Stand-In Groom (36 page)

When he hadn’t heard from her—or anyone else in her family— by Thursday, he decided to take matters under his own control again. Forbes’s secretary ushered him into the large office.

The dark look on the lawyer’s face told George everything he needed to know. “She told you her side of the story?”

“Her side? She told me what happened, yes. And to think I trusted you not to hurt her.”

“It’s all a horrible misunderstanding.” George paced the width of the room. “She overheard a conversation I had with my brother. He and I were joking around. I would never consider marrying Anne for a business partnership or a green card.”

Forbes nodded, his blue-gray eyes piercing. “Really?”

“Really!” He threw his hands up. “What do I have to do to convince you people?”

“Go home.” The words were growled more than said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You want to prove to Anne you don’t want to marry her just for a green card? Go back to England. Prove you love her and not
just the idea of staying in the States.”

He sank into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. “Go home? I don’t have a home to go to.” If Henry’s apartment hadn’t sublet yet…

Forbes was right. He had to regroup, show Anne it was her, not this place, not her business, that he loved. “All right. I’ll go back to England.”

Forbes’s expression neutralized. “I’ll help you take care of things on this end—liquidating your assets, transferring accounts.”

“Thanks.” George stood and offered his hand. “Thanks for everything. Tell Anne…”

Forbes nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

On his way out, his phone beeped. “George Laurence here.”

“Hi, George,” Courtney’s voice chimed through the line.

“Hello, Miss—Mrs. Ballantine. How may I be of assistance?”

“George, Cliff is going to have to cut his trip short. They need him on the movie set earlier than they thought. He wants you to meet me in Paris this weekend.
We’re going to buy a villa!
”

He needed something to pay the bills while he tried to convince Anne. While this wouldn’t be as grand a gesture as resigning and returning to England to live in squalor while waiting, it would serve his purpose.

“Very good, ma’am. I’ll make flight arrangements this afternoon.”

T
he light clink of silver against china and the din of hushed voices reminded George of his very first meeting with Forbes. As a farewell, his friend had suggested dinner at Palermo’s, bringing everything full circle.

“I’ve closed up the house. Mama Ketty will check in every few weeks.” Emotion threatened to close George’s throat.

“I’ll take care of adjusting her contract. When does your flight leave?”

“Sunday afternoon at three, with layovers in Memphis and Atlanta.” He pulled a copy of the itinerary out of his attaché. “Here’s the schedule. I’ve given Henry your number in the event of an emergency.”

Forbes gave the schedule only a cursory glance before folding it and sticking it in his suit-coat pocket. “Six months is a long time. When I said to take time to prove your love for her, I didn’t mean
that
long.”

“I know. But maybe the distance will be good for us.” He grinned wryly. “And I do have all that vacation time I never take. I can be back in a trice if she decides she’s ready.”

Forbes chuckled. “She’ll miss you, George. She probably does already.”

“I hope so.” He handed his friend an envelope. “Can you give her this for me? I had to at least try to explain before I left.”

“She’ll come around. We’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re not going to interfere, are you?”

“
Interfere
is such a negative word, my friend. Think of it as encouraging her to reconsider her hasty and emotionally motivated actions.”

Somehow, that didn’t make George feel better. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You realize I’m just doing this because Meredith and Jennifer have already planned your wedding, and I hate to disappoint my sisters, right?”

“Right. Tell them thanks for me.”

“Will do.”

For the first time in his life, George didn’t want to leave a place. He had friends—no, family—who loved him. He’d made a life here in a few short months. He’d started to dream of building his future here. His happiness resided in Bonneterre, Louisiana… because Anne would never get on an airplane to go anywhere else. “Tell Maggie and Errol…” He shrugged, unable to continue. They’d welcomed him into their home and treated him like a son.

“I will.”

When they parted, George barely managed to hold his emotions in check. Forbes dropped him off at the hotel where he’d stay until he took the shuttle to the airport in two days. As soon as he entered the room, he hit his knees, begging God to change her mind.

8

“Miss Anne, are you okay?” The bride turned, her wedding gown swishing with the hidden whisper of the multiple petticoats holding out the bell skirt.

Anne dabbed the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “I’m okay. You look so beautiful.”

The young woman rested her hand on Anne’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything. I know it has to be hard with your breakup and all….” She bit her bottom lip.

Anne swallowed back new tears. “You’re welcome, honey. Now
there’s a wonderful young man waiting in that sanctuary for you. Let’s get you married.”

As she had every night for the past week, Anne cried herself to sleep Saturday night. Sunday, she woke up with a migraine, gave in to her self-pity, and stayed in bed. Why had she been so stupid and let George walk away? She hadn’t heard the entire conversation. What if he had just been joking around with his brother? After all, George’s dry sense of humor was one of the things she loved most about him. The least she could have done was let him explain.

Her anger that night had quickly melted into embarrassment, embarrassment into shame that kept her hiding out, avoiding everyone, including Forbes, Meredith, and Jenn. Tomorrow she’d work up the courage to call George to beg his forgiveness. But she needed one more day to prepare herself.

Shortly after noon, a familiar pounding started on her door.

“Go away!”

The unmistakable rasp of a key in the dead bolt followed. “Annie?”

She pulled her pillow over her head. The bed bounced and gave beside her. “Go away,” she moaned.

“No. Enough of this already.” Meredith pulled the pillow off her head. “We’re tired of you moping around just because you’re stupid enough to let the best thing that ever happened to you walk out the door.”

Jenn pulled down the covers. “You’re going to get up, get dressed, and go with us down to Riverwalk for an ice cream cone.”

“I know I was stupid.” Anne pushed their hands away. “He deserves better than me. He deserves someone who’ll trust him.”

Jenn grabbed one arm, Meredith the other.

“Anne.” Meredith’s tone stilled her. “George Laurence loves you. We saw it the first time we met him. You love him, too. But you’ve treated him unfairly, and you should be begging his forgiveness.”

Anne closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She knew they were right—she had no one to blame but herself if George
didn’t forgive her, if he didn’t want to marry her now.

Regret tightened her throat. Married to George. It was all she’d dreamed of the last two months. Marrying George, working with him, restoring this house together…

Elizabeth d’Arcement’s wedding yesterday hadn’t given her the same sense of completeness she’d felt at every other wedding. A part of herself had been missing. George.

“Anne, this is ridiculous.” Forbes’s deep voice sounded from the doorway. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week, but time has run out.”

Jenn and Meredith retreated, and Forbes came around to take Meredith’s place on the side of the bed.

“When I agreed with Cliff that George should stand in for him, that George should keep his own identity secret, I did it never having met George before, not knowing that he’s the man God created specifically for you, Annie.” Forbes took hold of Anne’s hand. “Once I realized that you and George had feelings for each other, the scheme was already in motion. George and I did the best we could under the circumstances. I can understand why you might still be mad at me, but if you don’t stop wallowing in self-pity, you are going to lose George. And if that happens, I’m not sure I want to be around you—because you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life.”

Anne couldn’t look at him. To her surprise, rather than try to convince her she needed to go to George on bended knee and beg forgiveness, Forbes pressed a cream envelope into her hand, kissed her forehead, and departed, taking his sisters with him.

Anne nearly wept when she saw her name in George’s compact script on the envelope. Oh, she missed him. The feel of his arms around her when she was tired, his reassuring talks, the strength of his hand around hers…

Why, God? Why does this keep happening to me?

“I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”

“I love him. But I’m afraid of being hurt again.”

“For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but of power and love and discipline.”

“Fill me with that power and love and discipline,” she cried out to God. “Show me how to love and be loved without fear.”

She opened the letter:

My dearest Anne,

I do not know how to begin to apologize to you for any hurt I’ve brought you. You are the most wonderful blessing God has ever brought into my life. I was an idiot to joke with Henry about my feelings for you. You are so deep in my heart that when you’re not near I feel like I can’t breathe properly.

I leave Sunday for France. Forbes has information on how to contact me. As soon as I arrive, I will contact him…and write you.

I love you so much, I ache when we’re apart. Somehow, I will manage to survive the coming separation with only the hope you will be waiting for me when I return.

Please forgive me for hurting you.

I love you, and I miss you already.

With all my heart,
George

Sunday. Today. He was leaving today. She could still stop him. He couldn’t go. She loved him. She had to tell him. She wanted to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him.

Forbes. He knew where George was going. Why had she avoided Forbes all week? If she hadn’t given in to embarrassment and shame, she and George could already be back together.

Jumping out of bed, she grabbed the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she could find and combed her hair back into a ponytail as she stepped into an old pair of canvas sneakers.

She ran upstairs and pounded on Jenn’s door. No answer. Down two flights and pounded on Meredith’s door. Same result.

She ran back to her apartment and grabbed her purse, keys, and phone, dialing Forbes’s number as she flew down the stairs.

“Anne?”

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“What do you mean
who
? George! Where is he? He said you know where he’s going. I have to find him. I have to tell him not to go.”

She skidded to a stop on the back porch.

Forbes climbed out of his black Jaguar and snapped his phone closed.

She jumped down the steps and grabbed his arms. “Where is he?”

Jenn stuck her head out the back window. “He’s at the airport, Anne.”

Forbes shook his head. “His flight for Memphis left fifteen minutes ago.”

“You have his itinerary?” She snatched the page out of his hand before he had it fully out of his pocket. She looked at her watch. “His flight to Atlanta leaves in three hours. Memphis is a six-hour drive.”

Forbes grabbed her arms. “Anne, there is a way.”

Looking into his steel blue eyes, she saw the answer and started shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“How much do you love him?” His gaze bored into hers.

Her heart raced; her stomach churned. With fear’s cold fingers choking her, she nodded. “I have to go.”

“I’ll call Rafe. He can have the jet ready by the time we get you there.”

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Meredith slid out through the front passenger window and sat on the frame like the car was the General Lee from
The Dukes of Hazzard
.

“I—no—I don’t know.”

Forbes squeezed her arms and gently pushed her toward the porch steps. “I’ll call Rafe while you put on a clean shirt and real shoes.”

In less than five minutes, Anne was ready to face a fear even bigger than falling in love.

The last remaining Guidry company jet gleamed in the sun like a sparkling coffin. She was going to plummet to her death. She touched the scar on the side of her neck, the reminder of the last time she’d been on a plane.

George. She had to get to George. If he left, she might never see him again. Swallowing hard, she put her foot on the first step. Then the second. Too soon, she was hunched over, walking into the living room–like seating area.

Forbes sat on the sofa beside her and tightened her seat belt. “Do you want me to come with you?”

She shook her head. “Just tell Rafe to get this flying death trap off the ground before I change my mind.”

He kissed her forehead, said a prayer for her safety, and departed.

Rafe came back and prayed with her, too, then returned to the cockpit.

She didn’t stop sobbing until the plane had been in the air nearly twenty minutes. With all the window blinds closed, she could pretend she was riding in the back of the RV Errol and Maggie had rented that time they took a family trip out to the Grand Canyon. She’d just started to relax when Rafe’s voice came over the intercom to say they were about to land in Memphis.

She pulled her makeup compact out of her purse. There was nothing for it. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose, too.

Throughout the landing, she gripped the edge of the seat and prayed that if God wanted her to come home, He’d let her die upon impact. Then the wheels touched the tarmac, and the small jet coasted into the private plane section of the Memphis airport.