Vegas to Varanasi (Fortytude Series Book 1) (3 page)

The really disturbing part is that it doesn’t even occur to him where this conversation is headed, or at least he pretends it doesn’t. “Damn, Anna, isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” He flashes a half-smile. “I gotta say, a Bloody Mary would do me good right about now. Feels like someone’s taking a sledgehammer to my skull.” He sits up in bed and rubs his face.

“I’m just guessing, but this might have something to do with it.” I hold up the bottle.

“Yeah, I hit it a little hard last night, but the great news is I managed twenty thousand words. Isn’t that great, babe?”

“We’ll see how great it is once you do your editing sober.” I get up to put the whiskey on the dresser. “Besides, how would I know if that’s great? You never let me go near it.”

“I know, but I think I’m getting really, really close. Then you can finally read it.”

I lean against the dresser and fold my arms across my chest. “What’s really bothersome here is that you’re completely missing the point. This is not healthy. I’m worried about you. You look like you’ve been hit by a train. Even Carly said I needed to talk to you this morning.”

An expression of hurt, or concern, I’m not sure which, flashes in his eyes as he swings his feet off the bed. “Carly said something to you?” The truth is, he adores the kids and thinks of them as his own. Maybe the thought of being a disappointment to them will be the wake-up call he needs, but that wish is short-lived.

“I’m sorry.” He walks toward me and takes my hands in his. “I’ll talk to her and make sure she knows I’m okay, that there’s nothing to worry about.”

The stench of alcohol coming from his pores assaults me and I can’t help but back away. I grab him by the arm and pull him into the bathroom, making him stand in front of the mirror. When I flick on the light, he flinches and tries to shade his eyes.

“Look at this person,” I say, standing behind him. “Does he look like there’s nothing to worry about? I don’t mean to be cruel, but you look like shit and don’t smell much better.”

“Anna!” He chuckles with discomfort and seems surprised I’m being so brutally honest with him.

“Anna, nothing! This isn’t funny!”

“Okay.” He takes my face in his hands. “Okay. It won’t happen anymore. I promise.”

Something in his eyes tells me otherwise.

Four

I don’t know exactly how this happened, but I’m running a little late getting ready for a wedding this evening. Usually I’m terminally early, but Luke will be arriving any minute, my hair won’t cooperate, and I can’t seem to remember where I put my watch. I cannot leave the house without wearing my watch. It’s a thing.

The doorbell rings, and Trixie barks as Hayden gets the door.
Well, crap!
I guess my wrist will just have to feel naked all night. As I squish my toes into my lovely torture devices, I smooth out my favorite dress, an A-line in black with tiny white polka dots.

“Anna Banana, let’s get a move on!” Luke calls from the front of the house. “I’m sure you look gorgeous!”

I drop my cell phone and lip balm into my purse and head to the living room. Trixie is so excited to see Luke that she’s completely spazzing, rubbing up against his legs so that he’ll pet her. “Trixie, stop!” I command. “You’re gonna get hair all over him.”

Hayden reaches down to grab her collar and starts scratching her head. “What d’ya know? You and Dad clean up pretty nice after all.”

“Your dad has always cleaned up nice. You want a lint brush for the Trixie assault?” I ask Luke as I collect my card for the newlyweds from the roll-top desk.

“I’m fine.” He brushes his pant legs a couple times. “We really need to get going.”

“Okay, okay.” I give Hayden a good-bye hug. “You staying in tonight?”

“Nope.” His hazel eyes sparkle. “Got a date. With Tessa.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. “You love it when you prove Carly wrong, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

I put on my seat belt once we’re in Luke’s classic Mustang convertible. Hayden has been trying to talk him out of this car ever since he bought it a few years back. I don’t see him parting with it anytime soon. “Thanks for giving me a ride. Now I can enjoy the libations without having to worry about driving home.”

“Who are you kidding?” he asks as he backs out of the driveway. “You start to feel sick after three drinks. Sometimes two.”

“True... true. Man, what happened to me? It sucks getting older!”

“Yes. It does.”

Luke picks up speed once we exit my gated community, and I frown at him. “You’re going to make me come right out and ask you to put the top up, aren’t you?”

“What?” He hits the switch to close it. “You love riding in this car with the top down.”

“Do you have any idea how long I fought with the hair tonight, only to still have this one section right here keep doing this weird, flippy, curl-gone-rogue thing?”

Luke simply laughs.

I start adjusting the station on the satellite radio. “So, everything okay with you and Richard lately?”

He keeps his eyes on the road. “Of course. Everything okay with David?”

Apparently I’m not as smooth as I’d like to think. I narrow my eyes at him. “Carly?”

“How’d you guess? And I’m assuming she’s the reason you’re asking me about Richard.”

I lean back in my seat. “Well, sort of. She mentioned that you were kind of peeved about some dinner with him, but it was actually Hayden who said there’d been some tension.”

“There’s no tension.” He lets out an annoyed sigh. “It’s the same old shit. He’s disorganized, doesn’t keep me informed, and then wants
me
to adjust when there are schedule conflicts.”

“Which you do.”

“Yeah, well. That’s my own fault, I’ll admit. But it’s nothing compared to what’s going on with David.” This time he looks straight at me, concern in his face.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m overreacting. It’s not like he has to drink every single day. He doesn’t miss work from it. It’s just that stupid book! I’m beginning to hate the thing. He’s got this idea if it doesn’t go somewhere, the rest of his life is meaningless.”

“From the sound of it, I don’t think you’re overreacting, but I’m not sure what you should do about it either. I’d hate to see things get worse, though.”

“Ah, we’ll work it out. I’m sure it’s just a rough patch he’s having.” I only say this to change the subject because, honestly, I’m worried this issue is not going away on its own. Not only does the drinking bother me, but David’s becoming increasingly reclusive. There was a time when he would have come to this wedding with me and Luke, but these days I can hardly get him out of the house.

I take out my phone to check my e-mail. I resisted getting a smart phone until a couple of years ago for fear of being one of those people who constantly goes online. My fear was justified. “Can you believe Julia’s daughter is actually getting married?” Julia is my closest friend, aside from Luke. We’ve known her since high school.

“No, I can’t. The scary thing is, that means you and I will be there in a couple years ourselves.”

“Not likely. Hayden’s too busy playing the field, and Carly? She’s too picky!”

“That’s just the way I like it, so don’t go telling her that.” He points his finger at me.

I laugh. “But don’t you want grandbabies someday?”

“Sure, but only if the potential son-in-law is not a loser.”

***

A few hours later, Luke and I are seated at a circular table at the reception. About twelve tables, decorated in gold and white, sit under a canopy on a gorgeous spring night, and little lights are draped above us. I have to admit it’s pretty magical. “Can you believe this place? I don’t even want to think about how much this all cost.”

“That’s the nice thing about being a guest,” Luke jokes. “We don’t have to.”

“Now I feel kinda bad that I got them a gift card instead of buying something off the registry. I just figured that way Katherine and Jacob can get whatever they need but don’t receive.” I place my linen napkin in my lap and swipe a roll from the basket on the table. I can’t help it. I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m starving.

I smile as a waiter stops and pours us some champagne. As I take a sip from my glass, the most stunning couple sits down at our table. I can’t decide who is more attractive. The woman reminds me of a movie star from old Hollywood, with wavy auburn hair that cascades down her shoulders and milky white skin I’m sure has never seen a pimple in its life.

The man? My God, he takes my breath away! I have to avert my eyes because when I look at him, I just want to grin like an idiot, he’s so beautiful.

I once had this same reaction when I was in college and had to take a summer geology class for a random science credit. I was not looking forward to the class because the study of dirt and groundwater didn’t exactly excite me. However, when the instructor, a grad student, walked in, I got a big, stupid grin on my face because he was so cute.

That guy in no way compared to the specimen sitting across from me now. He looks Indian. Dark skin, luscious black hair with just a touch of grey, and the most amazing, sea green eyes. They might be the same color as mine, actually, but with my coloring, they’re nothing special. On him... holy hell!

I must be forgetting to avert my eyes because Luke’s voice jars me. “Anna!” he whispers. “You do realize that you’re psychotically staring at that guy, don’t you? Because I’m pretty sure he notices.”

The heat rises to my face, and I raise my glass to polish off my champagne. The man smiles politely at my show of bad manners.

No one else is seated at the table with us, so Luke offers introductions. “Hello, I’m Luke and this is Anna.”

“I’m Kiran, and this is Miranda,” the man replies. Miranda offers a curt nod, but is clearly bored with us already.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Luke says. “So how do you know the newlyweds?”

The waiter returns to fill their glasses. “I’m not a fan of champagne,” Miranda says as she pulls a compact out of her Coach wristlet. “Could I have an amaretto sour?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you,” Kiran says to the server, before he addresses Luke’s question. “I’m friends with the family of the groom, for about fifteen years now.”

He must have grown up in the States, because I detect no accent when he speaks. “So you’ve known Jacob since he was a boy then. I hope you can vouch for his character,” I tease. “Luke and I have known the bride’s mother, Julia, since high school.”

“Her daughter made a good choice,” he confirms solemnly, as if I were being serious.

The waiter returns with Miranda’s drink and she takes a sip. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s not a vodka sour.” She sets the glass down in a huff.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I thought you said amaretto sour.” The waiter glances at each of us nervously.

“Well, clearly you thought wrong. Would you please get it right next time?” She then wrinkles her nose at me and smiles.

A roaring fills my ears, and I squeeze Luke’s knee to keep from saying something. He puts his hand over mine and pats it.

Kiran leans over and whispers something in Miranda’s ear, and her smug expression turns to indignation. She says nothing in response, but shifts in her seat to create some distance between them.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” the waiter says as he collects her glass. “I’ll get that vodka sour.”

As he passes me I touch his arm to stop him. I put my hand against my mouth like I’m trying to be discreet, but make sure my voice is loud enough for her to hear. “She
did
ask for an amaretto sour.”

I think Kiran stifles a chuckle.

“Whatever,” Miranda says.

Did she just say
whatever?

Luke mutters under his breath, “Could she be any more horrible?”

“I don’t think so,” I answer at normal volume, looking straight at her with my fake smile. Then I make a show of taking the lip balm out of my Kohl’s Nine & Co. clutch, simply because I have the burning desire to repulse her with my mediocrity.

We continue to make idle chat, and the minute it comes up that Luke and I are not an item, Miranda makes it her mission for the evening to sink her claws into him, making me wonder about her relationship with Kiran. It isn’t long before the rest of the guests assigned to our table show, making it more difficult for Miranda to flirt. However, it doesn’t deter her from speaking over the couple between her and Luke.

Luke plays along, and I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s leading her to believe there will be some sort of fruit for her efforts, and even asks her to dance. He’s good. Very good.

Kiran’s posture is relaxed and he doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed by Miranda’s behavior. In fact, he seems amused. We exchange polite smiles, and he points to Luke’s empty seat, asking if it’s okay to sit there. I nod in agreement.

“Before I forget,” I say as he takes the seat beside me. “Would it be really out of line for me to ask what you said to Miranda after the amaretto sour incident?” Oh, wow. I realize I’m on my fourth glass of champagne, giving me the gumption to ask questions that are none of my damn business.

“No, it would not be out of line at all.” Geezus. Those eyes. “All I said was there was no reason to be unkind.”

“Thank you!” I hold up my knuckles for a fist bump. “You, sir, rock!”

He seems a little uncertain of what I’m doing at first, then smiles and returns a fist. Sheesh. Even his teeth are perfect.

“Well, as long as I’m being, let’s face it, really,
really
nosy, why don’t you seem to be upset that she’s all over my ex-husband?” Yeah, I’m definitely feeling the champagne.

“Ah.” He looks back in her direction; she is now inappropriately close to Luke on the dance floor. “This is a blind date. A friend of my mother has been bugging her about setting me up with her daughter. I’ve never even met her before tonight, but it didn’t take long to discover we weren’t going to hit it off.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

That was a quick change of subject and my faculties are a bit dulled. I pinch my eyebrows together. “I’m sorry?”

“From high school. You don’t remember me.”

I’m pretty sure I have a look of panic on my face because apparently all night I’ve been speaking to someone I knew in high school, and I don’t even have the decency to remember him.

“I’m sorry,” I say for the umpteenth time, “but Kiran isn’t exactly a common name. I think I would remember... Wait. Now that I think about it, there
was
a Kiran in my English Lit class junior year, but he was this quiet, kind of pudgy...”

Kiran smiles and raises his eyebrows before nodding ever so slightly.

Inadvertently, I gasp and put my hand over my mouth. “No way!”

“You remember. You do remember me!” The pleasure in his voice surprises me.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to call you pudgy!” I. Am. Mortified.

“It’s okay, Anna. Actually, I was fat.” He takes another sip of champagne.

I can’t help but giggle at his directness. “No, no you weren’t. I admit I don’t remember a whole lot about you. You were soooo quiet! We did speak a few times though, didn’t we?”

“A few times. But do you know what I remember about you?” Briefly, he taps the top of my hand with his finger.