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Anyway, Chrissy and I are figuring out the seating arrangements and tables for the wedding. I’d love it if you’d give me a call back. She’s stressing over seating charts and wants to know if you’re bringing a date. I told her it didn’t matter, we’d make room whether you brought someone or not, but she wants everything to be perfect . . .
Marti breathed through the fire burning in her chest, then unclenched the hand strangling her mouse. With a single click, she deleted the email. Problem solved.
Chrissy wanted everything to be perfect? Yeah, well, so did Marti’s mother. All she wanted was a husband who didn’t cheat on her. She wanted someone honest, someone she could trust, who would stick by her side.
All I wanted was a father who cared enough to stick around. Instead, I was an inconvenience. I was second fiddle to a woman he betrayed his family for, a relationship that didn’t even stick.
Marti squeezed her eyes shut as the familiar pain lanced through her. The look on her father’s face the day he’d left sliced a hole in her heart. He was cast in shadows, his kind eyes darkened by the half-light of the open door. Crickets sang in the background and a dog barked in the distance. He promised nothing would change, that he’d still be there. But he wasn’t. Not even close. Not even a little bit until years later.
She opened her eyes and swallowed the acid in her throat.
Looks like Chrissy and Dear ‘ol Dad would just have to wait a while longer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LOGAN
LOGAN SANK DOWN INTO the rattan chair, soaking in the sunshine streaming through the giant picture window of his father’s sunroom. It felt good, the light—revitalizing in a way he needed. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since the gala Friday night.
He took a sip of his coffee, thinking back over the evening. Marti was a spitfire. And he liked it. A lot. Far more than he should, considering she had zero interest in him. Or maybe it was only committed relationships she had no interest in.
What was he saying? That he wanted a fling with Marti McBride?
He shook his head in an effort to
clear his thoughts. Trying to tell himself it was a terrible idea to act on his bone-deep attraction to her. Especially since he planned to convince her she needed to see him again.
“She’s absolutely stunning.” His sister’s voice yanked him back to the present.
He glanced up as she set her bagel and coffee down on the small table in front of them. The curly light brown hair she inherited from their mother framed her face like a halo, and a spattering of freckles decorated her nose. It was hard to believe his baby sister was all grown up. Soon, she’d be a college graduate setting out on her own.
She shook out the entertainment section of the paper, which happened to feature a giant picture of him with Marti. To say the media had exploded with insinuations about their supposed relationship was an understatement, so when his sister called him and insisted he come for breakfast Sunday at his dad’s, he figured there was no avoiding the inevitable. She would want to talk about Marti. No point in fighting it. If it wasn’t in person, it would be over FaceTime because she’d call him relentlessly until he eventually gave in. If there was one thing about his sister that was consistent, it was her persistence in hounding him about topics he preferred to avoid. And she was particularly vigilant when it came to his love life.
“She’s not bad,” Logan said, casually.
“Not bad?” Brittney glanced up at him from the paper like he was insane, her hazel eyes wide. While he was their father made over, she was the spitting image of their mother. Sometimes it almost hurt to look at her. It was like rewinding the clock to a time when he was a kid and everything was as it should be. Then again, they didn’t have Brittney back then.
“She’s a bombshell, and you know it.”
Logan shrugged.
Brittney narrowed her eyes. “Okay, spill.” She set the newspaper down and reached for her mug, taking a huge sip.
“There’s not much to tell.”
She scoffed and tapped the paper. “Says here you’re an item. That’s news to me.”
To me too. Though, he supposed if he was going to sell Marti the idea of continuing their relationship, he might as well get their story straight—test it out on his sister so to speak.
“We met a little over a week ago. At a dive bar in the city.”
“Classy.”
A slight smile touched his lips. “We hit it off. It was an instant attraction, love at first sight kind of stuff.” He wondered how Marti would react to his description of their first encounter.
His sister hummed in response, then pursed her lips.
“But we left things there,” Logan continued. “I didn’t actually get her number that night because I could tell she didn’t want anything serious. So, I left it at that, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. And, then, boom!” He clapped, and Brittney jumped. “Fate brought us back together again a few days later at my office. It turns out, one of her best friends is my patient, and she had an assignment she needed to interview me for, and Marti went with her.”
