The Wedding Truce Page 2
It’s not enough.
Grace accepted his hand as she got out of the car. But when she tried to pull away, Derek held on tight.
“Come on, honey. You’re the other thing I want to show off.”
Gross. “I’m not an object, Derek.”
“What?” He looked down at her. “Oh, right. Of course, not,” he said with zero conviction.
They walked to the party and were greeted by their hosts, a lovely couple who had recently built the house. After exchanging pleasantries, Derek made a beeline for the bar, steering Grace in that direction.
It took ten minutes to get a glass of wine in the packed house. Derek ordered a whiskey and practically downed it in one large gulp.
“Might as well get another while we’re here,” he said and gestured to the bartender. Grace subtly slipped a five-dollar bill into the bartender’s tip jar.
They moved away from the bar and made their way into the living room. Derek draped his arm across her shoulders. Grace wiggled, dislodging his arm.
“Hey, did I tell you about my golf game the other day?”
“Yep, you sure did.” Another boring story she’d had to endure on the way over. Grace seriously needed to reconsider her rule about giving dates multiple shots. Sometimes you just knew after the first date.
“I was on fire,” Derek said, ignoring her reply. Then he went on to recount the “epic round” for a second time. Grace took the time to familiarize herself with her surroundings.
The house was very tastefully decorated in beige tones. The recessed lighting was turned low and jazz music was playing softly in the background. If Grace had to guess, the host had quite the budget at Williams-Sonoma. She’d noticed much of the furniture and decor from the recent catalog.
She craned her neck to get a look at the food table, which was overflowing with different kinds of cheeses and crackers, fruit and crudité plates. She noticed oysters, fresh shrimp and flank steak, and a guest walked by holding a plate with what looked and smelled like lobster mac-and-cheese.
In other words, the party was picture-perfect.
And she was miserable.
When some of Derek’s colleagues sidled up to him and began telling lame, questionable jokes, she excused herself and headed for the food table.
“Hey, aren’t you Derek’s girlfriend?”
Grace dropped the carrot she was putting on her plate and turned to find a petite woman with long blond hair and a stylish black dress pointing at her.
Grace wouldn’t have been surprised if a big, blinking neon sign that said Warning Sign Number One had been hanging over her the woman’s head. Before Grace could correct the blonde, she continued.
“I’m Penny. I’m engaged to Brad.”
Penny waved a massive diamond ring in her face. While Grace normally took the opportunity to introduce herself and her wedding-planning business to newly engaged people, Penny was rushing forward.
“Derek talks about you nonstop. You should have heard him last Thursday. You know all about Brad’s annual cookout.”
Grace did not. Then again, she didn’t know who Brad was, either.
“Derek is just so excited about your relationship.”
“Uh...” Grace found that odd considering this was only their fourth date. The other three had hardly been groundbreaking.
Once again, she felt that neon warning sign blinking away when the chatty woman continued.
“Oh, and have an amazing time in Turks and Caicos! I gave Derek some tips and hot spots. You know that’s where Brad proposed.”
Nope, she sure didn’t. But how could she when she hadn’t been aware she was going on vacation with her fake boyfriend.
She decided it was beyond time to offer Derek a piece of her mind. His delusions needed to be set straight. They weren’t dating. She wasn’t his girlfriend. And there was no way she would ever consider going on vacation with him—let alone go out with him again.
Grace could feel herself getting worked up. She should have never come to this party with Derek tonight.
She heard him laughing loudly and saw a fresh drink in his hand. Great. Guess I’ll be Ubering back home.
Although, that was the least of her problems. She could have been at home, catching up on work or binging that new romcom series she had in her Netflix queue. Heck, she could have been watching glue dry and had more fun.
Well, she wasn’t helpless. She could walk out of here at any time.
Mind made up, Grace put her plate on the table, turned...and ran into a solid wall of muscle.
“Ow,” she squeaked.
“Sorry, I didn’t see...”
The deep baritone voice caused goose bumps to pop up all over her arms. Grace inhaled sharply—she knew exactly whom that delicious voice belonged to. She looked up to find the one person she actually despised.
“Xander,” she groaned.
The surprise quickly faded from his face and his eyebrows drew together. “Grace.”
What was with the universe tonight? Was there any other way this night could suck?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.
She didn’t know what it was about Alexander Ryan, but the man brought out the absolute worst in her.
A frown marred what some people would call an incredibly handsome face. Xander was the best friend of Jack, Emerson’s fiancé. They’d met a few times now and each time only further solidified the fact that they had nothing in common.
Actually, there was one thing they shared. An intense dislike for each other.
Too bad. Because if he wasn’t so annoying, she might find him attractive. After all, he had classic movie-star looks that certainly turned heads everywhere he went. He was tall and fit, with broad shoulders, hair so thick and dark a woman—well, not her, but some woman!—might love to run her fingers through it and the most mesmerizing blue-green eyes that stood out even more because of the dark lashes that surrounded them.
She had no idea why, but the two of them had been at odds since the moment they’d met. Maybe it was because their professions were polar opposites. Xander was a divorce attorney. She helped couples start their lives together and he helped them end them. Maybe it was the fact that he’d made quick work of dismissing wedding planning the first time they met. Maybe it was his utter self-confidence, which she normally would find appealing in other men, but with Xander it just came off as arrogant.
Or maybe it was that the air became riddled with electricity whenever they were in the same room together. And she didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about that.
“Work thing,” Xander said, answering her question.
God, he smelled amazing. It was then that Grace realized how close they were standing. And her hand was on his chest. She removed it as if she’d placed it on burning coals, which made Xander grin. A slow and completely knowing grin.
“You look...good,” he said slowly. “Really good.” His eyes narrowed as he glanced around the room. “Too good for this party.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? She never knew with him.
Looked like she’d found one more way to be miserable at this hot mess of a party.
Chapter Two
Xander couldn’t wait for this party to be over, and he’d only been here for five minutes. He was an attorney, not a socialite. Yet somehow, attending these events was becoming as common as waltzing into the courtroom.
Not that Xander didn’t like a good party. But tonight’s soiree was definitely not his idea of a fun time. In fact, he’d been racking his brain and still couldn’t remember exactly whose party this was, or what occasion they were celebrating. All he knew was that his boss had “strongly encouraged” him to attend. He’d much rather be at the office finishing up some overdue work and then head to his best friend’s bar for a beer an
d to watch the Nationals game.
Instead, he was at someone’s wife’s party celebrating...something or other. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. He would make insanely boring small talk with his boss and other coworkers. He would laugh at their spouses’ lame jokes. And he would pretend he was having a great time while he perused a buffet of fancy food that would taste exactly like the last buffet at the last party.
He didn’t remember any classes in law school that prepared him for this side of law. Schmoozing 101.
The cherry on top of this disappointing cake was running into Grace Harris. Wedding planner, eternal optimist and organizer of unnecessarily extravagant parties to celebrate unions that probably wouldn’t last five years.
Grace was best friends and roommates with Emerson Dewitt, the fiancée of his best friend, Jack Wright. Xander adored Emerson. She was fun and sweet and charming and good-natured. Even though he wasn’t a big fan of marriage, if Jack insisted on getting hitched, Emerson was the best woman for it.
But Grace Harris was the complete opposite of the likable Emerson. He didn’t know what it was, but Grace had long ago made it known that she wasn’t a fan of his.
The feeling was mutual.
It hadn’t happened often, but every time they were in the same room together, he could practically feel his blood pressure rising. Something about her brought out the worst in him.
Maybe it was the way she saw everything in life as some kind of movie moment, with a picture-perfect happy ending just around the corner. Plus, there was the fact that she turned up her prim little nose at his chosen profession. Just because she couldn’t fathom one of her perfect wedding couples splitting up, she was down on the concept of divorce.
Well, she might not like divorce attorneys but that didn’t mean people didn’t need them.
Still, he couldn’t deny that she was beautiful. Truly take-your-breath-away gorgeous. With her long legs and perfect skin and a river of thick dark hair that cascaded down her back, she seemed truly unaware of how exquisite she was. Like tonight. She definitely looked stunning in a cherry-red dress and high heels.
Not that her looks mattered. Her beauty did nothing to offset the fact that they had nothing in common.
Standing in front of him, she forgot about the plate of food in her hand and placed her other hand on her hip. He knew she meant to look annoyed or even nonchalant. Instead, the gesture only further defined her hourglass curves.
“As great as this little chat has been—” Grace gestured to her plate, which contained one carrot and three pieces of shrimp “—I have people to mingle with.”
“Have fun with that. I’m sure you’ll find some scintillating conversations at this shindig.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Is there anything you enjoy?”
He enjoyed verbally sparring with her because she could always hold her own. Her confidence and refusal to back down was appealing. Plus, her green eyes sparkled with every jab.
Eyes sparkling? What the hell was he thinking? He shook his head and swept his arm for her to walk past him.
“I enjoy a great many things, Grace Harris. Maybe one day you’ll find out.”
She stepped closer to him. So close that her floral scent teased him. He didn’t know if it was her shampoo or perfume or lotion. Not that it mattered one bit. Grace smelled absolutely delectable.
“Oh, I think I know plenty about you now, Xander Ryan.”
He didn’t back down. He leaned into her. “Astound me.”
“You’re way too arrogant,” she said. “You think wedding planners and weddings are a joke.” She took a breath. “If you weren’t Jack’s best friend and if Emerson wasn’t the most important person in my life, I wouldn’t even waste my precious time talking to you now.”
He pinned her with his best seductive stare and lowered his voice. “But you are talking to me now.”
She gulped. “Not for long.” She broke eye contact and shoved past him.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Grace,” he called.
She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.
“Great running into you.”
Again, she rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Xander.”
With that, she continued through the dining room and disappeared around the corner. Xander couldn’t help but watch her retreating form, which was just as gorgeous from the back as from the front.
To be honest, he was a little sorry they’d gotten off on the wrong foot. Not that he would admit this to anyone else, but when he’d first seen her, he’d had a visceral reaction like never before, to any woman he’d ever met. It had been as if she’d punched him in the gut. It wasn’t just her beauty that had called out to him. It was something else, something indefinable.
Then she’d opened her mouth.
Maybe he shouldn’t have made that joke about her planning unions that would inevitably end up in his office. Yeah...that hadn’t gone over so well. That was probably when she’d decided that he was an unreasonable, unfeeling person. Well, the thought was mutual. Grace was—
“Xander, welcome.”
He turned to see Carl, his colleague at the firm, and had to stifle the urge to yell “aha.”
“Hey, Carl. Thanks for the invite.”
“No problem. Happy to have you at the housewarming.”
Housewarming—double aha. It was all coming back now.
“Great place, man,” Xander offered.
“Thanks. Make sure you tell Maggie that. She’s been stressing about this party for weeks.”
“Everything looks amazing.”
Carl swirled his drink. “You need help planning a wedding?”
“Huh?” Xander asked, confusion in his voice.
Carl chuckled. “Saw you talking to Grace Harris. Didn’t realize you knew her.”
“Friend of a friend,” he offered. “You know her?”
“A little. I’ve run into her a couple times. She’s here with Derek Whittaker.”
Oh, come on! Xander couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising. Derek wasn’t one of his favorite people. In fact, he thought the guy was a total jerk. “Seriously? What the hell is she doing here with him?”
“Not sure what’s going on there to be honest. Derek claims they’re dating, but if they are, it’s a really new thing.”
At that moment, Xander spotted Grace and Derek in the next room. Seemed like Derek only had eyes for Grace. Xander couldn’t blame the guy, but still. Yuck. Derek was such an egotistical ass. Someone who took locker-room talk to a whole new level by boasting about his conquests in a little too much detail.
What did Grace see in the guy? Maybe Derek was putting on some kind of facade with her. Maybe he should just go over there and let her know—
“Do you need to get that?” Carl asked.
Huh? What? He realized his cell was ringing. “Uh...” Xander stared down at his mother’s name. Which was the lesser of two evils? This party or talking to his mother?
Since his night was already a bust, he decided to go for it.
“I do need to take this, sorry,” he said to Carl and quickly made his way outside to the long front porch, which was covered with flowerpots.
“Xander, darling, I can’t believe I’m actually hearing your voice. I was just telling my stylist the other day that I was sure my handsome yet extremely aloof son was a myth.”
He choked back a groan. “It hasn’t been that long. I saw you last month.” He switched the phone to his other ear and clamped down on the annoyance that had been growing since he’d stepped into this party.
Eloise Ryan elicited a delicate cough, which was her signature way of saying “bull.” “That was two months ago and in any case it’s quite shameful to not see you more often when you live less than ten miles from us. You should be over here all the time doing your laundry and scavengin
g for food.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You do realize I’m not a nineteen-year-old college student, right? I’m capable of doing my own laundry, I have a cleaning person and I actually can cook a couple meals.”
Ignoring his comment, Eloise continued. “I’d love for you to come to dinner soon. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Someone special. Someone special to me, that is.”
If Xander had been a dog, this was when the fur on the back of his neck would stand at full attention. He’d been down this road with his mom before. Come to think of it, he’d been down it with his father, as well.
He took a deep breath and braced himself. “Who is he?”
“His name is Gareth. He’s a musician.”
Xander paced away from the gray house with tasteful white trim as he spotted some of his coworkers making their way toward it. That was all he needed. People to learn about how dysfunctional his parents were.
“A musician, really?”
“Well,” his mom replied in a singsong voice, “he teaches guitar lessons when he’s not working.”
At least this one works, he thought bitterly.
“He’s a barista,” Eloise said this with the amount of a pride one might reserve for a brain surgeon.
“He works at Starbucks?” Xander said through gritted teeth.
“No, he does not work at Starbucks. He works at a local and very exclusive coffeehouse in North Arlington, smarty-pants. No need to be snobby about it.”
Xander ran a hand through his hair again, and then silently cursed himself for messing it up. “How old is Gareth?”
“A robust and mature twenty-four.”
Now Xander let out another curse, and this time it was not silent.
“Xander Michael Ryan, watch your language.”
“Are you seriously trying to discipline me? You’re dating a twenty-four-year-old. Does Dad know?”
“Who knows? He’s been spending so much time up in Sag Harbor with his little trollop that I doubt he would care.”