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“So,” the brother’s wife turned her eyes to me, “I hear you and John are both doctors who deliver babies.”
That came out of nowhere, I thought with a look of confusion.
“Uh, yes,” I smiled. “It’s how we met.”
“That’s interesting,” she sipped her champagne, her brown eyes darting to John’s mom, then back to me. “I refused to give birth in a hospital when my daughter was born.”
“A fact you love reminding everyone about whenever you can,” John stated dryly. “What has this to do with your husband’s toast, Melissa?”
“I am just curious,” she answered John’s stern expression.
“Curious,” John said, his brows knitted together, “or finding a way to sling an insult at someone you feel is beneath your status? A status that, I’ll remind you, you only have because you married into my family.”
I didn’t know when John had reached his boiling point, but it happened, and I had no idea where this would head.
“That’s enough, John,” his father said in a low, authoritative voice.
I eyed John, seeing him clench his fist over his knee.
“I agree,” he said, sipping his champagne. “While we’re on the subject of hospitals and this one,” he nodded in annoyance toward Sebastian’s wife, “opting for home delivery, does she know that this family donates large sums to hospitals? Seems like a waste not to utilize them.”
“I’m not sure I follow you,” his father answered.
“No? I spoke with James Mitchell in Aspen when you and Mother so graciously allowed Jenkins and his staff to spy on us, and he mentioned your exceedingly generous donations to Saint John’s. So generous, in fact, that no one else has ever matched one in amount or frequency.”
I watched as both parents looked at John, and if their looks could turn him to ash, he’d be blowing in the breeze.
“Interesting. I was under the impression that Mr. Mitchell was a savvy businessman, not at all the type to gossip about sensitive information,” the father answered.
“Gossip?” John shot back. “Forgive me, but you misunderstand. He didn’t tell me anything that wasn’t accessible information via Saint John’s transparency policy through the Board of Directors. He merely extended his appreciation and gratitude for your donations on my behalf. They’ve used the funds to build more outpatient and specialized training facilities, as well as pioneering endeavors for multiple clinics in underprivileged communities. Luckily, he’s such a savvy businessman that the hospital has done all these things with your generosity, and they haven’t had to rely on a cent. Isn’t that remarkable?”
“Is that so?” his mother questioned with a venomous tone.
“That is so,” John snapped. “I just thought you’d both be thrilled that the hospital isn’t dependent upon your contributions. You know, in case something arises, and you choose to move your donations elsewhere.”
“We will discuss this no further,” John’s mother spoke, eyeing her husband, then standing. “There are guests to attend to. They’ve come to celebrate what is likely to be the last beautiful wedding of this family.”
I had no idea what the hell was happening, but it felt like the first of many bombs had just been detonated. The look on Mark’s face matched John’s expression, which made it clear they were both ready to lose their shit.
“There’s no need for that,” Mark said, Pollyanna standing at his side, tugging on his arm, and trying to make him stand. “There will be no wedding tomorrow.”
“Don’t play games,” John’s mother said, staring daggers at Mark.
“I’m not playing games.” Mark stood and looked at his dad while Pollyanna watched nervously. She must’ve known better than to interject during this family discussion, even when it had everything to do with her. “I’ve seen enough to show me that my entire life is a game, a joke. From the sound of John’s assessment of your charitable donations, it seems you’ve been playing games behind his back as well. If you want Pollyanna in this family so badly, then marry her to John,” he snapped, “but I’m done trying to please parents who are insatiable. I would put a bullet in my?—”
“That’s enough, Mark,” John spoke, his voice nervous. “I’ll get him out of here. It seems everything tonight has been a bit overwhelming.” He looked at Pollyanna, who stood in shock, looking as if she’d stumbled upon a dead body. “Let’s get him some air and cool things off a bit.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” his mother said. She looked at me, “Perhaps you would like to dismiss yourself to your room.”
“She won’t be dismissing herself anywhere,” John said, taking control of this sudden shit show. “She’ll be coming with me and my brother, as I’m quite confident she’s endured more than enough of everyone here tonight. Goodnight.”
With that final dismissal, John gripped my hand protectively as he led me out of the hall and through a private door, his brother following alongside. I expected the night to be eventful, but I had no idea it would end like this.
Chapter Forty-Five
John
A hundred things were running through my mind as I led Mickie and Mark from the hotel, but the only one that mattered was what the hell I was supposed to do now. If I didn’t pull something out of my ass quickly to stop my brother from becoming the runaway groom, all hell would bust loose, and I didn’t want to be in a thousand-mile radius of this place if that happened.
