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Authors: Mona Ingram

Fixing Freddie (9 page)

BOOK: Fixing Freddie
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“Thanks.” Tears burned at the back of her eyes but she managed to control them. She glanced at her watch. “The ceremony will be starting in a few minutes. I think I’ll walk down and grab one of the chairs.”

“We’ll come too,” said Lauren. “These heels are killing me.”

* * *

On the shore of the lake, candles flickered in the gathering dusk as Ashley and Ryan exchanged vows. Samantha continued to look around for Freddie, but she didn’t spot him and finally accepted that he wasn’t coming.
Probably a good thing,
she told herself. But she didn’t believe it.

Dinner was casually but elegantly presented, with a row of chefs offering custom grilled steaks, salmon, barbecued ribs, lobster and chicken as well as a selection of vegetarian dishes. Samantha and Cody sat with Lauren and Zach at a table with another two couples they recognized from their school days. Cody was unexpectedly attentive, jumping up to retrieve items for Samantha and Lauren even though servers hovered nearby. Samantha consoled herself with the fact that he was behaving himself. Perhaps the breakup wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d anticipated.

The party moved smoothly inside, where guests mingled and danced. Doors folded back to allow access to a broad patio, and the gentle evening breeze drew some couples outside between dances.

“This is the most relaxed wedding I’ve been to in a long time,” said Lauren, coming back from the dance floor with Zach. “I was looking around, and you know something? With the exception of Ashley and Ryan, none of our former schoolmates ended up together. I think that’s interesting.”

Samantha scarcely heard her. For the past few minutes, her stomach had been growling. She leaned forward, trying not to show her distress.

“What is it, kid?” Lauren saw right away that something was wrong.

Samantha managed a weak smile. “This is embarrassing, but something I ate must be disagreeing with me. I’m feeling slightly nauseous.”

“What did you have?”

“A little of everything. Cody kept bringing me stuff to try.” She looked around. “Have you seen him?”

Lauren shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Listen, did you have ribs?”

“Yes, they were good.”

“Remember that time a couple of summers ago when we had ribs at that picnic and you got sick? We figured you must have had a reaction to something in the sauce.”

Samantha groaned, clutched at her stomach again. “I’d forgotten, but come to think of it I haven’t had ribs since then.” She stood up. “I’m just going to run up to the room for a few minutes.” She put out a hand. “No, don’t come with me.” She gave her friend a crooked grin. “This is something I can do by myself.”

“All right, then. But if you need help, call down to the desk and page me.”

“Will do.” Samantha almost ran from the room. In the elevator, she fumbled for her room card, and had it ready when she reached her door.

The door opened silently. For a moment, she thought she was in the wrong room. A flimsy wrap was flung over one of the easy chairs and a pair of strappy high heels lay on the floor, evidently kicked off in a hurry. She backed up, checked the number on the door. It was the right room.

And then she heard them. There was no mistaking what was going on. She hesitated, her stomach pains forgotten for the moment, but a perverse curiosity drew her forward.

The scene in front of her was totally expected, and yet she felt detached, as though she were seeing it from far away. They were on the bed. Cody hadn’t even bothered to take his slacks off; they were bunched around his ankles and for an irrational moment she wondered how he could move. But he was moving...his white buttocks pumped up and down while the girl beneath him moaned, legs wrapped around his waist.

She must have gasped, because Cody turned his head. “Hi Babe,” he said jauntily. “Why don’t you join us? We could have a threesome.”

The girl giggled, snapping Samantha back to reality. Clutching her purse to her chest she ran from the room. Their laughter followed her down the hall as the door closed.

She looked around blindly. The elevator was out of the question. At the end of the hall, an exit light glowed and she ran for it, recalling that there was an area of shrubs and flowers between the hotel and the parking lot. Her stomach rumbled and she held a hand over her mouth as she ran down two flights of stairs and pushed her way out through the side doors.

Her stomach heaved just as she reached a planted area. Bent over, she hung on to a slender tree and purged everything she’d eaten, but her thoughts were back there in the room, with Cody. Why had she ever given him the benefit of the doubt?

Her stomach heaved again, but there was nothing left in her body except tears. Tears of anger at Cody’s actions, but mainly tears of regret that she’d been so damned stubborn...that she’d stuck to her old-fashioned notion of breaking it off with Cody before getting involved with Freddie. Because that wasn’t going to happen now. She’d blown it with Freddie, and that knowledge sent her into a fresh paroxysm of tears.

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Freddie knew he’d missed the wedding, but something compelled him to drive up to Whistler anyway. Traffic was light at this time of the evening but he knew he had to be careful not to speed; the Aston Martin was a magnet for cops. He glanced at his watch. The party would still be going and perhaps he’d be in time for a dance with Samantha. The thought made him smile, and his foot pressed down on the accelerator. Just a few more miles and he’d see her again.

He avoided the front of the hotel and pulled into the parking lot at the side. The gardens here were skilfully illuminated and he skirted them, heading for the music that wafted out from the lake side of the hotel.

A mewling sound caught his attention and he stopped, looked around. Was it an animal, or someone crying? He tilted his head, listened, and the sound came again. He walked hesitantly toward the sound.

Samantha stood clutching a tree, bent over, as though she’d been ill. Part of her face was in shadow, but on the part he could see, tears streamed down her cheek.

“Samantha. Sweetheart. What’s the matter?” He pulled out a crisp white handkerchief and handed it to her.

She dabbed at her mouth and looked up at him. “Oh Freddie,” she said, and fresh tears began to fall. “I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

He looked around, not understanding. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours? Why isn’t he out here taking care of you?”

She straightened up, waved toward the hotel. “He’s up there, in our room, having sex with someone he met before the wedding.” She gave a strangled laugh. “I walked in on them. And then I came down here and got sick.”

“All right. That’s enough.” He picked up her purse, handed it to her and then gathered her into his arms as though she were a child and carried her to his car. “I’m getting you out of here.” He settled her into the car. “If you need to be sick again, let me know and I’ll try to pull over.”

“I must look awful,” she muttered, fumbling inside her purse for her compact. “Oh my God,” she said into the mirror. “I look worse than awful.”

“Not to me,” he said with a grin, and they pulled out.

“Where are we going?” she said. But she didn’t really care. She knew she was safe with Freddie.

“I’m taking you to my chalet.”

She struggled to sit up straighter. “You have a chalet? Here? In Whistler? What are you, made of money?”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “No. I bought it quite a while ago.”

* * *

“It’s beautiful,” she said, standing shakily in the great room. “And look at that view.” The lights of Whistler Village twinkled below them.

“You should see it in the winter,” he said with a smile. “But we’re not here for the view. I’m going to run you a hot bath.”

She frowned. “I don’t need a bath. I had a shower before the wedding.”

He grinned down at her. “I’m not suggesting you’re dirty, but you
do
look like you’re about to lose it.” He turned her around and guided her down the hall. “There’s a bedroom there, on the left. You’ll find a bathrobe and toiletries in there. By the time you change, I’ll have your bath ready.”

Samantha padded into the bathroom clutching a white terry cloth bathrobe. “What about Lauren?”

Freddie was pouring fragrant bath oil into the water. “Lauren can get her own bath.”

“No, silly.” Samantha giggled. “She’ll wonder where I am. She’ll worry about me.”

Freddie nodded. “She’s on your cell phone, right?”

Samantha nodded.

“Good. I’ll call her while you’re in the bath and explain.”

* * *

Freddie was kneeling down in front of the fireplace coaxing the fire along when Samantha came out of the bathroom. He looked up and studied her. “You look a bit better,” he said simply.

“Did you get in touch with Lauren?”

He nodded. “She was a surprised, but I gave her the address here and she’ll take care of whatever stuff you left in your hotel room and bring it over here in the morning.” His eyes narrowed. “As for the guy you were with, that part is up to you.”

Samantha stared into the fire. “That’s not a problem. I was going to break it off with him anyway; he’s just made it easier.” A sudden thought struck her. “He has a key to my apartment, though.”

“I can take care of that. We’ll have the locks changed.”

“Just like that?” she asked.

“Just like that.” He stood up. “I’ve got some hot chocolate ready. I think it’ll settle your stomach.”

“Okay.” She followed him into the kitchen. The bright lights revealed dark smudges under his eyes. “I’ve been so focused on myself I didn’t notice, but you look like you haven’t slept for ages.”

His gaze drifted around the room, then landed on her face. “I’ve had a couple of rough days.” He handed her a mug.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” She took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate; it was good.

“Not tonight.” He seemed far away. “Tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He swayed, grabbed the counter for support. “We need to go to bed.”

She looked up at him, alarmed.

“Not together, Samantha.” His gaze held hers. “At least not tonight.”

Her throat went dry. She nodded.

They walked down the hall together, his arm around her waist. She went into the guest room then stopped, turned to see him framed in the doorway. “Freddie?”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you call me Sweetheart tonight? Back in the parking lot?”

He nodded, eyes gleaming in the soft light. “Yes, Samantha, I called you Sweetheart.”

“Oh. I thought maybe I’d dreamed it.” She took another sip of hot chocolate. Warmth spread through her body that had nothing to do with the hot drink. “Goodnight, Freddie.”

“Goodnight, Samantha.”

* * *

Samantha awoke to the sound of voices. Her overnight bag had been placed on an old steamer trunk across the room. She dug through it and pulled on her jeans and a turtle-neck sweater. The silver Orca necklace completed the outfit.

“Hey, you guys,” she said. Lauren and Zach were sitting at the kitchen counter drinking coffee while Freddie fried bacon and scrambled eggs. They exchanged a look that sizzled through her body like summer lightning.

BOOK: Fixing Freddie
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ads

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