Gillian's Do-Over (26 page)

Oh
, my gosh. He doesn’t know?
“I think they’re leaving tonight on the red eye. Their flight back to London is a long one.”

Diggy
nodded again. “Well, when you see them off, please do give him our best. That woman Sara doesn’t talk much, does she?” He paused, a twinkle sparking in his eyes, and chuckled.

Gillian couldn’t stop the l
aughter that again threatened. “I’ll pass on your sentiments. I’m sure he’ll appreciate them.” She wandered back in the direction of the chair Mo was holding for her. But he was dancing, with Lauren, who was laughing at something he must have said.

Shortly thereafter, Mo escorted Lauren off the dance floor. He approached Gillian and ordered gently, “Eat something.
You’ve been in supervisor mode all day. No need to do that now. It looks like the happy couple has everything in hand, chatting with their friends at every table, even managing to keep Trudi in her corner.”

Gillian
scanned the room. Bianca’s father and Sara were at one end of the reception area talking with a lawyer from Bianca’s firm. Trudi was trapped next to Parsifal, who was eagerly concentrating on the food.

“I guess you’re right. As long as we don’t have to deal with another scene like the rehearsal dinner. I’m
so
glad you were there and able to take things in hand.”

Lauren
took a seat next to Gillian and chuckled. “Mo told me what happened.”

Mo grinned.
“Trudi isn’t so bad when she knows she’s outweighed. Do you suppose that’s why she hooked up with old Parsnips? She has to be at least five inches taller than him and more than a hundred pounds lighter. He’s not nearly as good-looking as Parker.”

“Looks aren’t everything, Mo.”
Although, come to think of it, looks had been one reason Gillian kept hitting the delete button on so many of those potential online dates.

“You’re right.
I shouldn’t be so dismissive. I’m not all that great shakes in the looks department either.”

“You’re just fine,” Lauren offered, patting his hand.

Gillian peered at Mo, who was grinning at Lauren. Was Mo fishing for compliments? “And very handy when it comes to keeping a certain mother of the bride in hand.”

“Hmm.” He emptied his champagne glass. “
Are you two ladies ready to go home? I’ll have our cars brought up.”

“Not until all
the guests have departed, and Quinn and Bianca leave.” Gillian looked up again. “And it looks like they’re getting ready to do just that.” Her voice caught. “Why don’t you two enjoy the music, while I say good-bye to Quinn and Bianca?”

Mo stood up and
escorted Lauren, pink-cheeked, to the dance floor. He winked at Gillian as she headed toward the bridal couple.

Hugs and kisses all around occupied the immediate family members for several minutes. Gillian kept mental fingers crossed that
Trudi wasn’t going to try anything when Parker stepped up, gathered his daughter in his arms and whispered something to her that generated a watery smile over his shoulder. Gillian glanced back at Mo, who seemed to be enjoying himself as he whirled Lauren in time to the music.

Trudi
spoke up. “My turn.” She hugged Bianca and then turned to Quinn, giving him a quick hug, too. Her voice suddenly husky, she said, “Take care of my baby or I’ll have your hide, young man.”

“No worries,
Ms. Wilson-Sauer.”

“Now that we’re related, you may call me
Mother Trudi.” She sniffed, angling her face to look down her nose at him even as she presented a cheek for him to kiss.

“Yes, ma’am.” Quinn gave her an air kiss
and then a casual salute. He shook hands with Diggy before grasping Bianca’s hand and heading for the white limousine waiting at the curb.

Gillian waved with one hand and wiped her eyes with the other
when someone patted her back. She looked over her shoulder. The other guests were dispersing quickly.

Lauren smiled at Gillian, seeming slightly out of breath. “I haven’t had as much fun at a wedding since Kirk and I tied the knot,” she exclaimed.

“I’m glad. Where’s Mo?”

“He said something about
asking the valets to bring our cars around—his and mine. You were so smart to arrange that valet service. For those of us who had to park farther away.”

Gillian nodded.

When Mo joined her, he bowed in Lauren’s direction. “Next time there’s a dance, I’ll alert you. You were a fantastic partner.” He laughed. “Unlike Gillian, who refuses to trip the light fantastic.”

Lauren grinned. “
I’m game if you are.” She turned to Gillian. “There’s my car. I’ll see you tomorrow, neighbor. Time for me to slip out of my shoes and into bed.” She gave Gillian a prolonged hug. “I remember how tired I was after my boys’ weddings. This one was a lovely, too,” she whispered.

Gillian turned to Mo. “Did you talk to
Trudi or Diggy? Know where they’re headed?”

He snorted.
“He said something about going back to the hotel to pack. I think their flight leaves tomorrow, about the same time Quinn and Bianca depart.” His smile told her he suspected Trudi would not be seeing the young couple at the airport.

“Good. That means I
can leave my cell phone at home when I go to yoga tomorrow. I can really use the meditation time.”

“What if Quinn calls?”

“I doubt he’ll bother. Want to take a walk tomorrow afternoon? It’ll give me a perfect excuse to be unavailable should anyone try to reach me.” She gave Mo’s arm a playful poke.

“You are devious, Gillian
Griffiths. Has anyone ever told you that?” Mo opened the car door for her.

“Never.” She chuckled.
She’d kept going the past three days on nervous energy alone, too busy to eat. As she relaxed against the soft leather in Mo’s car, exhaustion pressed her into the seat and she closed her eyes as she leaned her head back. A long walk with Mo would be nice. For now, what she most looked forward to was an uninterrupted night’s sleep. One without dreams of Matt and those feelings she was still struggling to ignore.

The next day Gillian and Mo took off for a walk along the lake. Two hours into their hike, Gillian’s cell phone buzzed against her leg. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the text message. “That was Quinn. He says their flight was perfect and the weather is great.” She slipped her cell phone into her pocket.

“What about Parsnips and the
queen bee?”

Gillian snorted.
“I was wondering if Trudi would try to call, but she never did, so I guess she and Diggy just left.”

Mo chuckled as he shifted his backpack
off his shoulder and pointed toward a cluster of nearby picnic tables. “It’s time we took a break, had lunch, and refilled our water bottles.”

They sat in the warm sun
and ate the sandwiches Gillian had packed that morning.

“You’re a good woman, Gillian. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She gazed at him from behind her sunglasses, glad he couldn’t detect how her eyes misted at his words. “Not in a long while.”
Nick never did.
Funny. It seemed forever since she’d been fired. All the wedding plans and how her life had changed since that day in early spring had succeeded in putting Nick Talmadge out of her mind. Most of the time, anyway.

“
Your boss was a fool. Just like your ex-husband. Losing you like he did.”

“I
never should have married him. But I refused to accept in my heart what my head was telling me. That he would never change, never stop drinking or gambling. And I couldn’t stay with him after he threatened Quinn. I told him I’d call the police if he ever touched Quinn again. Owen packed his bags that night after dinner, told Quinn he had a business trip, and left.”

“
Did Quinn miss his daddy?”

“At first, maybe. After a couple of weeks,
Quinn started asking the usual questions. Would Daddy bring him a new car when he came home? Quinn was into Matchbox cars then. I told him Owen wasn’t going to live with us anymore. At first, he cried, but then one day, he told me he was glad, because he didn’t like Daddy being mean to me.”

“
Owen didn’t contest the divorce?”

“He never even showed
for the hearing.” She brushed the crumbs off her hands and the table and tossed one piece of crust to the birds hopping nearby.

“So he’s out of your life.”

She nodded. “Has been since the day after Quinn’s sixth birthday.”

“He
wasn’t invited to the wedding?”

Gillian looked up. “Didn’t I tell you he died a few years back?”

“No, I guess not.” Mo stood up and carried their trash to the receptacle. “That answers one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Whether you’re still carrying a torch for him.”

“Not in a million years.”

“Gillian, when are you going to find a good man to love you, someone who deserves you, knows what a find you are?”

Mo’s question sent a spear of shock down her spine.
Was he thinking
he
was that man? Matt came to Gillian’s mind, but she forcibly closed a mental door against his image. Matt wasn’t interested in her. Then she thought of Wade, who hadn’t appreciated how she’d pulled away from him. Finn had her several email messages. But she hadn’t replied, and his messages had stopped. He must have concluded she wasn’t worth pursuing. Then horrible Herb from the water-rafting trip swam into her mind’s eye. She shivered at the thought of his cigar-tainted lips on hers. More men in her life in the last several weeks than in years. Funny how that had happened. And Mo, dear Mo.

He
cleared his throat, reminding her he was waiting for an answer.

He was pleasant to be around. He seemed to genuinely care for her. At the wedding rehearsal, he’d stood up to
Trudi, made certain the police hadn’t needed to be called. Quinn had finally relaxed, seemed to like him, trust him. A reaction completely unlike how her son had reacted to the octopus-like Herb, thank goodness. She’d never be able to get serious about any man her son didn’t like. Not that she needed his approval, but still …

Too bad
Mo wasn’t Matt. Maybe Mo hoped she was rethinking who she wanted in her life, now that he’d helped her out at the wedding rehearsal. The dear man deserved an answer. What could she tell him?

“I like spending time with you.” She cleared her throat. “
But—”

“You still have a thing for that man who made you cry
in the park the other day? Or do you have a secret admirer you don’t want anyone to know about?” He grinned at her. “Or maybe you’re thinking, ‘so many men, so little time.’”

He chuckled and the sound rumbled deep in his chest.
“Lauren mentioned that you’d seen one or two people a few weeks back. Ones you met on some website.”

“
Oh. Mostly we just email back and forth.”

Mo
deserved an answer, one she’d been remiss in not giving him weeks ago. She touched his arm, the curls of hair tickling her palm. “I don’t want to jump into a relationship unless I’m really sure.”

He stepped closer to her. “Look, I don’t want to put you on the spot.
But I’ve been alone for a long time. I’m ready to change that situation.” He peered into her eyes, sending her a hopeful message she wanted to ignore and couldn’t reciprocate. Then he looked up at the sky that had taken on a gray patina as the light breeze became stronger, his tone matter-of-fact. “It looks like it’s going to rain, one of those summer squalls the weather channel’s been warning about. You said you owed me a dinner—after that Trudi nonsense. How about tonight?”

Gillian
slowly let out the breath she’d been holding, now that he’d changed the subject. Mo was good for a laugh, always looking on the wry side of life, never taking anything too seriously, except maybe her. But she had to nip this thing he seemed to have for her in the bud.

She
allowed him give her a quick hug. “Dinner sounds nice, and it’ll be my treat, just like I promised. You pick the place.”

They resumed their walk along the edge of the lake
before turning for home.

The next day, Lauren waved for Gillian to take a seat at the table. “Quinn’s wedding was really nice. Was that Mo I saw you with the other day?”

Gillian nodded after a lengthy sip of the herbal tea Lauren had poured. “It was a good walk.
” She twirled her spoon in the tea, debating with herself whether to ask Lauren’s opinion. “Where were you sitting during the wedding?”

“I
grabbed a spot toward the back, on the groom’s side, of course.” Lauren reached for a cracker and covered it with a slice of pepper cheese. “Figured it would be safer to sit there than up close to the war party on the bride’s side.”

“Everyone was minding their p’s and q’s
at the ceremony. Not like at the rehearsal dinner.”