Save the Date (14 page)

“Have you met me?” Lucy jerked her hand from his and stood. “I
stink
at this! Alex, maybe we need to cut our losses now. You find yourself some trophy lady, and I—”

“You’ll what?” Alex pulled himself to his full height and towered over her. “Don’t bail on me now. You need my money, and I need—”

“My ability to stab waiters? My impressive knack for destroying priceless art?”

She stomped away, but he caught her in two strides and hauled her to him. Anger sparked in those eyes she had trained on him like crossbows. “Don’t bail on me. Not now. I have way too much at stake.” It was everything to him.

Lucy stared at his hands, then back at his face. She smelled like pancakes and looked like a displaced nursery rhyme character. “How many people are we talking at this party?”

“Hundreds.”

“Am I going to hate it?”

He dragged his eyes away from her pink lips. “Most assuredly.”

Lucy nodded once, coming to some decision in her head. “If I don’t get Matt back when this is over, I will never forgive myself.”

“Understood.”

“And I will relentlessly harass you and make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

Alex reached for her hand as his car came into view. “Lucy Wiltshire, I do believe you’re sounding like my wife already.”

Chapter Fourteen

S
ometimes the sight of a church could bring immediate peace and contentment, as if to say,
God is going to meet you here
.

Today was not one of those days.

As Lucy got out of her car, the red brick building looked imposing, mad. She felt like a hypocrite for even following the sidewalk that pointed to the sanctuary doors.
Hey, I’m lying to the world. Praise the Lord
.

Steeples poked through the clouds in the Charleston skyline like arrows to heaven. A church could be found on nearly every corner, which meant Lucy couldn’t drive a block without seeing Guilt in her faded passenger seat. She had always been the good girl. The one to toe the line and do the right thing. And now look at her. She was walking the tightrope of depravity and about to fall right over. But every time she thought of backing out, she saw the faces of her girls from Saving Grace.

She did her third double take as she walked away from the dusty car. As she had navigated the highway, she’d thought for a moment a red sedan was following her. To be with Alex meant paparazzi everywhere, and paranoia was quickly becoming her new best friend—right after lipstick, which she was constantly applying. Photos could be so brutal. Like in this morning’s Sunday paper. A big unflattering picture of her at the art center, caught just as she had brought down the expensive painting. And of course it had been accompanied by an article about her humble background. Obviously it had been a slow week if a reporter had to resort to that. But it stung. And Lucy hadn’t even finished her oatmeal before she knew it was time for drastic action— no matter the cost.

Chuck greeted her at the door. “Welcome, sister. Glad you’re here.”

She laughed. “No jeans today?”

He tugged at the tie below his lopsided collar as Morgan came to stand beside him. “Pastor’s sick. I’m filling in.”

“Nervous?” Lucy asked.

He wiped his sweating brow. “It’s quite possible I peed my pants thirty minutes ago.”

“He’s going to do great,” Morgan said, patting Chuck’s arm.

“Yeah, I hope I remember how to preach to a crowd older than sixteen.” He waved to another friend. “It’s okay to use the word ‘dude’ in prayer, right?”

Lucy smiled. Chuck was so good at what he did, but his confidence had yet to catch up to his ability. “Hey, do you guys want to grab lunch afterward? Hang out—talk?” She had yet to process Clare Deveraux’s revelation. She wanted to share it with her friends and get their insight. And sympathy.

“We can’t,” Morgan said. “I’ve finally talked him into registering at the mall.”

Chuck greeted a passing couple. “Is it bad etiquette to ask for a new Guitar Hero?”

“Okay. Maybe later.” Talking would have to wait. “Good luck in there.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Morgan tilted her head and gave Lucy a questioning stare. “There’s someone waiting for you.”

Lucy looked beyond Chuck into the sanctuary. There on the tenth row sat Alex Sinclair. “Huh.”

“Yeah, I said the same thing.” Morgan frowned. “Lucy, what is going on with you two?”

Lucy shrugged. “Pretty much what it looks like.” Minus a few glaring details.

“So you’re serious? I mean, I know we haven’t gotten to hang out much lately, but
him
? And
you
?”

“Yes.” Lucy’s voice was a dry monotone. “He’s everything I could want and more.”

Morgan wasn’t buying it. “And you couldn’t tell me the two of you have been dating?”

“Look,” Chuck said, “we think you’re worthy of the best man on the planet—you know that. But Alex Sinclair—the Playboy? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He spoke in a whispered hush. “I might be a pastor, but if he messes with you, I will run my light saber right through his black heart, you got that?”

“I care about him. He’s actually not a bad guy once you get to know him.”

“What about Matt?” Morgan asked.

He had yet to return Lucy’s phone calls, and that only added to the yarn ball of stress in her stomach. “Let’s just discuss this later.”

Morgan shook her dark head and leaned closer to Lucy. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I want the truth. So as soon as I wrap up some of these wedding details, you and I are going to have a nice long chat.”

“I’d better go. Alex is waiting for me.”

She walked down the aisle, slipped past Alex and into the empty seat beside him.

“Saving this?” she asked.

“Yes. For my girlfriend.” He smiled, revealing a dimple in his cheek. “You can sit there until she arrives, but don’t be surprised if I get handsy during ‘I Surrender All.’” His arm curved over the back of her chair. “That song does something to me every time.”

“So what are you doing?” she asked.

“Going to church.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Sunday.”

“Is this about your image?”

Something in those dark chocolate eyes shifted. “Believe what you want.”

She watched him for a moment, not sure what to make of his appearance. “Well, I’m not sharing my Bible.”

The frat boy grin returned. “I have my own.”

“Precious Moments?”

He smiled at the couple taking seats in front of them. “I hope you get your man-hating issues taken care of before our wedding. I can’t live with this abuse for fifty years.” He leaned closer, and she had to remind herself to breathe. The laughter left his eyes as he studied her. “How are you this morning? Have you had any more communication with Clare?”

She didn’t know what to do with the concern she saw in his face. Sarcasm and animosity she was comfortable with. But this fledgling friendship they were building? Terrifying. “She’s called a few times. But I haven’t picked up. I’ll get cotillion lessons from someone else.”

“I meant about your dad.”

“I can’t even think about that now.” Lucy watched Chuck take the pulpit. “But I am strangely glad you’re here. I just hope lightning doesn’t strike our row or anything.”

“For your information, I was raised in a church. I took first place in Bible drills in the fifth grade.”

Her lips shifted into an easy smile. “Really?”

He nodded. “I got a medal and everything.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I got caught kissing Emily Fletcher behind the oak tree of Trinity Methodist, and Pastor Hamby took back my award.”

“You were totally robbed.”

Alex tugged on one of her curls. “Anything for a girl.”

She had to turn away from the warmth in that million-dollar smile. The guy was getting under her skin.

Yesterday had been quite an eye-opener. Watching him in his office fielding phone calls, holding a staff meeting, planning next week’s commercial shoots. She had expected to find Alex just going through the motions of the campaign—letting others do the heavy lifting. But the only thing he hadn’t weighed in on was lunch. That had been his sister Finley’s job. He was quite the big brother to her. How many times had Lucy caught him sharing a joke with his sister or praising Finley for helping make phone calls? And in the midst of it all, he had shown Lucy around, taken the time to introduce her to everyone on his staff. Like she was a part of his team. A member of Alex Sinclair’s inner circle.

And now he was leaning into her side like any boyfriend would. One who wasn’t a hoax for political gains. One who wasn’t paying her to date him. But if she closed her eyes, it was almost real. She could imagine her heart wasn’t breaking over Matt. It was too easy to step into this fantasy they were creating—that Alex was someone who cared about her. Who could comfort her in this confusing time of paternity bombshells and social suicide.

Chuck’s voice permeated her wandering thoughts. “In First Peter God says it’s time to be on alert. The devil prowls around, looking for our weakness. Do you know when we are at our weakest?”

At rich people parties
, Lucy thought.

“We are such easy prey when we’re broken down like an old truck on the side of the road,” Chuck said. “When life has knocked you to your knees, and you have no idea how you’re going to fix it. When your brain is consumed with hurt . . . and all the solutions you’ve come up with are filling up your head.”

Beside her Alex scribbled notes on the back of the church bulletin. His hand covered up the page, and she couldn’t make out what he had written. Probably another one of his endless agendas.

“God tells us to get humble. To run to him and just say, ‘Take care of me. Take the decision-making out of my hands.’” The pinstriped shirt stretched taut across Chuck’s ample belly as he held up his Bible. “He promises to lift us up in due time. He says, ‘After you’ve suffered for a while, I’m gonna pull you right out, and you’re going to be stronger than ever.’”

If the Lord let Lucy dawdle in her misery any longer, she was going to be strong enough to lift a house. She was that misfit teenager again. It was a fine time for God to point out she wasn’t any more delivered from the old securities at thirty than she had been at sixteen.

“Guys”—Chuck let his eyes fall on everyone in the worship center—“we gotta stay tough. We have to stay in the Word and on our knees in prayer. Are you going through something?”

Yes, a fake engagement. Anyone else?

“Now is not the time to shrink back. Satan wants you to quit and run away. But the Lord tells us to face our problems bravely, because just like a young David facing his Goliath, we’ve got God on our side. He is our defense and our refuge. Does life seem unfair right now? Well, just hang on,” Chuck said. “Because your breakthrough is coming—for those who are courageous enough to wait it out.”

With the swishing lull of the ceiling fans overhead, Lucy’s mind wandered over her years in Charleston. It was like a play with two distinct acts. There was her miserable growing-up years, forced to attend that stupid private school. Her mother passing away. Then there was Lucy’s return three summers ago when she had been bent on coming back and proving to herself she could be someone in this town. Yet all she had proven to anyone watching was that she couldn’t adequately run a nonprofit.

And now these new developments. If Clare was telling the truth, her mother had lied to her. With no intentions of ever telling her about her real father. Clare’s belief that Steven Deveraux was her dad was preposterous, but yet there were holes in her mother’s stories about the man Lucy had presumed to be her father. Lucy had been raised on lies, and her mother had taken the truth with her.

“What is it that’s defeating you today? That keeps you up at night and makes you want to give up?” Chuck paced the length of the altar. “Are you ready to let God be your champion? Give him all your confusion, your worry, your past. And just let it go. Do not go one more day living in fear of defeat. We are
more
than conquerors.” Not even the toddler two rows up made a peep as Chuck surveyed the room. “Let’s pray.”

As Lucy lowered her head, she caught sight of the bulletin in Alex’s lap. His brother’s name was in blue ink at the top. Beneath it indecipherable fragments that clearly meant something to Alex in regard to Will. In an adjacent column, a list of points from Chuck’s sermon.

Lord, I lift up Alex to you. Help him in his grief with his brother and with the campaign. And father, give me answers. I need to know if everything I believed about my birth has been a lie. I’m not exactly deserving in the truth department at the moment, but I’m asking anyway. I have to get this settled. And yes, God, I’m going to go ahead and be bold and ask for the strength to do what needs to be done to be the best fake fiancée Alex could have. I’m through being the weakling
.

At least for today
.

At Chuck’s amen, the choir took over and sang everyone out. Alex slid his warm hand to the base of Lucy’s neck as they walked outside.

“Good service.” He shook Chuck’s hand.

“Thanks, man. Come back anytime.” Chuck dropped his preacher voice. “But if you hurt Lucy, I will be honor-bound to break both your kneecaps.”

Alex had more muscle in his right tricep than Chuck had in his entire body, yet he nodded solemnly anyway. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Alex, can I have your autograph?” Mrs. Baker’s ten-year-old son stood holding a pen and notebook. Five of his friends stood behind him, looking as if they beheld a king.

“Sure, guys.” Sending a sheepish grin to Lucy, Alex signed two bulletins, one hat, two notebooks, and a gum wrapper.

He didn’t just hurriedly scribble his name, though. He looked at each boy, asked questions, chatted. Made them all feel important. Like they were the stars instead of him. She found herself smiling.

He wasn’t supposed to be charming. He wasn’t supposed to be intelligent and funny and kind to little boys.
Say something arrogant. Refuse to take a picture
. Lucy was seeing more and more of the workings of Alex’s heart. And it left her unsettled. No, she would not be taken in by this man. Not today and not ever. The last two days she had enjoyed her time with him. And that just couldn’t happen.