Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (11 page)

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.

“I did it to stretch my wings. To prove I can take on new challenges. Who knows? This might lead to a whole new angle to my business, especially if I can win the
American Home Design
contest.”

“That’s not the reason.”

The voice startled Delaney. She looked over and saw Skylar perched on her vanity and realized she must have fallen asleep.

“What do you want?” She sighed.

“Dropped by to get the goods on the hottie you spent the afternoon with, and here I find you talking to yourself.” Skylar tsk-tsked. “Keep that up, and people are going to start thinking you’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. I see dead people in my dreams.”

“You don’t see dead people. You only see me.”

“You’re dead.”

“Yeah, but I’m not people. I’m a person. Singular. You see a dead person in your dreams.”

“So that means I’m not crazy?”

“Please, you were raised by Honey Montgomery Cartwright. Of course you’re crazy on some level.”

“Touché.”

“Wanna know why I think you took the Vinetti job?” Skylar grinned. “Hey, I like the sound of that. Vinetti job. Like you’re in with the mob.”

Delaney sighed again and pulled the covers to her chin. “I’d say no, but you’d just tell me anyway, so go ahead.”

“You’re hot for her hard-bodied grandson.”

“That’s not it. You are so far off base.” Delaney laughed but it sounded hollow, forced.

“You want to prove yourself to him. He thinks you’re a spoiled rich Cartwright, and you want to show him he’s wrong.”

Now that was probably the real truth. Delaney didn’t have a comeback.

“Personally, I think taking the job was a great move. I mean, did you check out his butt? Makes a girl feel faint just looking at it.” Skylar fanned herself.

“You’re a ghost; haven’t you gotten past physical lust?”

“Hey, indulge me. I never got to have sex when I was alive.”

“Really? That’s sad.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, just let me live vicariously through you a little.” Today Skylar was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and a blue-jean miniskirt and fisherman’s wading boots.

“What’s with the boots?”

“Borrowed ’em from Granddad. He said to say ‘hi,’ by the way.”

“Tell him ‘hi’ back.”

“Will do.”

“What do you need wading boots for in whatever place it is where ghosts hang out?” she asked.

“You keep getting this all wrong, Laney. I’m not really a ghost. You’re dreaming me up. Whatever I wear, you’re the one who dressed me in it. For whatever weird reasons are churning around in that disturbed brain of yours.”

“So I can change you out of wading boots?”

“Sure. Give it a try.”

Delaney imagined Skylar in glass slippers, and darned if the wading boots didn’t fade away and glass slippers take their place.

“Cinderella, cool.” Skylar stuck her legs out in front of her to admire the shoes. “Now all I need is a Prince Charming.”

“Okay, this is officially freaky.”

“No, it’s not. There’s nothing more natural than dreaming. So anyway, back to the hottie. He’s so much cuter than Evan.”

“Evan’s cute,” Delaney said defensively.

“Please, Evan looks like he’s been popped from a cookie-cutter mold. Handsome rich doctor from central casting, anyone? Come on, wouldn’t you rather have a real man like that delicious Nick Vinetti?” Skylar licked her lips.

“You’re not being fair to Evan.”

“Yes, okay, he is a nice guy. But I remember the time when he was twelve and dropped a pocketful of change on the ground so he could get a good look up my skirt.”

“Evan’s not like that.”

“Maybe not now, but he was back then. Believe me, I was there.”

“How can I trust that tidbit of information if, as you claim, everything you say is something I’m making up in my head?”

“Good question.” Skylar propped her chin in her palm. “Keep it in mind whenever you’re talking to me.”

“You’re messing with my head.”

“No, you’re messing with your own head.”

“Maybe you should just go away.”

“Maybe you should just wake up.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Fine with me.”

Delaney flopped over onto her side, refusing to look at Skylar anymore.

“You’re not waking up.”

“You don’t know Evan the way I do. You don’t know how he was there for me after you died. He comforted me. Helped me through it. He was my only real friend until I met Tish. He liked me when I was ugly, Sky. Before the surgery and the weight loss and the braces.”

Skylar lay down on the bed next to her, stacked her hands under her cheek, and gazed into Delaney’s eyes. “He’s a compulsive helper, Delaney. He’ll always be where someone needs help, and as soon as they’re emotionally strong enough not to need him anymore, he’ll find someone who does need him.”

“Evan would never cheat on me.”

“I’m not saying he would. I’m just predicting he’ll always be standing you up in favor of his work. Unless you’re in a crisis. Then he’ll be there.”

“He’s a doctor, for Pete’s sake. Surely you get that his patients must come first.”

“My point exactly. You’ll always play second fiddle.”

“It would be pretty petty of me to be jealous of sick people,” she said.

“You say that now, but what about when you have children? He can’t ever make the Little League games or the dance recitals. Your Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas Eves are interrupted by hospital emergencies.”

Delaney had never thought about the long-term repercussions of Evan’s career. Honestly, she’d never even imagined what it would be like to have children with him. That was strange, wasn’t it? She was marrying him, and she’d never pictured having his babies.

“Very strange indeed,” Skylar whispered, reading her mind.

“I’m doing the right thing by marrying Evan,” she said defensively.

“Even though you have zero sexual chemistry together?” Skylar asked.

“Sex is overrated.”

“You only think that because you’ve never had great sex. Or great love.”

“You never had sex at all, so buzz off with that advice.” Delaney glowered.

“Don’t you want to know what great sex is like? Why Tish and Jillian and Rachael talk about it with such passionate enthusiasm?”

“No. I like things just the way they are with Evan. Calm, sweet, tender.”

“And orgasmless.”

“I have orgasms.” Delaney furrowed her brow. “At least I think I do.”

“If you’re not sure, then you probably don’t.”

“Once again, you would know this how?”

“It’s going to be tough, working on Lucia’s house with her gorgeous grandson Nick hanging around, keeping his suspicious eyes on you. And all the while Evan is far away in Guatemala.”

Concern winnowed through her. This was what she’d been worrying about ever since taking the job. Knowing that she’d be around Nick Vinetti every day for the next several weeks.

“I have to back out of the job.”

“No, you don’t. I say explore it to the hilt. Find out if the chemistry you feel with this guy is real or just a passing fancy.”

“What about Evan?”

“What about him? He’s the one who took off for Guatemala just weeks before your wedding.”