Playing for Keeps (25 page)

“Baby.” He stroked my hair and held me tight. I was a tall woman but my daddy made me feel delicate and petite, he was so big.

I don’t know how long we stood there like that with him comforting me, but eventually my sobs abated to the occasional hiccup.

Daddy waited till I was calmer to say anything. “Do I need to break Pete’s kneecaps?”

“What?” I looked up, startled.

“Pete. Though I hope it’s not him because I like that boy.”

“You
know
?”

“Baby, I knew probably before you did.”

I rolled that over in my mind for a while.

He shook me. “But did he do something to hurt you? Because I’ll have a talk with him.”

For my dad,
talk
was synonymous with beating Pete into the ground. “No, Daddy. It’s all my fault.”

“I have a hard time believing that, baby.”

My dad might be a lot of things, but he was loyal to a fault. It eased my heart knowing he’d stick by me no matter what.

“Whatever the cause, Gracie, I know you’ll fix it.”

“I don’t know.” I remembered the defeated look on Pete’s face and my eyes refilled. “This might be beyond fixing.”

“I have faith in you.” He kissed my forehead and left me to ponder whether I had any faith in myself.

Chapter Twenty

When on surrounded ground, plot. When on deadly ground, fight.

— Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Before I knew it, the week passed and it was the night of the bachelorette party.

That wasn’t true. The week dragged on and on until I was ready to scream. If I had the choice between a week of Chinese water torture and the week I just spent, I’d go for the H2O in a heartbeat.

Forget Nell. Her highs and lows were piddly in the face of everything else. I was so used to her dramatics by this point that I could dismiss them with a casual wave of a hand.

Forget George, who I missed desperately. I couldn’t even ask Nell how he was doing because I was afraid I’d choke up.

Forget Daddy, who was acting oddly. I mean,
quite
oddly. But he was nowhere to be found most of the time so that was easy to overlook too.

Forget Pete, who was giving me the cold shoulder since our argument. Actually, I couldn’t really say he was the one giving me the deep freeze since I hadn’t called him either. I felt wretched—absolutely wretched. Part of me remained adamant that if he couldn’t accept my situation for what it was he didn’t really love me. The other part said I was a complete idiot and that I needed to listen to him.

But I couldn’t deal with Pete this week because I had to deal with the caterer.

I didn’t know how the situation with the caterer deteriorated as it did. One minute everything was cool and the next we were out one wedding dinner and a cake.

Here’s how it went down:

Despite the gray funk I was in because of Pete, I was determined to take care of all the last minute details for the wedding. Sarah and I got together and talked flora—the only bright spot of my week. We designed the arrangements, from around the altar to the bridal bouquets and boutonnières to the tabletops. We made a doable plan of action and were ready to execute. The flowers for the wedding were going to be amazing.

Next on my list was verifying the menu. I knew I was supposed to take care of it before. It wasn’t that I forgot—I was just reluctant to talk to June Cleaver again.

A confrontation
mano a mano
? I didn’t think so. So I called her from work.

Her assistant answered. I was super relieved. At least, I was until she couldn’t find our wedding on her schedule.

“I’m sorry. What was the wedding party name again?”

“Connors/Neill.” I waited patiently, confident she was overlooking it.

“It’s not here.”

“Could I talk to your boss?” I didn’t want to but what choice did I have?

“Sure. Hang on.”

She didn’t have to sound so happy to get rid of me. I tapped my fingers along with the Muzak version of a Dusty Springfield song as I waited.

“Yes?”

I recognized her voice, but it was even cooler than I remembered.

I reminded myself that we were paying her a fortune for a service and that she should have shown a little customer appreciation. So I put some haughtiness in my tone. “Your company is catering my sister’s wedding, and I’m calling to go over the menu.”

“The name?”

“Connors/Neill.”

If her voice was cool before, now it was downright chilly. “We are not catering that wedding, as I said several months ago.”

They weren’t? She did? “I’m not sure I understand. When did this happen?”

“When that—that—
harridan
kept calling to change the menu.”

Uh-oh. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew who June was talking about. “What happened exactly?”

“I do not mind changes in the menu, but I will
not
tolerate alterations on a daily basis, and I do
not
do roast pigs.”

Fawn.

I tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. “I’m very sorry about her. We should have—” What? Muzzled her? I didn’t know what to say.

So I tried a different track. “We loved everything you’d decided on, and we’d be happy to have you prepare anything you’d like.” I cringed, imagining a platter of liver, but beggars couldn’t be picky.

“No,” she said succinctly.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?” I wasn’t beyond groveling at this point.

The silence was deafening.

“But it’s two weeks before the wedding. How are we supposed to get another caterer?” I pressed fingers to my twitching eyelid.

“That isn’t my problem. Besides, we’ve booked another event for the same evening.”

Her smugness made me want to spit, preferably on her.

“If that’s all, I have petit fours I need to get back to. Ta.” She hung up.

I gaped at the receiver. How dare she hang up on me? Worse—where was I going to find a caterer at the last minute?

And the cake
. Could you even have a wedding without cake?

I sat at my desk for about fifteen minutes and tried not to hyperventilate.

Think
. What would Mom do?

Well, Mom would never have gotten into this situation. In fact, June would have begged her for the pleasure of catering the wedding.

Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I moaned. “I’m so screwed.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

I looked up with a scowl. Chloe leaned in the doorway, her backpack over her shoulder and a grin on her face. “This is no time to be cute. We have a crisis.”

“I can’t help being cute, and we can deal with the crisis.” She sauntered in and dropped into a chair. “What’s going on?”

“We have no caterer for the wedding.” I waited for the sky to fall on my head.

Chloe frowned. “But didn’t Nell hire that famous caterer?”

“She quit.”

“Two weeks before the wedding? What a bitch.”

I didn’t bother to mention that she quit a few months ago or Fawn’s part in the fiasco.

“But it’s no problem.”

I didn’t find her youthful optimism charming. “Yes, it’s a huge problem.”

“No it’s not.” She reclined in the chair until her butt was perched on the very edge of the seat and her legs stretched out in front of her. “I have a friend who just dropped out of culinary school to start a catering company. He’ll do it. He needs business.”

“I don’t know.” I envisioned Chloe’s friend, the culinary dropout, and vigorously shook my head. “I’ll pass.”

“You have no choice. The wedding’s in two weeks. Who are you going to get to do it on such short notice?”

She had me there.

“Damon rocks in the kitchen.” She smirked, a wicked glint lighting her eyes. “Trust me on that one.”

I didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “He’s a great cook, reliable since he stopped smoking so much pot, and he’ll give us a deal. Plus you’ll be doing a good deed by helping launch his business.”

“How about if I call a couple places and if no one’s free we’ll go with him?” I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this Damon as an option.

“It’s your call, but he may be booked if you don’t act on it right away.”

My damn eyelid jerked violently. “Does he do cakes?”

“Sure.”

I closed my eyes and took the plunge. “Fine. Call him.”

“I knew you’d see the light. I’ll take care of everything.” She jumped up and headed out the door.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I’m teaching Daddy’s munchkin class this afternoon. I’ll call Damon while I change.” She waved and bounced out.

I moaned and thumped my head against the desk. “What have I done?”

But Damon called me the next day and he sounded capable. Surprisingly capable. I felt reassured, and even positive, after our conversation.

Riley said he’d handle the rehearsal dinner so, with the caterer situation resolved, the only thing left on my plate was the bachelorette party.

Being the maid of honor wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

But the bachelorette party wasn’t going to require much on my part. I rented a limo, so we wouldn’t have to draw straws over who’d be the designated driver, and picked the bar where we’d start the evening. Beyond that, what was there to plan?

Except for what to wear, which was really hard to decide on when all you wanted to do is to crawl under your covers and mope.

Now that the food crisis was taken care of, Pete loomed large in my mind. I missed him. I missed his hot kisses and the way he touched me. I missed the naughty things he’d whisper in my ear and the reverent way he undressed me. But what I missed most was hanging out and talking. And laughing.

I almost wished something else would go wrong just so I’d have something to think about other than the way Pete walked away from me.

Anyway, Saturday night Celeste found me in front of my closet, in my underwear, pouting.

“Nice outfit.” She draped herself on my bed, reclining on her elbows. “That’ll definitely get you some action tonight.”

“I want no action.” I pulled out a pair of pants and immediately put it back. Not it. How would Nell feel if I wore my pjs? “I wonder if there are any chocolate covered strawberries left.”

“Oh, no.” Celeste eyed me. “What’s wrong?”

I picked up a pair of shoes that were in my way and hurled them to the far corner of the closet. “What makes you think there’s anything wrong?”

“My sixth sense.”

I rolled my eyes.

“What happened? Did you and Pete have a spat?”

“There is no ‘me and Pete.’” My heart cracked at that bit of truth.

Celeste sat up, alert, a frown pursing her lips. “What do you mean?”

“Which part was difficult to understand?” I knew it was unfair to take out my pissiness on her but I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, shit, Gracie. What have you done?”

I scowled at her. “Why does it have to be something
I’ve
done? Why can’t it be him?”

She arched a brow and waited.

“It wasn’t me.” I shoved some clothes aside, the hangers screeching. “I thought Pete would understand. I have a duty to my family. I have to be available to them. But, you know, Pete’s just like everyone else.”

“Everyone else like…? Who, Grace? Kevin?”

I wanted to say
yes
but I couldn’t compare Pete to Kevin (that jerk). That wouldn’t have been fair.

I felt Celeste’s hand on my shoulder. “Gracie, just tell me what happened.”

I let her guide me to the bed, where I plopped down in a dejected heap. “He gave me an ultimatum and I told him that wouldn’t work for me. So he left.”

Celeste frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Pete. What kind of ultimatum?”

“He wanted to come out of the closet.”

“He’s gay?”

“
No
.” In any other circumstance I would have laughed at how her eyes goggled. “He wanted to tell people that we’re dating. That we
were
dating.”

“And you weren’t down with that?”

“Of course not.” I shook my head. “I told him that, but all he could say was that he wanted to scream to the world that I was his.”

I sat in misery, waiting for Celeste to say something. When she didn’t, I felt compelled to defend myself. “I just wanted to keep our relationship a secret a little while longer. I don’t want to take the limelight from Nell.”

“Right.” Instead of looking sympathetic, she looked like she wanted to gag.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Grace, I’m totally on your side. That’s why I’m going to tell you this.” She leaned closer to me. “You’re an idiot.”

“
What
?”

She nodded. “You heard me. You’re completely stupid. Dumb. A dolt—”

“Okay, I get the picture.” I glared at her. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Fine, I will. I can’t believe you. Here’s a handsome, smart, funny guy who’s head over heels for you and you want to hide it. And how cool is it that he wants to scream to the world that you’re his?” She shook her head. “I wish someone felt that way about me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do. You’re afraid.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. This is classic Grace posturing. You’re afraid to give yourself to something you feel so passionate about because you’re afraid you’ll lose it. You did it with Kevin, though he was an asshole so it was a good thing. You did it with your dream of owning a flower shop, and you’re doing it with Pete.”

“No—”

“
Yes
. You can’t retreat from life just because you were devastated once.”

“My family—”

“Doesn’t need you anymore, Grace.” Celeste grabbed my hand in a death grip. “Do you think your mom would like seeing you trash your life like this?”

I closed my eyes to try to block out her words but it was too late. No, Mom wouldn’t have liked seeing me push Pete away. And I recognized the grain of truth in what Celeste was saying, but it didn’t change the fact that if Pete really loved me, he would have been more tolerant.