Married by June (10 page)

After she was gone, he sat at his desk. Well, it wasn’t his desk anymore, but he’d spent an awful lot of time working there when he was a kid. He wrote the speech in longhand because he always thought better with a pen than a keyboard. The whole time he heard Jorie’s voice in his head, wondering why it was Theo’s turn now and not his. If they’d offered him the job, would he have taken it? He hadn’t even considered that possibility before today.

He didn’t want to be a senator. He knew where his talents lay. They were with pen and ink, papers
and imagination. The day-to-day grind of legislation and committees would kill him. Still, he wondered why they hadn’t asked. They simply assumed that he would do what he was told for the good of the family, and they were right. But what did that say about him?

When Theo was elected and he stepped aside, what would be waiting for him?

T
HE NEXT DAY,
Jorie waited outside the Wish Team offices for Cooper to arrive. She would have gone in by herself, if the appointment had been anywhere but here, where everything was so tied to memories of her mom. She didn’t want to face it alone.

Cooper came around the corner, his walk strong and sexy, and she immediately felt better. There was only one person left in the world who knew how much the Wish Registry meant to her mom, and now that he was here, she could have this meeting.

M
IRIAM JENNINGS WAS THE
senior gifts coordinator at the Wish Team. Once Jorie and Cooper decided to donate their gifts and Chelsea had dreamed up the registry, she’d been brought in to consult with them and mesh their wedding gift registry with the tenth anniversary celebration.

After Chelsea could no longer help, Miriam and Jorie had spent endless hours attempting to match donations to wishes. Miriam’s cramped office with the untidy metal desk was as unpretentious as she
was, and although Chelsea had at first been put off by the lack of glamour, she and Jorie both had come to have enormous respect for the earnest, creative, and resourceful Miriam. To say the coordinator was disappointed that they were postponing their wedding was an understatement.

Miriam was devastated. Her lovely apple-pink cheeks and bouncy black curls actually seemed to deflate. “We’ve received over a hundred and fifty gifts already,” she said. “We’ll have to give them all back.”

Jorie was sympathetic. She’d felt that same panic and loss when she first started thinking about the registry after Cooper broke up with her, but they’d come up with a solution. Miriam had nothing to worry about.

“We don’t think so. Cooper’s written up a notice we can send out to everyone, letting them know that even though the wedding is on hold, we’re hoping they’ll still fulfill the wishes now, when they’re needed.”

Miriam didn’t look any less worried.

“There might be a few people who pull out,” Jorie rushed to reassure her, “but Cooper’s parents have agreed to fund any lost wishes. We are committed to making this happen.”

Cooper had a copy of the note printed up and he passed it across the desk to Miriam. He looked
uncomfortable, too tall for the small folding chair he sat in. Jorie was positive the note would be a winner. He’d struck just the right balance between letting folks know they weren’t under any obligation to fufil their pledge and clearly stating the some poor person who was looking forward to receiving their wish would be horribly let down if they didn’t.

Miriam shook her head. “You don’t understand, Jorie. You haven’t said it in so many words, but I live in Washington. It’s obvious Cooper’s running for his brother’s Senate seat. We can’t take these donations now, not if he’s a candidate for office.” She pulled a tissue out of the box on the corner of her desk. “I was so afraid this was why you called the meeting. Crap.”

Hearing Miriam use such a word was a shock. That she’d quickly guessed what was behind their postponement was another shock. She looked so convinced the whole registry was a no-go that Jorie felt sick to her stomach. She hoped her mom wasn’t looking down on this meeting.

“Nobody said I’m running for anything,” Cooper objected.

Miriam shrugged. “So tell me you’re not.”

“I respect you too much to lie to you, Miriam,” he said. “But please, it’s vital that the assumptions you’ve made today don’t leave this office.”

“We’re under the confidentiality clause. Any
conversation I have with donors over the circumstances and timing of their gifts is private and remains that way.”

“And speculation about my brother?”

“Is rampant. It’s Washington, Cooper, and he’s Bailey Murphy. But everything we’re talking about here is confidential and will stay that way.” Miriam dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t believe the timing. I just can’t.”

“I don’t understand.” Jorie had gotten lost somewhere around the time Miriam started crying.

“There are rules about donations,” Cooper said, his voice subdued. “I should have remembered. If people give me gifts now that I’m going to be appointed, they all have to be reported and counted. If they were regular wedding gifts, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but some of the wishes cost too much. They won’t be allowed at all because of who donated them. Crap.”

And now Cooper was using vulgar expressions in front of Miriam? It was as if the world was ending right here in front of her eyes.

“No,” Jorie said. “We’re having the Wish Registry.” She felt like stomping her foot. “This registry is my mom’s legacy. Our wedding was her wish and you filling it was a huge joy to her, Miriam, you know that. But the registry is going to touch people. It’s going to let my mom’s spirit live on, the part of
her that wanted everyone she knew to be happy. My mom’s idea will help people. I’m not letting it end before it even really gets started. My mom deserves this to go ahead.”

Miriam handed her a tissue even though she was too angry to cry.

“Jorie, there are laws,” Cooper said. “It’s not possible—”

“No,” she said again. “Miriam, if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to Cooper outside.”

“Everything you say is confidential,” Miriam reminded her, but Jorie shook her head. This wasn’t about confidentiality, it was about her jumping out of her skin if she couldn’t get up and move around while she figured this mess out.

Cooper had the door open for her and he followed her down the hall, easily keeping pace with her angry strides. Outside the building, she took a left and detoured around a group of teenage girls with shopping bags and cell phones before she ducked into the parking lot.

“I’m sorry if I sound like a two-year-old,” she began, “but I’m not listening to ‘not possible’ or ‘can’t’ or anything else that means this Wish Registry isn’t going to happen. Enough of my life is caught up in the Murphy family political sideshow. My mom’s registry is not going to fall prey to it.” His silence during the walk from Miriam’s office
hadn’t been encouraging and his expression now looked more unhappy than anything else. She felt her initial anger slipping into despair. She couldn’t lose everything her mother had wanted, could she? So she said something she knew was a low blow. “She trusted you.”

He blinked. For Cooper, this was probably worse than being hit. He knew very well what it meant when she said her mom had trusted him. Chelsea had spent her life making one bad bet after another when it came to men. Her very last bet had been in Jorie’s name, on Cooper. How could he, the born romantic, stand to let Chelsea down again?

“I don’t want to hear one more word about laws. We’re not dummies, Cooper. You put your heart to work and I’ll put my mind to work and we’ll solve this.”

He didn’t say anything right away. She stared at him and he stared back. He didn’t look angry about the verbal blow, though. He seemed to be considering her. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we’ll find a way.” He spoke softly, but his words were clear.

“A real way? A solution, not a dream that won’t come true?”

He pulled his leather notebook out of his pocket and his fountain pen was suddenly in his hand. He
started to write, his hand moving fast as he scribbled one-word thoughts on the page. “You said you want your mom’s spirit to live on. So what does that mean?”

“The people who get the wishes—they’ll know she inspired the donors.”

He didn’t look up from the notebook, but prompted her. “Right. But think bigger. Remember when we talked to your mom about registering for real gifts and she told us there were no limits because people get sappy and sentimental about weddings and spend too much money on candlesticks and saltshakers.”

“But we didn’t want saltshakers.”

“Which made her mad until she thought of the Registry.”

“Right. Cooper, I know all this. What are you thinking?”

“Why stop with our wedding? I mean, we’re inviting a couple hundred people and that’s a couple hundred wishes, but what if your mom’s spirit carried on independent of our wedding.”

“You mean, a permanent Wish Registry? Open it up to other brides?”

Cooper made one last note and capped his pen. He turned the notebook so Jorie could see the words he’d written across the top of the page. “The Chelsea Burke Wish Registry.”

“That’s brilliant!”

Her mom would have wanted to kiss him. Miriam, who kissed people as often as she handed them tissues, was definitely not going to let him out of the office again today without laying one on him. Jorie wanted to kiss him, but he had turned the notebook back around to write something else.

Look now, Mom,
she thought.
He’s doing it again.

When Cooper led with his heart, he was unstoppable.

Jorie put her hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to her. “You’re amazing.” She opened her mouth and took his lips, needing to tell him just how wonderful he was, wanting to be closer to him so he’d know how she felt. He fumbled with his pocket, putting the notebook away, and then she was folded into his arms and they were making out in the parking lot of the Wish Team.

Maybe this was a sign that she wasn’t making a mistake in giving them another chance.

When they got back inside, Miriam tidied away her used tissues while they explained their idea. Miriam would investigate whether she could set up a new registry in Chelsea’s memory, one that would start accepting gifts as soon as possible. They would send out their notice asking the wedding guests who’d already signed up to fulfill their
wish to pledge through the new registry. Cooper was positive his mom and dad would be able to scare up a donation or even some grant money to get the project properly launched. Jorie would reach out to business owners she knew in the bridal industry to spread the word. If Miriam wanted help designing a promotional campaign, Jorie would be more than happy to come in and help.

Miriam not only kissed Cooper, she kissed Jorie. All in all, it felt like a perfect day.

B
AILEY’S RESIGNATION WAS
over almost before Cooper registered that it had started. His brother stood on the steps of the Capitol and spoke the words Cooper had written. How many times had he witnessed this very same scene over the years?

There were some differences, of course. The press crowd was much bigger than normal, even by Bailey’s standards. Jill was front and center behind him, but she wasn’t smiling. Cooper thought she must have practiced her expression because she managed to look terribly sorry, terribly stricken, and terribly beautiful all at the same time. She even shed a few tears although not enough to mar her makeup.

It had been decided that his mom and dad wouldn’t come. The few hints they’d gotten from the governor’s office said he was getting push back from some of the party folks about nepotism. The
Murphys were powerful and they had enemies. Better to keep Nolan and Rachel out of sight today. Theo wasn’t mentioned at all.

Jorie wasn’t there either. Not that she’d ever attended a political speech before, but in the past two days, he’d gotten used to thinking about her as part of his team. He missed her.

It was late when they finally finished all of the meetings and memos and sound bites and his dad agreed they could knock off for the night. Bailey called a cab and he and Theo stood in the front hall, waiting for it to arrive. Nolan had told Bailey he had to avoid Deb’s place entirely for the next couple days, until the appointment came through for Cooper.

He should head home with them. He had a million things to do tomorrow, but he couldn’t make himself go.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said.

“Please tell me you’re not going back to the office,” Theo said.

“What do you care if he’s a workaholic?” Bailey asked.

“He’s making me look bad,” Theo complained.

“I’m not going to the office,” Cooper said, hoping to cut off the discussion. “I’m going to walk.”

“It’s a forty-minute walk back to your place,” Theo said.

“I’m not going back to my place,” Cooper answered as he went out the door. The cab pulled up and his brother and cousin followed him outside.

“Going to see Jorie?” Bailey asked.

Cooper nodded.

“How is she doing?”

“Good. Really good.”

The cab pulled away and Cooper headed in the opposite direction. It had been a long day and the only thing he wanted to do was find Jorie and talk to her. Somehow in the past two days, he’d found himself turning to her. For the first time ever, he had someone in the family business who was entirely on his side and he liked it.

S
HE WATCHED THE RESIGNATION
on TV, and even though the cameras stayed focused on Bailey most of the time, Jorie was constantly on edge waiting for them to pan out so she could see Cooper. He stood behind Bailey and off to one side, the wind stroking through his brown hair, tousling it. The speech was good. Bailey sounded strong but penitent. She left the news on while she straightened up and dusted. She avoided her office. She hadn’t had a call in days and she suspected the Richfords were telling their story all over town. There was money left in her checking account for now, though, and she hadn’t been able to force herself to pick up the phone or
head onto Facebook or do one single bit of promotion for herself.

The pundits and announcers were not shocked by Bailey’s speech. There’d been rumors for a few days and it took more than a mostly discreet affair, a resignation and a pending divorce to shock Washington. Mostly they were dissecting the speech, looking for clues about his successor. Governor Karloski’s office released a statement saying it was working on the appointment.

Cooper’s name came up over and over. She liked the picture the news networks showed. He was wearing a suit, but his tie was loosened and his smile was confident. She wondered if Rachel knew where the picture came from. Maybe she could get a copy.

About thirty minutes into the coverage her name was mentioned. The announcer called her a Washington business owner and daughter of the recently deceased socialite Chelsea Burke. They ran a picture of her mom with Curtis, the guy who’d wanted to send Jorie to boarding school, and she clicked off the TV. She needed some things for breakfast and it would do her good to get out for a while. She put her cell in her pocket. She wasn’t expecting Cooper to call, but he might.