3. Valentina
3
VALENTINA
“ W e’ll set some dates at this meeting, and I’ll forward you the info as soon as I have it.” Traffic on 495 was light, meaning I could make good time on my way out to East Hampton the Monday after Rose’s engagement party.
We needed to hit the ground running on this, so I had my assistant already compiling potential vendor information and combing through lists of vendors we had partnered with in the past in hopes they’d be willing to do us a favor and rush a project. With all the events I’d planned and publicized, it meant having a deep well to draw from.
Bianca’s soft sigh didn’t give me much confidence. “It’s the second week in April already,” she reminded me.
“No kidding. That’s why the temperatures have been warming up.”
“I’m just saying. It would be one thing if a short timeline meant, like, September. We could handle that. But we’re heading into wedding season as it is.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” I assured her. She was an amazing assistant, but she had a habit of stating the obvious when I was already three steps ahead of her. Then again, I’d had nothing but time yesterday to stew over after waking up alone in my messy bed.
It’s for the best. I had spoken those words to myself so many times over the course of a rainy Sunday that they popped into my head before I could help it. It was for the best that he left. I wouldn’t have known what to say. Sorry, I needed something to take the pain away, and alcohol didn’t work. Yeah, no, even if it was the sad truth.
Things would be awkward enough the next time we saw each other, whenever that happened to be. No doubt it would be something wedding-related. My stomach felt a little queasy when I considered that. There would be plenty of things to do in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and of course, Colton would want Evan to be part of it.
Would anybody mind if I took a break from group functions for the rest of the summer?
“Did you hear me? Am I breaking up?” Bianca asked, raising her voice until it filled the inside of my Mercedes.
“You did cut out a little,” I lied, too busy thinking about the mistake I made two nights ago. “Run that by me again?”
“I said, my biggest concern is finding a venue. I mean, anybody with availability at this point is probably available because nobody wants them.”
“One thing at a time,” I urged. My head was starting to hurt. “Let me make this meeting, and I’ll fill you in as soon as I leave. Until then, take a breath and maybe a Valium.”
Ending the call, I took a breath of my own, then another, fighting to calm my nerves. It wasn’t the wedding on my mind. That I could plan and execute a showstopper on short notice in my sleep.
How could he have left without saying a word? No note, no text, nothing. All he’d done was clean up after we left the food lying out.
Was I surprised? I knew better than to expect anything from him. He had already disappointed me once. Maybe the worst a person could be. More than that, he never apologized. Why apologize now for punking out on me like he had? Time hadn’t granted him the balls to own up to the things he did.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, yet I couldn’t keep the memories and the subsequent letdown from playing on a never-ending loop.
There was a hell of a lot more going on in my life than screwing up and fucking Evan. My stupid body insisted on reminding me how good it was—maybe the best ever, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted the sex to be forgettable, for it to fade into the background of my memory the way other partners had. But no, the idiot had to go and make me come three times, and hard enough that I basically passed out in the end.
Was it wrong that I wanted it again?
Of course, it was. Terribly so, not to mention incredibly stupid. Sure, why not walk headfirst into a mistake? And that’s what it would have been. Because I knew him, and I knew what was waiting for me if I let myself get involved. It was one thing for a na?ve, eighteen-year-old kid to fall for a boy who broke her heart. I was twenty-eight now, and my eyes were wide-fucking-open.
I was grateful when my exit came up. It meant I could busy my mind with something productive instead of the downward spiral I was heading.
Arriving at the store was a breath of fresh air. Rose and Colton had worked so hard to turn an old bank into a showplace featuring Farrah Goldsmith couture. Stepping inside, I found a handful of women my mother’s age talking with one of the stylists while preparing for some big event.
I headed straight back to Rose’s office, tapping on the closed door and waiting for her to call out. “Yes?”
“Just me.” I stepped into the cozy space and closed the door, cutting off the overlapping voices outside. “No offense, but you don’t look so great.”
“I feel even worse than I look.” She pushed her chair back from the desk and reached between her calves, holding up a wastebasket for me to see. “Just in case I have to hurl.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Poor thing.” Funny, but I could handle talking about the baby now. It was just the shock on Saturday night that had me reeling and making incredibly unwise decisions. That was all. “Do you want me to go out and, I don’t know, get you ginger ale or something? Saltines?”
“I already have a sleeve of crackers, and this is ginger ale in my cup.” She held up a pink tumbler, sipping from the straw. “I can’t let it paralyze me, and they say it only lasts a little while. Not the whole nine months.”
I dropped into a chair on the other side of her desk and set my bag on the floor at my feet. “That’s good. So hopefully, by the time the wedding comes, this part will have passed.”
“Fingers crossed. So, since we’re on the subject…”
“Yes. The wedding you got me to agree to plan without telling me you were pregnant.”
She winced, briefly closing her eyes. “I know, I know. I should have mentioned it. But we wanted to wait until it seemed like everything was okay. You know?”
I knew very well, and the knowledge was a fist clenching my heart until it ached. “So what are we thinking?” I asked, pulling out my tablet and stylus to take notes. “Have you thought about dates?”
“I’ve thought about not wanting to look like a whale in my wedding gown,” she explained with a grimace. “Which means it needs to be, like, soon. Very soon. ”
“How soon are we talking?” I asked while my heart threatened to crawl up into my throat.
“I’m around twelve weeks now. I haven’t popped or anything, and I read it can take longer to show with the first baby. So maybe another… two months? At the most?” Her shoulders hunched up around her ears, cringing like she was waiting for me to hit her.
Two months. While it wasn’t really a surprise, I was hoping for a little more time. Would it have been so much to ask? “Okay,” I murmured, pulling up a calendar to look for dates.
“It’s impossible, isn’t it?” she fretted. “I knew it would be.”
One thing I knew about pregnant women was that it was a good idea to keep them calm whenever possible. “Hey. I’ve got this. Or have you completely lost faith in me?” I questioned.
Only a touch of the strain on her face melted away. “I know how incredible you are, but I know there’s no such thing as actual miracles.”
“You might be surprised.” Did I mean a word of what I said? No way. Inside, I was shaking, even panicking a little. Two months tops when June was the busiest month for weddings as it was. Two months to pull off something great, something worthy of the names Black and Goldsmith.
Money wouldn’t be an issue. That much I knew for sure. Ari Goldsmith would spare no expense to make sure his daughter had the wedding of her dreams. And anything he couldn’t or wouldn’t provide, Barrett Black definitely would. I didn’t think that would be an issue, though. Not when it came to the apple of Ari’s eye. But money could only get me so far, even with the inevitable rush fees I would pay.
What I couldn’t do was free up a ballroom already taken by another party. In the end, that would be my biggest concern. Where to have the damn thing. “Are you set on Manhattan?” I asked. It wasn’t easy to sound casual, even as I crossed my fingers and hoped for the answer I needed.
“Oh, no. If anything, I would like to have it somewhere outside of town. Maybe out here, Martha’s Vineyard, Cape Cod. That sort of thing. I’m open to all sorts of ideas.” Tapping her chin, she added, “It sucks they’re doing work up at the estate until July, or I would say we could hold it there. That’s where my parents had their wedding.”
“Right. Something about replacing the old windows?” I asked, vaguely recalling overhearing Mom chatting it over with Olivia.
“And the roof needs fixing on the east side,” she confirmed with a sigh. “That storm we had a couple of weeks ago did damage to some of the shingles. It’s an old place.”
What exquisite timing. Even Mother Nature wanted to throw me a curveball. I smiled through my growing panic. “That’s because there’s another even more perfect place out there. And I’ll find it. I’ll have Bianca start making calls right now.” I pulled out my phone to send her a text, which would only make her blood pressure shoot through the roof. At least she could freak out while I was two hours away and might have the worst of it out of her system by the time I returned.
“Hey, I heard there’s a wedding planning meeting going on.” Colton’s deep voice rang through the room before he entered, carrying a small bag with a pharmacy logo stamped on the front. “Your nausea pills,” he announced, holding up the bag like a trophy.
“The doctor prescribed them…” Rose explained. “But I didn’t really need them filled until now. It seems like it’s getting worse.” They shared a kiss before Colton popped the bottle open and tipped a pill into her open palm. It was little gestures like that that warmed my heart.
They also left me feeling a little bit jealous, and that wasn’t like me.
Damn Evan.
Damn past.
Damn inability to move on the way I thought I had after a handful of relationships and many more casual flings that went nowhere.
“How’s it going?” Colton asked me. “What do you think? Can we pull it off?”
“I think it’s cute that you use the word we ,” I retorted, sticking out my tongue. “But yeah. It’ll be totally fine. I know what I’m doing. Don’t you worry.”
Rose couldn’t let it go because that wasn’t how she did things. “I’m just worried there won’t be any place available. Tell me the truth. Are we going to end up having this at a Taco Bell or something?”
“I was thinking McDonald’s,” I countered. “They still have those Playland things for kids, right? With the slides and whatnot. So, we have entertainment for the young ones.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Colton perched on the corner of the desk, shrugging. “Why don’t we ask Evan? He is running, what, three of the family’s country clubs now? Four? I lost count.”
Funny how Evan never offered that the other night when I mentioned how stressed I was about a venue. It confirmed what I already knew. He would always make himself the priority.
Rose’s eyes lit up while my stomach dropped. If things got much worse, it would be me sitting with a wastebasket between my legs. “Sure. I could call him,” I offered, since what else was I supposed to do? Rose was pleading with me, hanging on my every word like they were her lifeline.
“I know he could make it work. He’s got what? There’s one on the Vineyard. There’s the one in Greenwich…” He held up two fingers. “Or are there two on the Vineyard? Fuck, I’ve lost track.”
“I’ll call him,” I repeated. Did I sound a little sharp? Maybe. Maybe the idea of having to talk to Evan after he snuck off on me made me feel a little sharp.
Then again, what the hell was I thinking? This was good. I doubted he would have any availability, but I would try anyway because I’d be damned if he would get away with sneaking out with no explanation.
I didn’t exactly want one. I only wanted him to squirm a little. That was the least he owed me.
“I’ll step out right now and give him a call,” I offered, already halfway out of my chair. “Be right back.”
My legs trembled as I left the office, exiting through the back door that opened onto a small parking lot. I wasn’t sure what I wanted the answer to be as I pulled up Evan’s contact in my phone. Yes, it would make life a hell of a lot easier if he had an available date that fell within Rose’s timeframe. Did I want a reason to have to spend time with him, though? Things hadn’t exactly gone spectacularly on Saturday, orgasms aside.
Part of me didn’t expect him to answer, the coward. But he did, and only after one ring. “Hey. I’m glad you called,” he said before I had the chance to speak. “I was hoping you would.”
Why did his voice have to sound so warm, rich, and friendly? Intimate. And why didn’t it make me feel uncomfortable? No, the opposite was true. My chest warmed, and a smile tipped the corners of my mouth.
Until I remembered what a cowardly little prick he was for running out. “Well, I’d like to say I wanted to make sure you were still alive… like you weren’t captured or something. Sucked up into the sky.”
“No, I’m still here on solid ground. Listen?—”
“There’s no time for that. There’s no time for much of anything,” I said, interrupting and closing my eyes, crossing my fingers. “We’re in a jam here. I’ve got eight weeks to make this wedding happen, tops. I have no clue how I’m supposed to make it all work, but I’ll figure it out. The only thing I’m concerned with is the venue. Colton suggested I call you to see if you have any availability at one of your country clubs.”
“Eight weeks.” He blew out a soft whistle that had a strange effect on me.
I didn’t love the idea of making a hundred phone calls, begging for a favor, basically crawling on my belly and promising the world to whoever would let us hold the wedding under their roof. But considering the effect Evan’s voice had on me when he first answered my call, begging for favors and crawling on my belly sounded like it might be the safer bet.
“Give me a second.” I heard him typing in the background.
Please, please. Only, what was I silently praying for? The best for Rose and Colton. That was what mattered. Not my heart, not my past, certainly not my body. Or his. Or what they did when they got together .
“Dammit,” he growled out. “I forgot they’re upgrading the booking system, so I can’t access the full calendar of events at all locations right now.”
“My luck continues to improve,” I groaned out.
“Why don’t you come out to the Greenwich office tomorrow?” he suggested. “The system will be up and running. I’m sure we can make something work.”
A face-to-face meeting tomorrow. I started the call, determined to make him squirm, yet I was the one who suddenly felt all hot and itchy at the idea of being in the same room with him.
Somebody up there was having the laugh of the century at my expense.
“Sounds good, if you can swing it,” I offered. “It’s short notice and all.”
“I’ll make time for you,” he promised. How could such a simple statement make my insides go warm and liquid while freezing my heart solid?
He hadn’t made time for me when I’d needed him the most.