The Best Man and The Wedding Planner. Teresa CarpenterЧитать онлайн книгу.
slid into his seat, his big body filling up the small space. Thankfully they were in first class and a ten-inch console separated their seats, giving her some breathing space. Until he flicked some buttons and the console dropped down.
“That’s better.”
For who? She leaned away as he leaned closer. Just as she feared, she felt pinned in, crowded. When he dropped the tray down in front of her, the sense of being squeezed from all sides grew stronger. Not by claustrophobia but by awareness. His scent—man and chocolate—made her mouth water.
“So is it easy for you?” He half laughed, going back to their previous conversation. “To move on?”
“It’s not, actually. My mom problems are probably just as bad as or worse than your parent problems. Yet, here I am, jetting off to Italy.”
Mom’s words, not hers. Darlene couldn’t understand how Lindsay could leave and be gone for a month when Darlene’s next wedding was fast approaching. It didn’t matter that Lindsay had booked this event well before Darlene got engaged or that it was the wedding of the year—perhaps the decade—and a huge honor for Lindsay to be asked to handle it.
“I doubt it.”
“Really? My mother is my best customer.”
“Oh-hh.” He dragged the word out.
“Exactly. Soon I’ll be walking her down the aisle to husband number six.”
“Ouch. Is she a glutton for punishment?”
“Quite the opposite. My mother loves to be in love. The minute a marriage becomes work, it’s the beginning of the end. What I can’t get her to understand is that you have to work on your marriage from day one. Love needs to be fostered and nourished through respect and compromise.”
“Honesty, communication and loyalty are key.”
“Yes!” She nudged him in the arm. “You get it. Maybe you won’t be such a bad best man, after all.”
He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Thanks.”
“Anyway. I can waste a lot of time worrying about Mom or I can accept that it’s her life to live. Just as my life is mine to live.” She didn’t know why she was sharing this with him. Her mother’s love life wasn’t a secret. Far from it. But Lindsay rarely talked about her mother. “Until the next time she comes crying on my shoulder, I choose the latter.”
“At least she lets her suckers off the line.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck, loosening tight muscles. “It’s hard to let my parents just be when they keep harping on me to join the campaign trail.”
“They want you to run for office?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m to stop messing around with my little hobby and turn my mind to upholding the family name by running for the next open seat in congress.”
“Hobby? Didn’t I read an article that your company just landed a hundred-million-dollar government contract to upgrade electronic security for the military?”
“You did.” While he talked he opened the seating arrangement program. “And between that contract and Antonio selling me his share of the business, I’ve met a goal I set the day I opened my business.”
Clearly, resignation overshadowed pride, so she ventured, “You exceeded your father’s net worth?”
He shifted to study her. “So you’re psychic as well as a wedding planner?”
“When you work with people as closely as I do, you get to know how they think.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s an impressive accomplishment.”
The Sullivans came from old money made from banking and transportation. Their political dynasty went back several generations. “Your parents must be proud of you.”
“They didn’t even mention it. Too focused on when I’d leave it all behind and fall in line with my family obligations.” He tapped a few keys and her seating arrangement popped up on the screen. “Feels kind of hollow now.”
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t look up. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You mean it didn’t matter to them.”
He gave a negligent shrug. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
“Well, I officially call the parent battle a draw. I know it’s not the same but...congratulations.”
That earned her a half smile and a nod. Then he started to run her through the features of the computer program.
“This is fabulous.” All she had to do was type a name into a seat slot and all the notes associated with that name appeared sorted by category and importance. “You have saved me hours of work.”
His eyes gleamed as he went on to show her a few additional options. “And if you do this—” he punched a couple of keys “—it will auto-fill based on a selected category.” He clicked social standing and then pressed Enter. Names popped into assigned seats.
She blinked. “Wow. What do the colors mean?” Many of the names were in red and blue.
“Blue means there’s a conflict with someone else at the table. Red means there are two or more conflicts.”
While he showed her how to access the conflicts, she impulsively pressed the button to call the attendant. The blonde appeared with impressive speed, her smile dimming slightly when she saw Lindsay seated with Zach.
“How can I help you?”
“We’d like two glasses of champagne, please. And some strawberries if you have them.”
“I think I can find some. Be right back.”
“Champagne?” He cocked his head. “You turned it down earlier.”
“That was before. Now we have things to celebrate. I have this to help me finish my seating plan and you met a career-long goal.”
The attendant arrived with a tray, setting it down between them. “Buon appetito! Ms. Reeves, would you like us to do your turndown service now?”
“Sure.” Maybe the champagne would help her sleep. The woman turned away and Lindsay lifted a flute of bubbling gold wine. “To you. Congratulations and thank you.”
* * *
Zach lifted his flute and tapped it against Lindsay’s. “To you.” A crystal chime rang out as pretty as the sound of her laughter. Her simple gesture almost undid the butcher job his parent’s self-absorption had done to his pride. He didn’t get them, probably never would. They couldn’t spare the smallest show of affection. But this prickly little pixie put her animosity aside to toast his success.
She didn’t know him except as a helpful jerk and a few dry facts on paper. Heck, she hugged the window in an attempt to maintain her distance yet she still celebrated his accomplishment.
It almost made him feel bad about sabotaging the wedding.
IT WAS A drastic plan. One Zach took no pleasure in. But he’d do whatever necessary to ensure his friend didn’t suffer the frigid existence his parents called marriage. Antonio was already sacrificing his life for his country; selling off his business interests in America to Zach. He shouldn’t have to give up all chance of happiness, too.
Zach reluctantly agreed to be best man. He didn’t believe in big, lavish weddings. And he didn’t approve of Tony’s insane sacrifice. So why would