Turnabout's Fair Play (7 page)

Stepping back, Jamie held his childhood best friend at arm’s length. One thing he’d always appreciated about Danny: the fact he was a good two inches shorter.

“We’re meeting our real estate agent here in a half hour or so to go house hunting. I’m starting a new job up at Southern Hills Medical Center, so we’re looking to move to this area to be close.” Danny set his coffee down on the low table between the four chairs. “You remember my wife, Chae Koh Seung.”

Jamie turned again toward the gorgeous woman. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You should have said something.” He took her hands in his and leaned forward to exchange a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m not surprised you didn’t remember me.” Chae sat down, looking like nothing less than a queen holding court. “We only saw each other a couple of times before you stopped coming around.”

Though Chae continued smiling, the waspish tone in her voice stung. As if he needed her censure to feel any worse than he already did.

Having just settled into his chair, Danny went stiff. “Chae, that’s not—”

“No, Danny, it’s okay.” Jamie sat, leaned forward, and braced his elbows on his knees. “Believe it or not, I’ve been thinking about you a lot the last couple of days. In fact, I’d decided to call you to see if you’d have time soon to get together for dinner or something so we could talk. But now’s as good a time as any.” Though he hadn’t planned on doing this in front of Chae.

Danny sipped his coffee. “We’re here. No time like the present.”

“The way things ended…I mean, not really ended, but…I mean, I dropped the ball big time. And you have every right to never want to talk to me again. But now things are different, and I’ve got to make changes. And the rehearsal and bachelor party reminded me of you and how much I missed you and how I’d screwed up, not responding to that last e-mail.”

Danny’s eyebrows raised higher and higher during Jamie’s verbal vomit. “Is there an apology in there, or are you just throwing words at each other?”

Jamie lost all control of the muscles in his face and couldn’t get his mouth to close.

After several long moments, Danny’s expression cracked into a smile, then into laughter. “Your face is priceless. I’m still confused at what you were trying to say, but I’m pretty sure there was regret and remorse in there somewhere.”

Relieved, Jamie scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, you forgive me for being the biggest jerk of a friend?”

“Forgive…yes. But I may hold this over you for a long time to come.”

Jamie groaned but couldn’t help smiling at the same time. He didn’t care if Danny brought this up every day from now until doomsday—so long as they were friends again. “And if anyone can hold a grudge, you can. But I deserve it.”

“You said something about a wedding rehearsal and bachelor party. Don’t tell me you’re finally getting married.”

He didn’t miss the hurt tone in Danny’s voice. “No—see, I don’t have a grandmother who insists on hiring a matchmaker the way yours did.” He slipped easily into the neutral topic of Bobby Patterson’s wedding.

He was trying to figuring out how to work his layoff into the conversation when a very familiar-looking woman entered. Quite petite with long brown hair, she came directly over to them. He and Danny both stood.

“Danny, Chae, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. And Jamie, I didn’t expect to see you again before the wedding tonight.”

Wedding—right. She was one of the bridesmaids—the one engaged to Bobby’s best man, Patrick. He reached over the coffee table to shake her hand. “Good morning, Stacy. I didn’t know you were a real estate agent.”

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, she whipped out a business card from her trousers pocket. “Yep. Helped Zarah buy her house, and Bobby his condo—which I’ll now be helping him sell. Call me if you’re ever in the market.”

Jamie tucked the card into the outer pocket of his netbook sleeve. Might come in handy if he did end up needing to sell the townhouse. Sometimes agents connected with mutual friends were more willing to negotiate for a lower commission. That way, he could keep more of the money from selling…if things got that bad.

Chae walked over to the counter with Stacy. Jamie took advantage of the moment alone with Danny.

“I’d really like to get together with you soon—just us—so we can talk. Are your e-mail and phone number still the same?” Jamie pulled out his phone, just in case he needed to change one or the other in his contact list.

“Still the same. Yeah, we need to get together to talk. I’m working evenings for the next two weeks, but then once I start the new job, I’ll be on the day shift. Just let me know what works for you.” Danny extended his right hand.

Jamie shook it, resisting the urge to clasp it with both of his. “Will do.”

Chae called his name, and Danny picked up his cup to dispose of it. “Oh, and if you’re interested, a couple of other guys and I have started a gaming group. You’d be more than welcome to join us, if you’re still into that kind of thing.” Danny explained the concept behind the fantasy-world war game.

Jamie’s heart leaped at the idea, but his professional persona tamped down the enthusiasm. “I’ll have to let you know about that.” He’d buried that part of his past so deep, he wasn’t certain it could—or should—be resurrected. At least not publicly.

Danny, Chae, and Stacy departed, and Jamie sat and picked up the computer again. Before getting back into what he’d been reading, he opened up a new browser window and wrote an e-mail that was five years late. This time, he wasn’t going to let his career, his delusions of grandeur, come in between him and the best friend he’d ever had.

After sending the missive—with a few suggested dates to get together—he switched back to the other website. He read a few more sentences…and then stopped.

He’d read this kind of stuff privately, in a way no one else would know about it, but he wouldn’t join his best friend in gaming because he was afraid of letting other enthusiasts know he was one of them? What a hypocrite.

Frankly, the more he thought about it, the more Jamie didn’t like the person he’d become, the person who thought that having a hobby and being enthusiastic about it was something wrong, something bad.

Yes, he needed to make changes in his life. And the first step was rediscovering who Jamie O’Connor really was.

Tight, searing pain blocked Flannery’s throat. Tears stung her eyes. Bright white dots danced in her peripheral vision. She needed to sit down.

“Bend your knees just a little, or you’re going to pass out.” Caylor’s whisper almost vanished in the
whoosh
and rustle of more than five hundred people rising as the small string-and-brass ensemble transitioned from Handel’s “Water Music Suite” to join the pipe organ in playing “The Prince of Denmark’s March” trumpet voluntary.

Flannery unlocked her knees. Immediately the dizziness and dancing lights went away. But the pain in her throat grew worse when the doors at the rear of the sanctuary opened. Carrying a cascading bouquet of white flowers—roses, lily of the valley, white lilacs, and orange blossoms—and on her grandfather’s arm, Zarah moved slowly down the central aisle of the fan-shaped sanctuary, her eyes fixed on the front of the church.

Blinking to clear her vision, Flannery glanced at Bobby. His large, square jaw worked back and forth—making the muscles in his cheek appear to be twitching. He blinked, and a tear ran down his face.

Quickly, Flannery looked away, taking shallow breaths so she didn’t dissolve into the threatening sobs. She always got choked up at weddings—but this was different. This was her best friend’s wedding, one of them, anyway. Yet it wasn’t for Zarah that the emotion nearly overwhelmed her—not entirely.

Though Caylor and Dylan hadn’t set a date yet, they, too, would be getting married soon. Flannery had other unmarried friends, sure, but no one as close as these two. And in a short time, she would be absolutely and utterly alone.

And she’d discovered her greatest fear last night—while tossing and turning from her emotional encounter with her best friends after the bachelorette party. More than anything else in life, she feared growing old and dying alone. She feared going through life not sharing it with someone else in more than just friendship.

She looked past Zarah to the now-closed doors. Standing beside them, hands clasped fig-leaf style in front of him, was Jamie O’Connor.

Did she fear dying alone enough to put up with someone like him?

A manic laugh bubbled in her chest, and she nearly choked trying to keep it from escaping. She might be afraid, but she wasn’t desperate. Not yet, anyway.

Somehow, she remembered all of her responsibilities during the ceremony and—after shocking herself back into the present with the wild thought about Jamie O’Connor—managed to push everything else aside, get over her own selfishness, and truly experience Zarah’s happiness. She did allow herself the weakness of a few tears when Bobby’s voice trembled and then cracked completely when reciting his portion of the vows. Zarah, on the other hand, hadn’t been this calm, cool, and confident since…well, ever, in the time Flannery had known her.

Since most of the photos had been taken before the ceremony—except for those with Zarah and Bobby together—it didn’t take long before the wedding party and close family of the bride and groom were herded onto a bus for the trek out to the Opryland Hotel.

Flannery tried to join in the chatter amongst the crowd, but it seemed no matter where she turned or with whom she spoke, Jamie O’Connor’s voice and laughter drowned out everyone else’s.

“I knew you had a thing for him.” Jack Colby dropped into the seat beside Flannery.

“What
are
you talking about?” Flannery crossed her arms—and uncrossed them to keep from creasing the front of the black silk gown.

Jack raised his chin, indicating Jamie, who stood in the aisle and leaned over the seats where Stacy and Patrick sat.

“You should have seen this guy.” Jamie rested his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. Flannery couldn’t see Stacy over the high seat back, but she was certain Patrick’s fiancée had a slightly punch-drunk expression on her face. Jamie seemed to affect most women that way. “He starts going up the hill after—what was his name? Milligan? Yeah, Milligan—he starts going up the hill after Milligan, who’s just grabbed our flag….”

Flannery turned back to her boss. “Whatever. If you think I’d be interested in someone like him just because he’s good looking, you don’t know me very well.”

Jack sighed. “Look, kiddo, I know you think I’m shallow and vain”—he grinned—“which, truthfully, I am. But I know you’re not. And you’re shortchanging this guy if you think all he has going for him is his looks. I’m just suggesting you take the time to get to know him. I haven’t been around him all that much—and haven’t really had a chance to talk to him at length—but I’ve got a feeling. There’s something more to this guy than what’s on the surface, than this persona he puts out there for everyone to see. And have you ever known me to be wrong about anyone?”

“Well, there was that one editor you hired—”

“Yeah—besides people who falsify their résumés, I mean.”

Flannery gaped at Jack. In all the years they’d worked together, he’d never been this interested in her personal life—only in deflecting the occasional speculation around the office about the two of them being linked romantically. “Who died and made you my fairy godmother all of a sudden?”

“Believe me, if I could, I’d do some magic on you to knock whatever created this negativity toward nice guys out of your head.” He tapped his forefinger against her temple.

“I’ve only ever dated ‘nice’ guys. Maybe
too
nice sometimes.”

“Yeah? What’s this I hear about you giving your number to a bouncer at Rippy’s?”

Couldn’t anyone keep a secret these days? “He’s a law student, just working there to pay rent and bills.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say when they see a five-foot-nine blond who looks like a Scandinavian goddess. Sweetie, guys will say anything to get a woman like you to go out with them.”

Flannery rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago. And hello—I’m Irish, not Scandinavian. I probably won’t go out with him anyway. He totally wasn’t my type.”

“And who is?” Jack jerked his head toward Jamie a couple of times.

Flannery punched him in the upper arm. “Stop it already. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but last night I agreed to let Zarah and Caylor start setting me up with guys they know, starting with Dylan’s brother, the physicist.”

“There you go. A nice, smart guy.”

“Who’s too young for me.”

“Age doesn’t matter if he’s the right one.”

Funny, Flannery remembered saying something very much like that to Caylor not long ago.

The bus rolled to a stop under the portico leading into the conference-center portion of the enormous hotel. Jack stood and offered Flannery a hand up. Having spent several hours here this afternoon taking photos in the world-famous atrium, Flannery’s mood improved upon discovering the Tennessee Ballroom was just inside these doors instead of half a mile away. Though she loved this pair of strappy, mid-heeled sandals Zarah’s new mother-in-law had helped them pick out, she’d learned they definitely weren’t made for walking and had spent most of the afternoon going from place to place in the atrium barefoot.