Save the Date (5 page)

“Hello, Lucy.” He gave a brief nod to Alex, then turned those green eyes on her. “I came here for you.”

Chapter Four

T
he disco ball could’ve dropped on Lucy and she wouldn’t have even noticed.

“May I?” Matt asked. He moved toward her, a vision in a tux. No. She could be strong. She could be indifferent. Oh, he was wearing her favorite cologne.

“She’s all yours.” Alex’s eyes sliced back to Lucy. “I’ll just be talking to the mayor over there. Lucy, I trust you’ll have a pleasant evening.”

The message was not lost on her.
If you hunt down another board member, I
will
come after you
.

Her whole body numb, Lucy let herself be folded into Matt’s loose embrace.

“How have you been?” His breath fanned over her ear.

Alone. Sad. Overwhelmed
. “Fine. And you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I’ve missed you?”

She lifted her head and stared into those eyes that she knew so well. “Why are you here?”

“I took a job with Sinclair Hotels as a senior accountant. I started this week.”

Just like that. He was back. Easy to leave and just as easy to return.

“I want to see you, Lucy.” He pulled her closer as they navigated between two couples. My team and I have to leave in an hour for a business trip, but I’ll be back next week.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She had built all her dreams on this one man, convinced he was the one.

“I know I screwed up. I ended things horribly.”

“You took two bites of spaghetti and said we were through.” She’d had more meaningful breakups with hairdressers.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “I was wrong, but I’m finally right where I want to be. I’ve thought about you every day for two years. That job in Dallas was nothing without you there. That’s why I’m back.” He ran his hand over a curl at her temple. “
You’re
why I’m back.”

So this was what it was like to have a man look at you like
that
. She wanted to believe every beautiful word, wanted to believe that intensity in his eyes was just for her.

“Just give me a chance to explain myself,” he said. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay.” Lucy nodded as hope warred with reluctance. “When you get back, we can—” Her focus shifted as a familiar bald man waltzed by. “Mr. Zaminski!” Jerking from Matt’s embrace, Lucy shrugged off his hands and charged toward the elderly board member and his newest wife. Number five, if she remembered correctly. And younger than the last.

Couples swirled around her, and Lucy had to weave among them. Mr. Zaminski had some speed for a seventy-five-year-old man.

“Mr. Zaminski!” She finally caught up and walked in step with the twosome. “Sir, I’m Lucy Wiltshire. I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?” Lucy swayed beside them like a one-woman dance show. “Maybe off the floor?”

The man squinted behind small glasses and kept up his waltz. “Do I know you?”

She raced around to his other side as he turned. “I think you might’ve voted a few days ago to cut the funding for my nonprofit.”

“I don’t concern myself with Sinclair community projects. Just the hotels.” He turned his wrinkled face to his wife. “Now go away. You’re bothering me.”

“But, sir.” Lucy did a skip-step before she lost them. “If you could just let me explain.” The man made an abrupt twirl away, and Lucy reached out her hand to stop him. “Mr. Zaminski, I—”

She gasped as her arm made contact with something hard. Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy caught sight of the waiter beside her, then his tray as it went airborne. She reached out in a blind grab, only to have her beaded shoulder-strap give up its weak hold. Black beads tumbled to the floor, and goblets of shrimp cocktail crashed around them.

Lucy clutched at her sagging top. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you and—” Time moved in slow motion as she watched Mr. Zaminski foxtrot right over the mess. His foot descended into the slippery spill. “Mr. Zaminski!”

But it was too late. His shiny black shoes made contact with one blob of shrimp, and it was over. His mouth went wide, his arms reached for the air. And down he went. The crowd parted in two as if commanded by Moses himself.

Lucy raced to Mr. Zaminski’s side. “Sir, are you okay?” Lucy’s top gaped in pitiful defeat as she bent low and reached for his hand.

Mr. Zaminski blinked a few times before his eyes focused on his wife on his left, then Lucy at his right. “You,” he hissed.

“I’m truly sorry.” Her cheeks were flames of heat. Half the ballroom gathered around them. “I simply wanted to tell you about—”

“Get this woman out of my face!”

Lucy barely dodged a shrimp as Mr. Zaminski lobbed a handful of spilled
hors d’oeuvres
her way. She had to get out of here. People were staring, some idiot had just taken a picture, and her shoes were covered in cocktail sauce.

Her dress gave a slight groan as she pivoted on her heel and came to her feet. She raced through the crowd and searched the room for the nearest exit. The old shame followed her and ushered her out. Thirty years old, and these people still held the power to reduce her to the klutz of her childhood. The girl who couldn’t do anything right.

Speed walking down a hallway, Lucy spotted a set of double doors. Bursting through, she stepped into the night air and made her escape. Alex had no idea why he was pursuing the woman. What did he care if she was upset? He had better things to be concerned with, that was for sure. It’s not like it was his fault she was half crazy. No wonder she couldn’t acquire funding from other sources. She was an erratic mess.

He saw a blur of a black dress round the corner ahead. He picked up his pace and followed her down the hall. Pushing doors wide open, he stepped outside. “Lucy!”

The lunatic woman looked over her shoulder, then promptly broke into a run. Like she was any match for him. Gaining on her, he reached out his arms, wrapped them around her, and lifted her body off the ground.

“Let go of me!” Her legs kicked out, her heels connecting with his shins. “Put me down, you oaf.”

He loosened his grip as she squirmed but didn’t let go. “Not until I feel certain you’re not going to run into the freeway.”

“I don’t want you
feeling
any part of me.”

“Now, that’s no way to talk. Where’s your Southern hospitality?”

“On the floor with the rest of my dress.” Her body flailed and jerked. “Don’t make me use my pepper spray.”

“Pretty sure I have the advantage here.” She stopped struggling, and he felt her uneven breaths beneath his grip. “Are you going to play nice?” Sniffing, she reached up a shaking hand and wiped her eyes.

“Yes,” came her defeated answer. “Just put me down . . . please.”

He lowered her until her feet touched the grass. “Do you know you’re missing a shoe?”

She looked up. Her eyes swam. That bottom lip quivered.

No, not tears. He could handle anything but that. Before caution had time to whisper in his ear, he gathered her in his arms and gave her stiff back a brotherly pat. “Would it be rude to ask you not to get snot on my jacket?”

“This is the worst night of my life,” Lucy said, her head buried in his shirt. “Even worse than the time James Allred stood me up for prom.” She gave a shaky inhale. “Two years in a row.”

He needed to say something to wrap this up. To calm. To comfort. “James was an idiot who sniffed glue for a hobby. Anyone with a brain knew that.”

“I didn’t know.” He saw two tears fall as she stepped back and attempted to hold her dress together. “So now I not only attack innocent senior citizens, show half the ballroom my worn-out strapless bra, but I’m brainless too?”

Alex raised his eyes toward heaven. Where had his finesse gone? He used to have a Midas touch. Did everything he attempt lately have to wither in front of him like a leaky balloon?

He softened the edges of his appeal. “It’s hot, Lucy. Why don’t we go back inside?”

“I’m never facing those people again.” She shrugged his arm away and began walking.

“Are you planning on walking home? Hitching a ride?”

“Just go away, rich boy.”

“You’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure out here.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be my one phone call.”

His brother had always been the sensitive, people-caring one in the family. This would be one of those situations where Will would know exactly what to do.

Muttering, Alex caught up with her, slipped off his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. “I don’t want your incarceration on my list of sins. It’s bad enough I terrorized you in high school.”

She gripped the lapels of his coat together and turned to face him. “At least you can finally admit it.”

No matter what the world thought of his cavalier ways, his mother had raised a gentleman. “Let me take you home.”

“Does that cheap line seriously work for you?”

The sooner they resolved this, the sooner he could go inside and get the evening over with. He still had hours of work waiting for him back at his campaign office. “Want to tell me what you thought you were doing in there?”

“Before or after I gave Mr. Zaminski a concussion?” Lucy shook her head. “Just go away.”

He didn’t know what possessed him, but his hands seemed to move of their own volition. Bracketing her shoulders, he slowly pulled her toward him. Lucy dropped her head. Alex would not be deterred. With one finger he lifted her chin. “Talk to me.”

“Why are you out here?”

“Because your shrewish wail was like a siren’s call.”

“I wasn’t wailing.” She blew out a long-suffering breath, setting the curls around her face in motion. “If you must know . . . I’ve had an abysmal week. An epic amount of awful. And I don’t know how to fix any of it.”

Her mascara trailed a black path down her cheeks, and her lips were liquid shine, either from gloss or tears, he didn’t know.

“You know the board didn’t cut your funds because of any personal reasons.”

“Tell that to Clare Deveraux. Did you see the way she looked at me? I’ve never been one of you, and I never will be.”

“You mean rich? Privileged?” His lips thinned. “No, you’re probably better than us.”

He watched the storm clouds pass again as she turned her eyes to his. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to beg for money from the very people who made my life a living nightmare?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t. Any problems you have can be fixed with money.”

“Not every problem.” Not the aching weight that had settled in his chest ever since his brother had disappeared. Or since Alex had blown out his knee. And walked away from a game he no longer cared about into a life he barely recognized.

The night breeze blew, ruffling her hair again. The spirals around her face rose and fell right back into disarray. As if compelled to touch, he reached out and captured a silky strand, resting it behind her ear.

A light flashed over his shoulder. Alex spun around. Two reporters stood twenty feet away, their cameras capturing his every move.

The media—it was an aspect of his life he loathed. And now that he had stepped into the race for Congress, it was even worse. He moved them a few steps back into the shadows. “I can make some calls. Talk to some people I know.”

“Right.” She looked at him like he had just promised to sprout another arm. “I’ll fix it myself.”

“Then I guess you don’t want to save Saving Grace as badly as I thought.”

Her mouth fell open in an outraged O. “You wouldn’t know sacrifice if it hit you between the eyeballs. That place is all I’ve got. All those girls have.”

“Then fight for it.” The faint note of her perfume hit him. The light floral scent suited her. If he were to give it a name, it would be
exasperation
.

“What do you think I do every day of my life? Not all of us get to toss around a football and play games for a living.”

Alex shrugged a shoulder. “Just born lucky, I guess.” He watched the two reporters get a few more shots and then walk away.

“You don’t know real problems. I have young women who come to me with no place to sleep—nothing to eat. Society just kicks them out on the streets with no resources to take care of themselves. Meanwhile any problem you have can be solved by writing a check with lots of zeroes.”

He knew problems. And pain. Yet he didn’t know what to do with either. “If you’re gonna wallow in it, I’m going in.” Alex could be reading passing stats for all the feeling in his voice. “I simply wanted to make sure you weren’t making plans to climb to the top of the hotel and dive off.”

“Only if you go first,” she mumbled. “Promise I’ll catch you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re all out of finesse tonight, aren’t you?”

“I think I lost it somewhere between flying shrimp and a potential lawsuit from a board member.”

The doors slammed open and his father’s latest accountant came running out. If that was her boyfriend, he was a little late. The woman could’ve done a belly flop off the Sinclair Hotel by now.

“Lucy, are you okay?”

Alex watched as she softened at the sight of the man. She didn’t walk into his open arms, but she did let the guy put his arm around her.

“I think she’s fine.” Alex stepped away from the pair. “Nothing a little hot tea and some dry cleaning won’t fix. Do you have it from here?”

“I’ll take her home,” the boyfriend said.

“Make sure you keep her there.” And with an eye on his perimeter, Alex stepped away, grateful he wouldn’t have to see Lucy Wiltshire again for another year.

And that would still be way too soon.