Whirlwind (6 page)

Rather than risk another beating, I changed the subject. “So, what did Mitch think of the note?”

Beth blew her bangs out of the way. “He was more interested in your message than Ann’s, actually.” She sighed, her anger dissipating into a small smile. “Mitch really did look like he was going to be sick for a while. When I told him you were ready to put him on the ground if he didn’t pull himself together, he perked up. So did Jason, actually.”

The car lurched forward. “
Jason
did?” I hadn’t thought about Beth telling him who I was. Did he already know?

“Oh yeah. Before I left, I heard him asking Mitch all about you—what you looked like, did you have a date, where were you staying—but Mitch completely ignored him. Jason got pretty irritated.” She shifted so she was facing me. “What was that all about?”

“I have no clue.” I hadn’t thought about Jason in more than six months—well, until today—but he was asking about me? I consoled myself with the fact that Mitch didn’t tell him anything.

The consolation didn’t last long. Why
didn’t
Mitch say anything?

Wait—do I want Jason to know who I am or not?
My stomach filled with something much more violent than butterflies. Jason was mad? What if he only wanted to chew me out for leading him on via email?

“Huh. The way you two were making
googly
eyes at each other in the church, I figured you must know him. What’d he say to you?”

My stomach did another flip. “Nothing. I didn’t know who he was until later.” We stopped at a strange five-way intersection. “Which way?”

Beth pointed to the right-hand road ahead of us. “Straight, then around the hill. So you walked all the way to the front of the church with the sexiest guy in the building and didn’t say
anything
to him?”

I could hardly breathe next to Jason, and she expected me to have a conversation with him? Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck just thinking about seeing him again. “I guess.”

“Are you blushing?” Beth asked, incredulous. “Goodness, Melissa, you’re such a child. You work with guys all the time, but you’re afraid of one hot stranger? What’s with you?”

What
was
wrong with me?
“I don’t know. What would I say to him? It’s not like I could interview him or something.”

Beth straightened her skirt. “You introduce yourself and ask him where he’s from, how he knows Mitch, whether he prefers blondes or brunettes. How hard could it be?”

It shouldn’t be hard, but my ears burned as I imagined how he’d phrase his answers.
But this isn’t email, now is it?

“He’s from
Michigan
, and he’s Mitch’s brother.” I ignored the third topic, but wondered if having a little bit of both blond and dark hair made me a loser either way.

“But you didn’t know that then. I’m surprised he didn’t guess who you were. ’Course I guess Mitch didn’t know what you were wearing.” She opened her window and took a deep breath of the salty air. “Maybe he’ll track you down at the reception.”

And make me explain my obscene online mouth?
Please, no,
I prayed to no one.

Beth pointed at the rambling ranch homes lining the left side of the boulevard. “Could you imagine living in one of these? Waking up to this view every morning?”

Out her window, the narrow strip of land ended with a sheer drop to the Pacific, distracting me from my internal bickering. In the distance, the sparkling sea was dotted with white sailboats and black cargo ships.

“Nope. I don’t think I’ll ever see the amount of money it takes to get into one of these houses.” As if to punctuate my point, a Bentley pulled up next to me, the driver ignoring my stare. “I have a tough time believing Chase grew up here.”

“And Mitch…and Jason,” she added with a smirk.

This was news to me. Mitch had always described home as simply “
L.A.
” “Mitch’s parents live here too?”

“Yeah, up that way.” She pointed at the hill above us. “He and Ann have a condo around the other side. It was their parents’ gift to them.”

I should’ve known. Mitch’s parents were both successful: his mom was a doctor, and his dad was an executive at a big car company. But I’d neglected to consider the fiscal impact of their chosen professions. The one time I’d met them they’d been in jeans and sneakers and showed none of the snootiness I expected in people of wealth. I’d thought at the time that Mitch was fortunate to have such likeable parents—I just didn’t know
how
fortunate.

No wonder Ann had snapped him up. She and the
McAlisters
ran in the same refined circles, whereas I lived in a completely different social zip code. Attending the same university had given Mitch and me enough common ground to build a strong friendship, but I’d never considered our backgrounds. He liked to play the redneck cowboy part, but on the rare occasion he dressed up, he seemed just as comfortable in a suit and tie. His understanding of the auto industry—from design to production to bottom lines—was endless. To some, his confidence and knowledge came off as arrogance, and I knew firsthand Mitch could be an acquired taste. But no one could ask for a better friend.

What about the younger McAlister? He definitely didn’t have confidence issues, that’s for sure. And damn, he looked good in a tuxedo. If my imagination was to be believed, he’d look even better out of it.

Ignoring my lapse into lustful daydreaming, Beth let the conversation drop in favor of soaking up the sun, leaving me to continue my mental tail-chasing as we cruised along the cliffs.

Just because Jason turned my world upside down in those first seconds didn’t mean he was anything like Mitch. What really lurked behind those brilliant eyes—a snobbish know-it-all, a childish womanizer, or a true gentleman? If he was set on finding the Melissa he knew from the internet, why was he so interested in me, someone he’d barely spent three minutes with? What kept him looking in my direction?

We wound our way around the peninsula, my mind buzzing. The truth silenced the curiosity. None of the questions mattered because I doubted I’d have the chance to answer them. Once Jason realized who I was—and that I’d brushed him off like so much dust months ago—there was no way he’d give me another thought. And after all the rude comments I’d sent him, it wasn’t like I’d go looking for him.

This isn’t about me
. I was here for Mitch. What his brother knew or didn’t know was inconsequential. In a few hours they’d both be but a memory.

Three

“Are you sure this is the right way?” I asked.

The road turned south and the houses all but disappeared, leaving stretches of dried grass and exposed rock on both sides of us. Even the ocean below was deserted.

Beth’s silence didn’t help.

“Maybe I should turn around.”
And wake up my electronic guide.

“Well…no, wait!” Her hand shot out toward the windshield. “We’re fine. There’s the lighthouse. It’s just past that.”

Beth’s hair whipped around in the breeze from the open window. “I love the ocean,” she sighed. “Maybe I can move down here when I graduate.”

I raised an eyebrow. Beth Miller, psychologist to the stars? Hard to imagine.

“It’s not like this every day,” I said. “Most days it’s foggy, I think.”

She frowned. “You’re such a buzz kill, Mel. Today is perfect.”

“Yeah, perfect.”

Beth didn’t see my scowl. Sitting up straighter, she turned her attention to the road ahead of us. “Slow down, I think it’s just around this bend.”

I couldn’t see anything but brown. This seemed an odd place to find a four-star hotel, but when we rounded the curve, my mouth fell open.

To the right, the narrow strip of land separating the asphalt from the cliff’s edge widened dramatically, forming a huge peninsula that stretched out toward the island in the distance. Sloped away from the street, the property sprawled below us. Gone were the scrub and gravel. The
Pacifico
Grande Hotel—no, resort—with its pools, palm trees, and putting greens, covered every square inch of real estate in fresh greens, cool blues, and terra cotta reds.

Beth let out a little squeal. “We’re here!”

I turned at the fountain-flanked entrance, pausing to inspect a sign with ten arrows pointing to different destinations within the compound. Hotel, golf course, day spa, conference center…where were we supposed to go?

“Where
is
here, exactly?” I asked, feeling behind me for the invitation on the backseat.

“Todd said it was easy to find. We want the Catalina Ballroom. There, third from the bottom,” Beth said, peering at the list.

Like tourists we crept along, meticulously reading every sign we passed. Just when I was sure we were about to drive off the cliff, the road ended in a parking lot packed with cars.

Nestled between palm trees at the end of the lot, the ballroom stood apart from the rest of the hotel, isolated from the kid-filled pools and noisy tennis courts. A group of people milled around in front, but by the time I’d found a parking spot, they’d vanished.

“Are you sure this is it?”

Beth hopped out and headed in the direction of the building. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on!”

“Hang on a sec,” I called. “I need to grab my gift. Does Todd have yours?”

She giggled. “Of course not. We had it sent directly to their condo. You can do that, you know, Mel.”

“Really? I hadn’t thought of that,” I said sarcastically, but I smiled back at her. I actually had two gifts. The first contained a boring set of towels that I
did
have shipped. I should’ve had them monogrammed, considering the company Mitch and Ann would be keeping.

The second gift resided in the big silver box covered in metallic red cupids that I hefted out of the trunk. I’d gone in with the guys for the joke gift, hoping to embarrass Mitch’s new bride. After hearing of Ann’s fondness for frankfurters, however, I had a feeling we’d be getting a thank you instead of a reprimand.

“What did you get them?” Beth asked.

Avoiding her inquisitive gaze, I strode toward the building. “Just some things in case Mitch ever took Ann for a ride,” I said, then clamped my mouth shut.

Beth smiled, completely missing the innuendo. “That’s nice. She’d look great in a Stetson,” she said, eyeing the box. “Did you get Mitch a new hat, too?”

“Chaps,” I coughed.
Edible chaps. And a riding crop.

Thankfully Beth was now occupied with yet another sign.

“I guess we go this way,” she said. Turning right, we followed a path that took us past the building and along a low hedge. On the other side, the crowd we’d seen earlier mixed and mingled among exotic flowers and sculpted bushes. We reached a break in the foliage and were greeted by a young blonde dressed immaculately in green. Her gold nametag announced her as Vanessa, Wedding Liaison.

“The Linwood-McAlister wedding?” she asked, and we both nodded. “Welcome. Please enjoy the garden and hors d’oeuvres while we wait for the happy couple. I can take that, if you’d like.” She opened her hands for my gift, which I gave her, and she placed it on a nearby cart, hiding it behind several tastefully wrapped presents. “Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask for me,” she added. With a graceful sweep of her hand, she invited us in.

Impressed, I turned to Beth, but she’d already started into the crowd, saying something about starving and missing lunch. She made a beeline for the food, bouncing from one waiter to another like a pink pinball, and I hurried to keep up. In a matter of minutes, she’d sampled every platter of colorful hors d’oeuvres and hand-rolled sushi within reach, charging me with holding two fruity beverages while she ate.

“Don’t you want any?” she asked, polishing off what looked like smoked salmon topped with caviar.

Doing my best imitation of my mother, I glared at her. “No, thank you.
I
don’t want to spoil my dinner.”

With a guilty grimace she wiped her lips. “You’re right. I should just enjoy the view.” Reclaiming one of the drinks, she stared contentedly across the water at
Santa Catalina Island
silhouetted against the blue of sea and sky.

Setting my unwanted glass on the empty tray of a passing server, I turned my attention to the guests. Grouped in twos and fours, the crowd naturally divided itself by age. The older generation, in its conservative suits and below-the-knee dresses, congregated on one side of the garden, while the younger set, in miniskirts and tie-less short sleeves, flocked on the other side. Occasionally someone would break ranks, usually chasing down a tray of food or drink.

Whether casual or formal, everyone’s attire was runway-ready. I straightened my simple faux-silk blouse, wishing I’d gone with my business suit. Conservative but professional, my suit would’ve been better than trying to fit my department store fashion sense in with the haute couture around me.

What I wore didn’t really matter, since I knew almost no one. The few faces I recognized from Poly weren’t friends, just students I’d seen in passing. I entertained myself by sorting the group a different way:
his
and
hers
. Who’d been invited by Mitch and who by Ann?

“Darn, I left my camera at home. Do you have yours, Melissa?” Beth asked suddenly.

“Just my phone. What do you want a shot of?”

“Oh, everything.” She opened her arms wide.

“I don’t think
everything
will fit. How about one of you and Catalina?”

I dug out my phone while Beth gingerly crossed a small strip of grass and struck a pose in front of the low brick wall separating the garden from the cliff.

“Ready?”

Making sure the island was visible behind her, I snapped the picture. As soon as I lowered the phone, she was at my side.

“Let me see!” she demanded and inspected the display. “Excellent! Let me take one of you.” She pushed me in the direction of where she’d been standing and held up the phone.

“Why?”

“For Mitch, silly.”

Between the huge resort, Beth’s appetizer frenzy, and the stylish crowd, I’d managed to forget this was my last chance to spend any time with Mitch.

Reluctantly I backed toward the wall. With the phone in front of her face, Beth called, “Say cheese!”

I assumed she took the picture, but she shook her head. “That one didn’t come out. Take a step back and to the right.”

I did as I was told, praying she wasn’t sending me over the edge. Her cry of “MY right” coincided with my foot landing on something harder than grass.

Too late I realized I’d stepped on someone’s foot. I stumbled forward and managed to stay upright, but my victim wasn’t so lucky. The man’s ankle folded underneath him, and he went down in the grass, swearing. Shooting another glare at Beth, I spun around and quickly offered him my hand.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

Ignoring my hand and my apology, he grumbled something that sounded like “Watch where you’re going,” and hurried away, leaving his spilled drink and napkin on the ground.

“It was an accident,” I called after him, but he just threw his hand in the air, dismissing me.

Well,
I’m
not the worst-dressed person here.
Compared to the immaculate people around us, the man brushing off his knees could only be described as a sore thumb. I should’ve looked away, but watching him try to straighten his out-of-date, wrinkled suit was as captivating as a slow-motion car wreck. His clothes must’ve come straight out of mothballs; no matter how he tugged or pressed them, the creases sprang back to their original shape.

“Aw, you stained his best eighties-night outfit,” Beth said, snickering. “Maybe he was mad ’cause he didn’t know this wasn’t a theme wedding. Those wide lapels and thin tie remind me of
Miami Vice
.”

“My mom has an old cowl-neck sweater and some leg warmers I could’ve worn. Like, gag me with a spoon,” I said with a giggle.

“Still, he didn’t have to be so rude.”

The man glanced back at us with a leer, then grabbed a fresh drink from a passing waiter. A massive cowlick on the back of his head waved at us as he struck up a conversation with the hostess, Vanessa. She gave him an amused once-over before she turned on her professional charm and politely listened.

With one last smirk, Beth returned to the task at hand. “Here, let me try again.” She backed away, and I stationed myself against the wall. “
Really
smile this time, Mel. Think of Jason.”

Before I could compose an appropriate comeback, I was inundated with the memory of Jason’s seductive laugh. I didn’t even realize Beth had taken the picture until she touched me on the elbow.

“Much better,” she said, handing me the phone.

I inspected the goofy expression on my face, vowing to delete the shot as soon as possible.

“This is fun! Hey, maybe we could get Vanessa to take one of us together.” Beth rose to her toes, looking for the hostess, but became distracted by the arrival of yet another waiter and a new tray of
phyllo
-wrapped delicacies.

I’d started to stow my phone when the unkempt man again caught my eye. Alone now, he lingered near the gift cart and watched the other guests. His expression was hard to read; he didn’t appear to be looking for someone in particular, more like he was shopping. Either way, something about him bothered me, and not just the fact he didn’t fit in anywhere.
His? Hers? Neither.

I opened my cell phone and thumbed through the photos, finding Beth’s first attempt. In the picture, the man was standing right next to me with his arm raised. I hadn’t realized he was so close—he looked like he was about to put his hand on my shoulder…or my hair? I shivered. Maybe knocking him down wasn’t such a bad thing after all. My thumb hovered over the delete button.

“Oh no you don’t!” Beth said and ripped the phone out of my hands. “If you delete those pictures before sending them to me, I’m going to post the karaoke video.”

Karaoke? How does she know about that?
“What video? There’s no—”

“Promise me you’ll send them all to me, or the first person tagged on the post is Craig.” Humming what I could barely make out as
Bohemian Rhapsody
, Beth threw one hand in the air, her index and pinky finger extended, and bobbed her head violently.
Shit.
Todd could’ve told her what I’d done under the influence of tequila, but if there was video… “Fine. I promise. Please stop!”