Authors: Miranda Liasson
Tags: #Enemies to lovers, #army, #Kingston Family, #tortured hero, #military, #Romance, #Entangled, #Miranda Liasson, #contemporary, #Indulgence, #vet, #playboy reformed, #forced proximity, #best friend’s sister, #contemporary romance
Chapter Eleven
Cat showered and dressed in a sleeveless blouse, ankle pants, and cute sandals. She put on a pair of silver dangly earrings and straightened her hair. She had no idea how she was going to tolerate pretending to show Preston affection in front of her family, but she was not going to let him—or anyone—know how upset she was. She could cry into her pillow later, but for now, she was going to act like the happiest woman in the world if that’s what it took to keep the peace in the final days before Maddie’s wedding.
All she had to do was survive this dinner and tomorrow’s planned afternoon at the lake before Saturday’s wedding. Then they would all disband, and she’d only have to see him at occasional family events, probably involving Maddie and Nick’s or Derrick and his wife Jenna’s kids. Even thinking of seeing him in the future, with other women, or one day with someone he loved, a wife and children, sent sword slashes into her heart.
Cat met her mother in the kitchen as she was preparing marinade for chicken shish kebabs. Liz sat at the island, chopping vegetables. She looked really pretty, wearing a black sleeveless dress with gold hoops that looked elegant against her straight shoulder-length black hair. Grandmeel sat, too, slicing fruit for fruit salad.
“Where’s Samuel tonight?” Cat asked her. Grandmeel was dating her long-lost love, Nick’s grandpa, who worked doing shoe design at the company with Maddie, and it had done wonders in taking a bit of the edge off her personality. She wished for that reason he could be here with them tonight. Left to her own devices, God only knew what Grandmeel would say.
“He had to meet with a client, so he stayed behind so Maddie could come,” Amelia said. “He may show up later.”
“Oh, hello, Cat.” Her mom whizzed by and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she pulled a bowl of marinated chicken out of the fridge. “Could you help me skewer these kebabs? I want to have them all ready to go on the grill.”
Cat washed her hands. As she sat down next to Liz at a stool around the large island, she gave her a little nudge in the ribs. “With all the wedding commotion, I’ve barely talked to you lately.” Not for the first time, she wondered how her sister was handling Maddie’s newfound happiness. She was sure Liz was happy for Maddie, like they all were, but going through all the wedding preparations had to remind her of her own wedding three years ago and her crushing divorce after just a year.
“The news of the day,” Grandmeel said, “is that Maddie doesn’t care to wear my beautiful veil. Catherine, perhaps you’ll wear it one day.”
Uh-oh. She focused on skewering tomatoes and peppers and chicken onto the kebab sticks. “Um, maybe, Grandmeel. But don’t count on that anytime soon. I mean, after last year and all…” She felt a sudden solidarity with her oldest sister. With her failed engagement and Liz’s failed marriage, they had reason to team together to avoid The Veil.
“Don’t remind us, dear,” Grandmeel said. “Lord, it kills me to think of all that fine crystal and china we had to return.” Grandmeel paused in her slicing long enough to emit a heavy sigh. “Perhaps it was for the better. I never liked the mathematician.”
“An actuary,” Liz said. “He calculated insurance risks.”
“Lord have mercy, that makes me yawn just thinking about what the hell kind of job that possibly could be.”
“Don’t worry, Grandmeel,” Liz said, tossing an evil big-sister wink at Cat. “Preston Guthrie’s back in town helping Dad find a new CEO. He and Cat have rekindled their romance. He’s a nice guy with a great job, right?”
Cat shot her sister a look, but Liz just quirked a corner of her mouth. Now was not the time to put her in a spot with Grandmeel, as Liz was so fond of doing.
Grandmeel set down her knife and addressed Cat. “About Preston Guthrie. I want to see you happy with a good man who treats you like a queen and who hails from good stock. Is that so much to ask? How can a man from his sordid background possibly know how to treat a woman or be a good husband? Honestly, Catherine, you must see how something like that could never work.”
Oh, this was too much. Her emotions were too ragged and raw. She was going to start bawling again for sure. She grabbed the onions from Liz and started chopping just in case.
Cat’s mom spoke. “Your dad and I were excited to hear that you and Preston have mended your fences. Weddings do that. They bring people together.” It was getting really hard to focus when lies were building upon lies, and guilt was creeping in. “Besides, I like Preston,” her mother continued. “He’s a high-quality man, always has been. He’s a West Point grad, a successful businessman, and a war hero, Amelia. Not to mention a nice guy. I don’t hold his background against him at all.”
“You can’t change people,” Grandmeel said. “They can’t overcome their backgrounds. If you’re raised in an atmosphere of abuse, you abuse, if for no other reason than you don’t know any differently.”
“That’s not true,” Cat said in a soft voice. “Some people would do anything to overcome their backgrounds.” She wondered if that included pushing away people they cared about.
Cat bit her lip to avoid saying any more. She had to give her family some warning that it was over between them. “There’s no need to worry. We’re—taking it slow. He’s not the type to settle down.”
“That’s what everyone said about your father, too,” Cat’s mom said.
The knife slipped, and Cat almost cut herself. Liz took it away from her and pushed the bowl of chicken closer so she could go back to skewering the kebabs. “Dad was a—a
womanizer
?”
Her father, a tall man with gray hair who wore an apron his employees got him that said, “My barbecue will knock your shoes off,” walked into the kitchen. He looked a hundred times better than he did last summer, when he was recovering from a stroke. Even had a tan from the few rounds of golf he played each Wednesday. He kissed her mom on the cheek. “There’s only one woman for me.”
“Don’t avoid the question, Dad,” Liz said. “You dated around a lot before you met Mom?”
He shrugged. “I was confused. Your mother set me straight.”
“He means I threatened him,” she said.
“When necessary, that’s what true love does.” Her dad winked at his daughters and went back out the door with the chicken to man his grill.
“So, about that veil,” Liz said, at last finally steering the conversation away from the topic of Preston. “I’d love to wear it someday, if you’ll let me, Grandmeel.” She winked at Cat and whispered, “Problem solved. Because the day I marry again will be the day Buckleberry Bend gets a McDonald’s.”
Cat smiled. That would likely be a while. Every year since the fifties, the city council had staunchly voted against having any fast-food establishments in town.
“Finally,” Grandmeel said. “One of my granddaughters is showing some sense.”
Cat’s mom, who never missed much of anything, came to stand behind her daughters. “Life has a way of surprising us, my dears. You never know what can happen. Maybe in a year, both of you will be fighting over wearing that veil.”
Cat waited for Grandmeel to say something about Liz being divorced or not having any current prospects for a husband, but she didn’t. She also didn’t take the opportunity to complain more about Cat’s failed engagement. She’d even said Robert was boring. Cat knew the subtle changes were the result of Samuel’s influence. Lately, Grandmeel was happier than she’d ever seen her. Not that she’d had a complete personality transplant, but there were definite improvements.
So maybe Grandmeel had just disproved her own theory. Maybe people could change after all.
Cat happened to be coming down the stairs after fetching Grandmeel’s eyeglasses when Nick and Maddie walked through the front door with Preston.
“Hi, sis,” Maddie said, giving Cat a hug. “How’s your headache?”
“My headache?” She didn’t have one now, not that she didn’t rule out getting one any moment during a long evening pretending to like Preston in front of her entire family.
“Yeah, Preston said Brady gave you a ride home because your head was throbbing so bad you couldn’t drive.”
“Oh, that headache. Gone.” She waved her hand in the air. “Thanks to the miracle of Advil.”
“We brought your car back. Here are your keys.”
“Thanks for doing that,” she said as she set them down on the hall table.
Preston walked forward to greet her. “Hi, honey,” he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “And here’s your purse that you, um, forgot.”
She took the purse and said, “Hi to you, too,” with a big, fake smile that really was giving her a headache.
Nick greeted her warmly with a hug. “Hey, sis.” He slapped Preston playfully on the back. “Who’d have thought you’d be the one to break through to this guy?”
“She’s the only woman for me.” Preston forced another smile and wrapped an arm around Cat, who tried not to feel as stiff as a paper doll.
Fortunately, Preston and Nick began talking business and were soon deep in conversation. “Let me get you that business card,” Preston said, pulling out his wallet.
His wallet
. Cat’s heart suddenly knocked hard against her rib cage as she remembered Lacey’s words.
If you don’t believe me, check his wallet
. What could a wallet possibly tell her about Preston that she didn’t already know? There went her flair for the dramatic, acting up again. The bottom line was he still wanted to call it quits. She just had to focus on surviving this dinner and the wedding festivities this weekend until this nightmare was over.
They all gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, Brady and Derrick and Jenna joining the rest of them. Dad poured everyone prosecco in honor of Maddie and Nick’s big upcoming weekend. Cat was grateful for something else to focus on to dull the sting of her hurt and her general state of pissed-offedness at Preston, who sat next to her but seemed to act as awkwardly as she—not touching her and speaking to her as little as possible.
“I love weddings,” her mother said on a sigh. Rosalyn Kingston was a crier, worse than Cat, so Cat braced herself for the speech she could see coming. Her mom raised her glass of prosecco while Henry beamed at her side. “We’re so proud of you, Maddie and Nick, and are so looking forward to your wedding weekend. Also, your wedding has helped Cat and Preston come together. Preston, it’s so wonderful to see you again. I’m glad you and Cat worked out your differences. And Henry’s been so grateful for your help in the CEO search.”
Preston raised his glass. “It’s been a pleasure to help out, ma’am. We’ve had some great candidates.”
Rosalyn raised her glass in the direction of her oldest daughter. “Liz, we’re so happy to have you back with us from Africa, and so glad you’ve decided to stay in town to practice. Love you too, honey.” She turned to Derrick and Jenna. “Last but not least, we are so looking forward to the new addition to our family in just a few short months.”
Derrick took up his wife’s hand and kissed it, and she beamed at him. Everyone raised their glasses and drank to the toast, Cat draining her prosecco like there was a fire nearby. She loved her family, was happy for everyone, but she wanted to be here tonight about as much as she loved black-eyed peas.
“Catherine’s got a degree in journalism,” Grandmeel told Brady in front of everyone. “Worked for the
Philadelphia Inquirer
until recently. She just interviewed for a position at the
Charlotte Herald
. My father and grandfather were both newspapermen. The talent runs in the family. As I always say, Kingstons were born to educate the world.”
“About that,” Cat said, cutting off her grandmother at the pass. “I-I’m thinking of switching my occupation. Becoming a teacher.” Wow, she’d finally come out and said it. She’d never put it into words before, but…yeah. There it was. The truth.
“Lord, child, that prosecco’s gone straight to your head,” Grandmeel said. “Teaching is the lowest-paid profession anywhere.”
“I’ve been substituting this week for the kindergarten class at Buckleberry Elementary. It’s a real challenge.”
“Honestly, Catherine,” Grandmeel said, “changing your mind about marriage, changing your career…you’re coming across as very indecisive. All this mind-changing is getting expensive.”
Cat turned red, embarrassed to be scolded in front of the family. Just when she opened her mouth to muster a reply, Preston spoke. “People are entitled to change their minds, Amelia. Sometimes it’s a matter of finding out what you don’t like. Whatever Cat decides, I know she’ll throw her entire heart into it like she always does.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Grandmeel said. “You’re not paying for more education.”
“I wouldn’t expect anyone to pay for my education,” Cat said. “I’d do it myself.”
“We’ll support Cat in whatever she decides,” her dad said.
“Well, she’d better hurry up,” Grandmeel said. “She’s not getting any younger.” Liz shifted uncomfortably in her seat, undoubtedly taking Grandmeel’s comment as an insult to herself as well. Cat looked at her mother, who rolled her eyes and subtly poured the half glass that was left of her dad’s prosecco into her own glass.
Preston must have been in the mood to spar, because he said, “The Kingston women are like fine wine, Amelia. They only improve with age.”
Liz quietly lifted her glass to him from her seat off to the side. But Cat just cleared her throat. “I’m going to get the watermelon,” she said. “Be right back, sugar,” she said, patting Preston on the knee.
“Take your time, sweetness,” he called back.
On impulse, she turned and lifted the nearly full glass of prosecco her mom had just set down on the table and took it for herself.
…
“Preston, another beer?” Brady asked, reaching into the cooler for another bottle.
“No, thanks,” Preston said. “I’m still working on this one.”
“You’re a one-beer kind of guy, huh? Must be a lightweight.”
What, was this guy back in college, competing for how many beers he could slug down in one night? He clearly never had to handle a belligerent, out-of-his-mind drunk father who was about to beat the shit out of his mother and force him to go to bed. And if the guy told one more lacrosse story from his time at Duke, Preston was going to hurl.