypothetically speaking . . . if there’s anything making you unhappy, any reason you don’t want to get married . . . well, then, we can get the hell out of here. We can hit the ATM and take a cab to Florida. We can hop a freight train and ride the rails to California. Whatever you need.”

Jessica didn’t say anything for a moment or two. When she did speak, her voice shook a little. “Wouldn’t that be a nice story for page six. I can see the headline now: Park Avenue Princess Turns Runaway Bride.”

“So what if they say that? Who gives a damn? This is your life, Jessica. That’s all that matters.”

Jessica stared at her, and for one crazy minute Simone thought she was going to say yes. Then she shook her head slowly. “I can’t. I can’t. I . . .” She shook her head again. “Tom and I have been friends forever. I do love him, even if it’s not . . .” She stopped. “I love him,” she said again. “And I feel safe with him. I—”

The door to the waiting room opened and one of the ushers stuck his head in. “They’re ready for you, ladies.”

There was last-minute primping and excited whispers as the bridal party headed for the door. Simone started to join them, but Jessica grabbed her hand first.

“I want you to know I won’t forget this. I mean . . . that was a really nice offer.”

“I offered to help you ditch your own wedding,” Simone reminded her.

Jessica smiled crookedly. “I know. I just . . . thank you. You’re a good friend.”

Simone gave her a careful hug, avoiding her hair, makeup, and dress. “You’re a good friend, too. And Tom’s a great guy.”

Jessica took a deep breath. “He is, isn’t he? And I do love him.”

“All right, then. Let’s get you married.”

The first sign that something was about to go very, very wrong came while the priest was saying something about honorable estates. Simone’s attention was drifting, and from her vantage point near the altar she scanned the wedding guests surreptitiously to see if she could spot Zach in the crowd.

She didn’t see him, but she did see someone else.

The guy who’d shown up at the rehearsal dinner last night was standing in the back of the church, staring down the aisle at the bride and groom.

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