One-Off (6 page)

“Watch it, lady. You don’t know Dallas and the Colin I know wouldn’t marry someone to mask an insecurity.”

She gave a single nod and spiked her eyebrows. “Really protective. It’s good to see that extends to my cousin.”

“He’s become a friend, and he’s Dallas’s choice for a life mate. I’m going to support that.” That’s what best friends did—at least, I think they did. Maybe I was supposed to be talking her out of it. No, I’m pretty sure I was supposed to support her decision even if I didn’t believe in marriage. “Since we don’t enjoy spending time together, why don’t you let me take it from here?”

“Because my cousin appointed me to represent him. If I don’t, you might let Booby add tigers in glass cages to the ceremony or something equally ostentatious. You Americans have the weirdest ideas for unique weddings.”

Tigers in glass cages? She’d always had a fascinating imagination. It made listening to her, even when I wanted to choke her, interesting. “Don’t call her that.”

“Because you’ll think of it every time you see her now?” She grinned, an innocent grin, not malicious. It told me she didn’t really think of Dallas as stupid, but she had noticed her rather prominent chest. Not porn star fake boobies big but noticeable on her svelte frame.

“Shut it,” I ordered but grinned back. I knew she was just venting her frustration at being put in this spot by her cousin and my best friend. It wasn’t getting us closer to finishing our task though. I pointed to her paper choices. “Which do you like best?”

Her eyes widened, not expecting me to ask her opinion. “I prefer the linen paper in ivory, but I think Colin will like the grey better.”

I nodded, reaching for the one she recommended. It felt solid and not too frilly.

“What about Dallas?”

“She’d probably like the ivory, too, but she’d be fine with Colin’s choice.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows rose. “She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who gives in.”

“She picks her battles. We all do.” Before she could comment on that, I continued, “What about typeface?”

Her smile flared. “You might not want to give me a choice here.”

“Why?”

“I went through this with my publisher. There are even more options for something like this.” She scanned the pages of typeface with a joy I hadn’t seen since the night she emerged from her room with a completed thesis in her hand. She’d been so happy she even forgot to insult me that night.

“How are you ladies doing?” The woman helping us approached for the fourth time tonight.

“We’ve chosen the paper,” I reported.

“Good. What about the border or ribbon?”

“Do you have plaid?” Ainsley asked her.

Her head turned back to the order desk, a frown pulling at her features. “I’m sure if the ribbon exists, we can get it.”

“We’ll use blue or green bows on his and yellow on hers,” I supplied. “You can choose the paper and the typeface, but Dallas should get one of her colors on her invitations. She’s already had to compromise on the colors.”

Her jaw set but I didn’t care. I was looking at three more weeks of this crap, and I wasn’t going to compromise on everything Dallas wanted. Didn’t Colin know that weddings were mostly for the woman? He should be willing to back down on some of this crap in order to keep Dallas happy. He couldn’t have been planning every detail of this thing since he was twelve like Dallas.

“Lots of couples decide to do that.” The woman must have sensed the tension.

“Yes, of course,” Ainsley agreed. “That will suffice. And I think this one.” Her finger pointed to an elegant script that was readable but not overly decorative.

“Let’s get a sample in that one and what’s your next favorite?” I asked Ainsley.

Her eyes met mine and she almost seemed happy with something I’d done. “This one.”

“Give those both a try on the light grey linen. This is the text.” I handed the woman a piece of paper so she could run off the samples.

Ainsley reached for a copy of the text and read through, frowning at times. “It’s plain.”

“It’s straightforward,” I argued.

“They’re getting married at this church on this date and time and want the pleasure of your company?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

She sat back and studied me. “You really aren’t a romantic, are you?”

“What are you getting at?” I tried not to sound prickly. I didn’t consider myself a person who got goofy over love, but I made an effort for the women I took out.

“Aside from the fact that you never dated in grad school?” Her eyes flickered. “Can’t be easy dating from the closet.”

Smug, know-it-all bitch. Had she been setting me up all night just to deliver that line? “You don’t know anything.” Just because I didn’t wear my sexuality on my sleeve like she had in college didn’t make me closeted. I didn’t even have time to date in grad school, and what did she care anyway?

“You’re not a lesbian? My cousin got that wrong, did he?”

“What does that have to do with being romantic?”

“I’m just wondering why you felt you needed to deny who you were in grad school.”

My head was shaking before I said, “I wasn’t.”

“Had lots of sex with women when I wasn’t at the apartment, did you?” Those flashing eyes were becoming distracting. “The roommates never mentioned that. You must have been really stealthy.”

“I’m not discussing this with you.” Or anyone.

“But you are discussing it, lass.” Her eyebrows rose, daring me to deny it. “You knew I was gay. The roommates never left that alone. Yet you never said anything.”

“What does any of this matter?”

“How about hiding who you were? Not being honest with us or yourself?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was being edged into a corner and didn’t care for that feeling at all. “We didn’t do a lot of sharing back then.”

She looked at me for a long time. Disappointment, intrigue, and bother came through. “Nay, we didn’t.”

That sounded vaguely like she might be regretting that.

Eight

Well after most of the day’s classes should be over, Red Square on the Georgetown campus still looked to be in the middle of a morning class changeover. I fought my way through the stream of students, feeling old but damn glad I wasn’t in school anymore. I wasn’t exactly happy to be here, but it was the easiest on both our schedules.

The idea of working with this woman for another three weeks grated my skin. She still had the ability to wind me up over absolutely nothing. I’d spent so many of my nights at Columbia bickering with her over the stupidest things. Once we even argued about which side dishes went best with lamb. As a Scot, she felt she knew everything there was to know about lamb. I just wanted to needle her but ended up getting as hot about it as she had. I don’t even eat lamb. Absolutely no outcome to the argument would have made a difference in my life, but I hadn’t been able to let it go. The arguing felt like an addiction at times, not just a break from studying or something different to my agreeable and often frivolous college friends.

The ICC building came into view before me. If I timed this right I’d catch her getting ready to leave. Then we could get this florist appointment over with quickly and I could go home to relax for the first time since Dallas dropped the news of the looming deadline.

Not one open seat remained in the packed auditorium. I’d hoped to slip in, gather Ainsley, and get out, but she hadn’t even finished talking. She stood on the stage, a vibrant photo of a castle nestled on rocky hills covered the screen behind her. She was describing a battle that took place at the castle. Everyone was riveted to her narrative.

Her voice carried, her presence commanding. That wild hair of hers was tied back into a billowy ponytail. From my spot it looked practically tame, but one tug on the fastener and it would bunch out to surround her shoulders. The gold wire-rimmed glasses did nothing to take away the breathtaking color of her eyes. She wore a silk blouse that molded to her torso and a pencil skirt that ended two inches above her knees. Below that the most sinful pair of leather boots began, skimming over her calves and down to encase her feet. Delicate buckles cinched the legs tighter, adding texture and tantalizing grips.

Sexy boots. Really? I didn’t think she had it in her. She’d always dressed so conservatively at Columbia. Not that I’d noticed back then. I didn’t notice anything other than my studies until I had those degrees in hand and that internship turned into the job of my dreams. I barely noticed that I didn’t like dating guys until well into grad school.

I leaned against the back wall. My eyes roamed over the students, a mix of ages from late teens to late twenties. I focused on Ainsley. Her fervor was almost palpable. She absolutely loved what she was saying. It made her glow bright and sure as a beacon in the darkened room. The resemblance to her cousin was so evident I didn’t know how I never spotted it before. They had the same angle to their jaws and spacing between their eyes. Her features were more delicate than his chisel, but the family resemblance was there. Seeing how she commanded the room the way Colin took control of every camera shot, they were more like siblings than cousins.

“Thank you, Dr. Baird.” A woman in a knit skirt and peasant top stepped up beside Ainsley. “We’re honored to have you with us tonight. If only we could persuade you to stay.” Her hand beckoned the audience into rousing applause. “Our guest lecture series has reached to the highest status thanks to you.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” Ainsley smiled and gave what looked like a curtsy when the audience broke into applause again. Pink tinged her cheeks, making her appear vulnerable. She’d always been larger than life and a little snide when I knew her. Our two roommates loved her. Even my friends fawned all over her as soon as she opened her mouth and that lilting accent spilled forth. Vulnerable was a rarity for her.

It took a while before the majority of the audience filed out of the auditorium. Ainsley was still being mobbed by a small group. My eyes flicked to my watch. We’d be late if she went any longer.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted to no gain. “Pardon me.” Louder this time. Ainsley’s eyes found mine through the group. They narrowed slightly but went back to professor mode quickly. “I hate to interrupt, but,” I said and pointed to my watch so Ainsley would take the hint.

“Oh?” the other professor asked. “Something we’re keeping you from, Dr. Baird? I’d hoped to pick your brain a little more about ideas for expanding my European history course. And of course, try to convince you to take the guest lecture spot for next semester.”

The twinkle in her eyes set my teeth on edge. Did she honestly think no one would notice she was trying to seduce Ainsley? After a lecture, surrounded by students, and for all she knew, Ainsley’s date for the night. She worked here, didn’t she? A little decorum should be the overriding theme in this setting. My eyes went back to gauge the flirty signals she was tossing Ainsley’s way. Correction: a lot of decorum was warranted.

“We are late, I’m afraid,” Ainsley confirmed. She didn’t look regretful, but she didn’t look eager to leave the woman’s company either.

“Oh, too bad. How long are you in town? Maybe another night?”

Ainsley flashed her a smile. Nothing in it shut down the flirtation. Briefly I wondered if she was doing this for my benefit. To show me that everyone else liked her, some even enough to date her. “Perhaps,” she agreed.

The smile slide from her face as she approached me.
Yeah, same here.
We turned without speaking and headed outside.

“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked as we approached my car.

“Yes.” I bit back the irritation at her intentional baiting. One time I’d gotten the roommates lost when we were walking around New York. One time, and she never let me forget it.

Her head turned and I felt the stare burn a hole in my cheek. “Thanks for coming to collect me.”

My step faltered. Had she just thanked me for something? The last time was when she was sick with the flu and laid out in our apartment. The other roommates purposefully spent three nights at their boyfriends’ places to avoid catching whatever she had. I’d canceled my study groups to keep the flu contained and spent three days making sure she had soup, crackers, ginger ale, and tissues. She’d been so surprised by my caregiving, it earned me a month free of snarky comments. I would have done it for any of our roommates, especially someone so far from home. No one liked being sick. Having someone around to make sure she didn’t die when she felt like dying was the least anyone could do.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t realize you were giving a guest lecture while you’re here.”

“You thought I’d be leeching off my cousin for a few weeks?”

I shook my head in disgust. The moment of civility had passed. “I didn’t know you’d be here at all, but seeing you in the tux shop weeks ahead of the wedding, yeah, I figured you’d be on vacation.”

“When Colin encouraged me to visit, I thought about taking a break, but I’ve been getting requests for guest talks for years. I thought I could combine the pleasure trip with a little business.”

“Do you have more lectures planned?”

She nodded. “Next week at American University and the following at University of Maryland.”

“The material sounded interesting and it was well received.”

“You’re surprised.”

I opened the passenger door for her. “I’m not. I read your thesis, remember?”

She’d been shocked when she saw me reading through the copy she’d left for our roommates to read. They’d skimmed sections, but I read the whole thing. It was scholarly and publishable. She hadn’t gotten angry that I’d read it and even seemed to appreciate that I’d taken the time when our other roommates hadn’t.

“Aye,” she acknowledged when I joined her in the car. “I also remember the red marks you made.”

I cringed. My curse, when I read something I proof it. “I probably saved you half a grade point with those edits.”

“Doubtful.”

“You keep forgetting that the majority of your professors were American. They don’t find the extra ‘u’ in words necessary. You could pull that with the Scottish professor you stalked across the Atlantic, but not your others.”