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Nine
She didn’t spot Bran the next morning when she ventured out of her hotel room for breakfast. Nor did she run into him at the pool in the afternoon. There was no sign of his shiny red sports car from her window, but then again she only had a partial view of the parking area.
Evidently he’d changed his mind about staying the weekend, which ushered in feelings of relief and regret simultaneously. She knew turning him down was the right thing to do, but her hormones didn’t.
She’d lain awake last night and thought of how she could have handled their conversation better. She could have talked to him about it—logically. She could have discussed parameters. She could have politely said she wasn’t interested and then finished her dinner. Instead she’d overreacted, stood and stormed out.
God, she might have lost her job...
Not that Bran would fire her for turning down a weekend tryst. He’d never technically mentioned sex. He’d told her he wasn’t her boss here. Which meant whatever happened between them happened outside of her contract at work.
Yes, definitely she could have handled last night better.
She chose the understated knee-length black cocktail dress for the somber gathering tonight. Joe wouldn’t like it, but then again, he wasn’t here. So there.
She blinked back tears, wishing he was here. He’d know what to say to her about this mess with Bran. Hell, he’d said it last Christmas when she’d shared in passing that she had a crush on her hot boss.
Go get ’im, Addi. Life is short.
Remembering those words made her suspect that she really had screwed up last night.
The wake was held in the Violet Ballroom. After passing the Clover Room and the Poppy Room, she’d figured out the ballrooms were named for flowers and not for colors. The decor in the Violet Ballroom wasn’t purple but an understated and masculine navy and gold. A wide chandelier cast warm lighting over patterned carpet and the well-dressed crowd, mostly in black attire, milled around with drinks in hand admiring the photographs dotted throughout.
Joe’s handsome, smiling face, surrounded by a gilded frame, welcomed visitors at the front. A table with candles and memorabilia and more photos stood at the back.
She’d arrived a few minutes before they were scheduled to start and the room was already packed. Some people she recognized as Joe’s friends or family, others she’d never met.
His parents emerged from a small group and spotted her. The last time she’d seen Elsa and Randy Hart Addi had been packing up her desk at Hart Media. Since then, her parents had shared that the Harts didn’t think much of her leaving them in a lurch.
“Beautiful Addison.” Elsa Hart extended her arms and pulled Addi into a brief hug. Addi embraced Joe’s mother, taken aback by the affection. “It’s been too long.”
“Yes. Yes, it has.”
“Addi, Addi. Oh, we’ve missed you.” Randy kissed her lightly on the cheek.
“I’m so sorry about Joe. I was honored to be included on the guest list.”
“As if there was any doubt. You meant the world to him.” Elsa’s smile was warm. “He had it all planned, paid for and arranged.” She blinked away fresh tears.
Randy wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist in support.
“Are your parents coming?” Elsa’s voice went flat, clearly hinting there was some love lost between them.
“No. Not yet.”
“Well, do send them our way. It’s been too long since we’ve spoken. And help yourself to a cocktail,” Elsa added, cheerier than before.
“I’m told the emcee will be making some sort of announcement soon.” Randy grunted. “After all that boy put us through, he’s springing a surprise emcee on us, too?” He winked to show he was joking, his own eyes misting over. They all missed Joe so much.
Addi moved to the back of the room and meandered along the table stacked with trophies, ribbons and report cards Joe’s parents had displayed. She smiled back at another large photo of Joe. His cheeks were healthy and full instead of skeletal like they’d been when she’d seen him last. Next to the framed photo was a memory board filled with photos from his life.
She traced her fingertip over the photos of her and Joe—one of him kissing her cheek, eyes closed while she grinned at the camera. That was Joe’s twenty-first birthday. And another from a few years later, of them dancing at his parents’ wedding anniversary party. The photo showed a scene more intimate than she remembered. Addi’s eyes were focused across the room, but Joe’s gaze was unmistakably pinned to her.
She’d never seen this photo before, and now that she was older and wiser, she saw something there she’d never seen before. Longing.
Joe was looking at her the way she looked at Bran. She watched Bran with a similar want. Meanwhile Bran lived his life in ignorant bliss.
Heart thudding, she turned away from the photo to catch her breath. It couldn’t be true...could it?
