Read About Last Night... Online

Authors: Stephanie Bond

Tags: #Virginity, #Quarantine, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Betrothal, #General, #Mistaken Identity

About Last Night... (22 page)

BOOK: About Last Night...
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decided to wear the coat. Buttoned and belted, admittedly it looked a little weird with the yellow flip-flops, but she didn't care.

A hysterical laugh bubbled out. With so many problems, she should be so
lucky
as to have the fashion police haul her away.

Her feet were so heavy, she could barely walk. When she reached the elevator bay, the overhead display showed one car on

its way up. For a few seconds, she entertained the idea of waiting for it, then she changed her mind and headed for the stairs.

Why tempt another panic attack?

Descending the stairs slowly, she tried to sort out the ugly tasks before her. Marie said she'd be there in an hour, which gave

her time to find Manny, and talk to Steve.

Talk to Steve.

Her joints felt loose just thinking about it. Funny, but in her mind, breaking their engagement seemed anti-climactic compared

to confessing she'd somehow misplaced a family heirloom that was worth twice as much as her education had cost. And

priceless to his mother, she knew. Her stomach pitched. Oh, well, being in debt was the American way. Some people made

thirty years of payments on a house, she'd simply make thirty years of payments on a ring. That she didn't have. And would

never truly be able to replace.

After a few requests, and scrupulously avoiding the lobby, she found Manny at a loading dock arguing heatedly with a

deliveryman trying to wheel in a cartful of red and white carnations. "Janine! Just the person I needed to see. I wanted to call

you, but it's been so crazy now that we're actually back in business." He wagged his finger at the burly man. "Call your boss.

She
knows
I strictly forbid carnations for our live arrangements." He clucked. "Smelly weeds." Turning back to Janine, he

tugged her inside to some kind of workroom.

"I read on the sheet left in our room that the quarantine was lifted early this morning."

He rolled his eyes.
"Very
early this morning. The CDC traced the bacteria to a bad batch of barbecue
and
a peck of bad

stuffed peppers served last Thursday, all from a caterer we sometimes use in a pinch. Past tense, natch."

"Is everyone going to be okay?"

Manny nodded. "All but two guests have been released from the hospital, and those two are recovering well, according to

Dr. Pedro."

Starved for good news, she grinned. "Excellent."

"And now for the bad news," he said, his gaze somber.

"You didn't find the ring."

"No, I didn't." Manny pointed to the grass-stained cuffs of his white pants. "I swept the entire area with a metal detector. I

found three quarters and a dime, but not what you were looking for." He stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'll keep

looking. It'll turn up somewhere, and I have an extremely trustworthy staff. If it's here and we find it, you'll get it back."

"I'm offering a reward," she said, morose. "My firstborn."

He laughed. "I'll put out the word." Then he sobered. "And what's this my catering director tells me about the wedding being

back on?"

"He's misinformed," she assured him. "I am
not
marrying Steve Larsen."

"And does he know that?"

She puffed out her cheeks, then exhaled. "I'm on my way to tell him about the wedding … and the ring."

"And about Mr. Stillman?" he probed.

Her heart jerked crazily. "No. Derek and I made a pact."

"To bear children?"

A silly laughed escaped her. "To secrecy. There's nothing between us except a mistake."

He lifted one eyebrow.

"Okay, two mistakes. But that's all."

"You don't have feelings for him?"

She smirked. "Manny, don't you think I have enough problems for now?"

He nodded and relented with a shrug. "I guess I got carried away, what with my perfect record and all."

"I hope this failure isn't going to keep you from getting wings or something," she teased, thinking the silver lining of this

black cloud had been making a new friend.

"Don't concern yourself about me," he said. "Now, go." He shooed her toward the door. "Put this dreadful task behind you,

then burn that coat, girl."

She threw him a kiss, then made her way toward the lobby, her pulse climbing higher and higher. Every other step she

reminded herself to breathe, refusing to have a panic attack now. She'd made her bed, and now she had to lie in it … alone.

Which was, all things considered, better than lying underneath it.

Steve was easy to spot pacing in a conversation area flanked with leather furniture, but she was surprised to find him alone,

and apparently agitated. Pausing next to a gray marble column, she observed the man she'd thought to marry, hoping to see some

kind of justification for why she had accepted his proposal i

n the first place.

Steve Larsen was a strikingly handsome man, no doubt. White blond hair, perpetually tanned, with breathtakingly good taste

in clothing, housing and transportation. She squinted.

And an ice pack against his mouth?

At that moment he looked up and recognized her. "Janine?"

Summoning courage, she crossed the lobby. "H-hi," she said, feeling as if she were face-to-face with a stranger.

"Hi, yourself," he said with a frown. "Where the devil have you been?"

She blinked. So much for a happy reunion. Tempted to snap back, she reminded herself of the messages she had to deliver.

"Collecting my things," she said, indicating her makeshift bag. "And tying up loose ends." Stepping forward, she pulled away

the ice pack and gasped at the dried blood and redness beneath. "What on earth happened to your mouth?"

His scowl deepened. "I fell," he said, gesturing to the marble floor. "It's nothing."

"But you might need stitches—

"

"I said it's nothing!"

Drawing back at his tone, she averted her eyes, noticing several people were staring.

Steve noticed too, instantly contrite. He bent to kiss her high on the cheek, a gesture she'd once found so romantic. Now she

swallowed hard to keep from pushing him away. Her response wasn't fair, she knew. She had made a huge mistake by agreeing

to marry him. He bore none of the blame for her naive acceptance.

"Let's sit," she suggested. "I need to talk to you."

Her heart skipped erratically, and her hopes of easing into the conversation were dashed when Steve asked, "Where's my

ring?" He grasped her left hand with his free one.

She attempted a smile, but failed. "Um, that's one of the things I have to talk to you about." After clearing her throat, she

blurted, "I lost it," and winced.

He lowered the ice pack and stared. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. "You …
lost
it?"

Tears sprang to her eyes and she nodded. "Steve, I'm so sorry."

"Where did you lose it?" he demanded. "How?"

She shook her head, her tears falling in earnest now. "I don't know—I've looked everywhere. I'm so, so sorry."

Steve lay his head back against the chair and moved the ice pack to his forehead. "My mother is going to kill me."

Sniffling, she said, "I'll tell Mrs. Larsen it was all my fault, Steve."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Except you weren't the one who was supposed to get it insured—I was."

"You didn't get it insured?" she squeaked, then hiccuped.

His eyes bulged from his head, and his face turned crimson. "I didn't think you'd be careless enough to lose it!" He sat

forward, his head in his hands. "Oh my God, my mother is going to kill me."

"I'll repay you," she said. "You and your family. Every dime, I promise."

He seemed less than impressed. Looking at her through his fingers, he said, "First of all, it's an heirloom, Janine. It can't be

replaced. And second, I find the notion of
you
paying me or my family out of our household money, which will be primarily

money
I've
earned, utterly ludicrous."

"Th-that's another thing I want to talk to you about."

"What?"

She looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. "I'm not going to marry you, Steve."

His face took on a mottled look. "You're not going to marry me?"

She nodded.

A purplish color descended over his expression, and he surprised her by laughing.
"You
are not going to marry
me?"
He

slapped his knee. "Oh, that's rich. My mother spent all day Thursday calling everyone on the guest list letting them know the

ceremony had been canceled, then she spent all this morning calling everyone
again
to tell them the ceremony is on again. And

now you're saying she has to call everyone yet again to tell them the wedding is off again?"

Astonishment washed over her. He was more concerned about his mother being imposed upon or embarrassed than about

losing her? "All I'm telling you, Steve," she said calmly, "is that I'm not marrying you." She stood and attempted to walk away,

but he blocked her retreat.

"Janine, you can't just change your mind—I have plans."

What had she ever seen in him? she wondered as she studied his cold eyes. "We're too different, Steve, I should've never

said yes. I'm sorry if this causes you or your parents undue embarrassment. I'd be glad to call every guest personally and accept

full blame."

She tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm, his chest heaving. "I'm starting to think you didn't lose the ring after all."

"What?"

"Maybe you're planning to sell it."

A chill settled over her heart at the realization that she and Steve didn't know each other at all, but had still planned to marry.

"I swear to you, I don't have the ring. And I swear I'll pay you the money it's worth, even if it takes a lifetime. I'm sorry it has to

end this way, but we don't love each other. I'm sure we'll both be happier—

"

"Will you, Janine?" he asked, still gripping her arm. "Will you be happier going back to your scruffy little old maid

existence?"

His hurtful words stunned her to silence.

A little smile curled his battered lip. "Since you'll never be able to repay me for my ring, there is something you can do for

me."

"What?" she whispered, frightened at the change in his demeanor.

"I still have my hotel room."

Revulsion rolled through her, and her mind reeled for something to say.

"Mr. Larsen."

They turned, and to Janine's immense relief, Manny stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back, his face completely

serene.

"Yes?" Steve asked, easing his grasp on her arm a fraction.

"I'm the general manager of this hotel, and I have something for you."

He frowned. "What is it?"

Manny withdrew one hand from behind him and held up a stopwatch, which he clicked to start. "Ten minutes," he said, his

voice casual. "Ten minutes to remove your personal belongings from your room and leave the premises." Then he smiled.

"Without
Ms. Murphy."

Janine suppressed a smile of her own. The general manager had succeeded in shaking Steve enough that he released her arm.

"I don't think you know who I am," Steve said, his chest visibly expanding.

"Sir, I know exactly who and what you are," Manny replied, then glanced at the stopwatch. "Oh, look, nine minutes."

Steve's bravado faded a bit. "I'd like to speak to your supervisor."

"I am my supervisor," Manny explained patiently, never taking his eyes off the stopwatch.

Steve looked at her, but she kept her eyes averted to avoid provoking him further.

"I'm going to sue you for the worth of the ring," he hissed.

"Why?" she asked, lifting her gaze. "I don't have anything worth taking."

His feral gaze swept her up and down. "You got that right," he said, then glared at Manny. "Forget the room. There isn't

anything in my life that can't be easily replaced." After a dismissive glance in her direction, he wheeled and strode across the

lobby toward the revolving door.

She stared dry-eyed until he had disappeared from sight. Then her knees started to knock and she sank onto the pale leather

settee.

"Real Prince Charming," Manny muttered, patting her shoulder. "If you can wait another thirty minutes, I'll take you home."

"No, thank you, I have a ride," Janine said, although she didn't recognize her own voice.

"Janine?"

At the sound of Marie's voice, she sprang to her feet and rushed into her sister's arms.

"What's going on? I just passed Steve in the parking lot and got the feeling if he'd had a gun, I would have been target

practice."

"I broke our engagement."

Marie scoffed. "Is that all? Darling, men are a dime a dozen."

"And I lost my engagement ring."

Marie sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh, now
that
hurts."

Janine pulled back and looked at her sister's pained expression, then laughed in blessed relief. She turned to Manny and

mouthed, "Thank you," then she and Marie strolled through the lobby arm in arm. When they passed the reservations desk

where Janine had first begged her way up to room 855, she marveled at the changes in her life in a mere forty-eight hours.

She'd lost the man she thought she wanted, and met the man she knew she needed. But when Derek's face swam before her,

she quickly squashed the image. She wasn't about to fall into another relationship so soon after her humbling experience with

BOOK: About Last Night...
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