Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Dylan’s stress hit Raleigh like a wall of Black Friday shoppers at Bloomingdales as they entered the lobby and headed toward the restaurant for the welcome dinner.
He’d become increasingly tense on the walk over.
He wasn’t the only one. She glanced over her shoulder.
The back of her neck tingled, as if someone was watching her.
In response she drew her shoulders up higher.
No. She wouldn’t let her stalker ruin this. The incident back in the room was pure imagination mixed with being overtired and super stressed. She forced her shoulders down. Time to put the sensation, and suspicion, out of her mind.
She realized with a start that the miserable people reflected in one of the many mirrors in the opulent lobby were her and Dylan.
Their ruse was going to be pretty obvious to everyone if they didn’t pull it together.
She was not, under any circumstances, telling Lydia Harris that she was being stalked and the stalker might actually crash the wedding.
OMG! Lydia would lose her shit. Yeah, no, that couldn’t come out. Like ever.
Talk about career suicide.
She grabbed Dylan’s arm and tugged him over to the lobby bar. He shot her a questioning glance but allowed himself to be led.
“Look, we’re both so tense no one is going to believe we’re together. We need to relax. I could use a shot of liquid courage. How about you?”
He looked slightly offended, but his expression turned chagrined. “Sorry. You’re right. It’s just kind of harder than I thought.”
“Well, you are about to walk into a room full of people who know you dumped the bride. That’s tough. Wait, isn’t her fiancée a police officer of some kind? Some sort of computer genius with a badge. At least that’s what Lydia said. She commented he has a bright future in tech.”
Dylan nodded.
“It’s a hell of an ego hit.” She nodded toward the bottles behind the bar. “No one would blame you one bit.” She rubbed her neck. “The stalker thing is getting to me. I keep seeing things that aren’t there.”
Dylan tensed more that he had been on the walk over. “What?” he demanded.
“I feel… I’m sure someone is watching me.”
Dylan frowned, the wariness back in his eyes. Great. They were back in whack-a-doodle territory. Why didn’t she keep her big mouth shut?
“Seriously, all I’m saying is we’re both stressed out, so if you need a minute and a drink to get it together, I understand.
” She took a deep breath. “If you want to leave, I’ll make up an excuse.
” Her stomach cramped at the thought of being here alone, but one look at Dylan’s face told her he was suffering.
It sucked to be stuck somewhere and in this type of situation; going through hell didn’t really describe it.
He shook his head as he plunked down on a bar stool. “I’m okay.” He rolled his shoulders.
“Look,” she said, “we can do this. The truth is I need this weekend away from everything. I haven’t slept or eaten right in so long I can’t remember what it feels like.
I hate that some stranger has so much control over my life.
” His face softened, but she put her hand up.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.
I know my stalker story seems farfetched, and you still aren’t sure whether to believe me.
I understand that. I’m just glad you’re here to have my back, even if you are a troublemaker. ” She winked.
A real smile broke out on his face. “I appreciate your honesty. You know, I had to face up to Jenn getting married at some point. Much better to do it head-on than pretend it’s not happening. It’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
She nodded. God knew, she had put on a happy face enough times at social events growing up. Suck it up, Buttercup had been her personal credo for years. In the end, it was just better to get it over with then try to postpone.
Her mother had taught her to walk with a stiff spine and enter the room like she belonged there. She supposed she should be grateful for that because those hard-learned lessons were going to come in handy in the next few minutes.
Dylan reached up and touched her cheek. “You’re right. We’re in it together. We can do this.” He rolled his shoulders one more time. Then, leaning forward, he kissed her cheek and brought her in close for a tight hug. “Thanks for the pep-talk,” he whispered in her ear.
“There you are!” The voice was so close it startled them both, and Dylan abruptly released her. Raleigh almost lost her balance, but he grabbed her arm and steadied her.
Jenn was leaning on the bar a couple of feet away.
The bride-to-be was dressed in a cornflower-blue, figure-hugging, haute couture outfit that Raleigh was sure she’d seen on the runway during the Milan fashion week at the beginning of the year.
Jenn looked stunning. Her blond hair shone in the light, and the dress brought out the blue of her eyes.
How long had she been standing there? And why the hell did she have that huge fake smile plastered all over her face? The whole situation made Raleigh uneasy. What was Jenn up to?
Jenn gave her an assessing look as she moved closer.
Man, it was surprising how much jealousy could be packed into a tight designer dress.
Raleigh almost didn’t have the heart to keep up the ruse.
Almost. After all, if Jenn was still this hung up on Dylan, then she shouldn’t be marrying someone else.
“Yes, here we are,” Raleigh purred. “We were just—”
“Great,” Jenn cut her off. “Dylan, you need to come and say hello to everyone. They are as surprised as I am that you’re here.”
“Ah, sure.” He stood up, and Jenn immediately snagged one of his arms. He offered the other one to Raleigh, and they exchanged a look. Who was everyone?
She had no idea what Jenn’s sudden change of heart might mean, but she was sure it wasn’t good.