Chapter 53
After the ceremony, friends of Scoot and Rill surrounded Ingrid, kissing and hugging her and admiring her beautiful dress. They exclaimed how glad they were that she was able to fill in for Poppy. How proud Edie would’ve been of her. How blessed Sailor was to have a friend like her.
In the clamor, she lost track of Miles, only to find him later at the dinner, at the Hotel Bardo, in the upstairs private club.
He was surrounded by a group of strangers, definitely not guests of the wedding, doing shots.
She hurried back downstairs before he saw her, secretly grateful she didn’t have to babysit him.
After that she was swept back to the Loeffler mansion, up to Sailor’s room to be fitted into Poppy’s black satin and white lace reception dress.
Assistants fluttered around her and the other women again, her hair and makeup retouched and re-fluffed, while photographers documented everything.
When Sailor appeared in her grandmother Louise’s remade dress, she squealed along with the others.
The silk shantung shortened to a structural mini was a show-stopper.
When Sailor came over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and whisper in her ear, “Nice dress you got me,” Ingrid nearly bubbled over with joy.
She practically floated downstairs and onto Cas’s arm, who was waiting with Jude and the rest of the groomsmen to escort the women to the square for their introductions.
It was their first moment alone, since before the wedding, and he swallowed nervously, his voice almost so low she couldn’t hear it.
“I need to tell you something, Ingrid.”
Ingrid stilled. The look on his face made her heart swoop down in a dangerous arc.
“I wanted to tell you, face-to-face. Not ghost you, like before.” Cas swallowed with difficulty.
“It’s going to be a while before we can see each other.
I just have so much to do at the company.
And I promised my dad …” His eyes went cloudy and skittered away.
“I told my dad I would give my new job all my attention. Because that’s what our family’s company deserves. ”
“If that’s what you want,” she said.
He hesitated, seeming to search for words. “His support means everything to me. He’s my father and I love him.”
Ingrid waited. “So it’s just for a little while, then? Later on we can hang out?”
His eyes locked onto hers. “Actually … he asked me to stay away from you. For good.”
“Oh.”
Cas nodded once then ducked his chin.
“You could still text me. I wouldn’t mind that.” She held her breath, willing away any tears, but she shouldn’t have worried. There were no tears, just a blank, sort of disconnected feeling that enveloped her now.
He shook his head, blushing an intense pink. “We shouldn’t do that either. I’m really sorry, Ingrid. I really am.”
She stared at him, disbelieving. Rill had been right after all. Cas was immature and untrustworthy, and he would hurt her. He was doing it now.
Coward. He would never fight for what he wanted. He would never fight for her.
“Sure.” She turned away, floating in that numb state, and let herself be pulled into the crowd.
After the official introductions of the wedding party and the bride and groom, and all the family dances, the two marquee bands took the stage.
Ingrid had been to a handful of concerts before, but only in the cheap seats in the nosebleed section of Enmarket Arena.
Nothing could compare with the feeling of being right there in front of a band, feeding off the energy they were putting out and sending it right back to them.
In spite of the hole that Cas just blown through her, Ingrid could still feel the electricity.
She joined Sailor and the other women on the dance floor, determined to forget her troubles and celebrate her friend.
Drink in hand, she let out every ounce of her frustration to the pounding beat of the music.
She drank and danced and drank some more, even taking a turn around the floor with Scoot during Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September.” The whole time she never caught a glimpse of Cas in the melee of bodies in the square—and she was grateful for it.
She only wanted to think about happy things tonight.
I gather the light …
I gather the music …
I gather every single thing in this good world that I deserve …
When the DJ took over, she realized she was reeling and should probably find some water. She saw Boney, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, signature top hat on his head, dancing with Calla. She pointed a playfully accusatory finger at him. He grinned, sent her an innocent look that said, who, me?
Back on the dance floor, Ingrid found herself once again spinning around the room, bouncing from group to group, dancing with all.
At one point, she thought she saw Miles, dancing with a girl who looked familiar.
A lot like the bartender from the Peregrin.
Dara, Danny … she couldn’t be bothered to remember.
She danced on, and toward the end of the song, she abruptly found herself caught in a man’s strong, assured arms.
Jude.
He smiled down at her and swung her into a dip. Ingrid yelped then burst into laughter.
“I think I’m drunk,” she said.
“I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you,” he said in his crisp accent. “Before Sailor did.”
Ingrid frowned. “Why?”
“She’s a bit nervous about giving you the news.”
Her legs suddenly felt heavy and wooden. She was glad Jude was holding her. “What news?”
“She and I are going to London for a year after the honeymoon. I’m opening a new line of boutique hotels and she’s going to help me.”
Ingrid absorbed his words. Sailor, in England? It couldn’t be true …
“Ingrid?”
“Oh, sorry. Congratulations.” He spun her around.
“She knows how you depend on her.” He gave her a little pat on the back.
“But she’ll be back. And you know, getting married does change things.
See those blokes over there?” He nodded at a cluster of men in tuxedos, laughing and drinking.
“I barely see them anymore. They’ve got their wives—husband, in one case—and children, and it’s just what happens.
But Sailor loves you, and you’ve an open invitation at our house in London, yeah? ”
Someone pulled at Jude’s arm, one of his friends, and Jude released Ingrid. He nodded at her and she back at him, and then he was sucked back into the crowd. She watched him go, her heart knocking in her chest.
Sailor, gone … for a whole year?
She felt the long-awaited, hot tears pressing her eyes at last. A sob choking her throat. Why couldn’t Sailor have told her this? They’d had all that time at the house before the wedding. And she wasn’t even supposed to be there. When had Sailor planned to tell her?
First Cas, now Sailor …
She started back toward the house—to hide her tears, to hide herself—when she felt herself grabbed again, then enveloped in strong arms. Rill Loeffler was now holding her close, expertly maneuvering her to the edge of the square.
She clung to him. There was nothing else to do.
“Why, hello there.” He encircled her lower back with one arm and spun her farther away to a secluded, shadowy corner of the park.
“Hi,” she said in a hollow tone, lowering her chin against his shoulder.
He held her close. “My little, tipsy, pirate wench.”
She said nothing. Figs and cognac mixed with pain overwhelmed her.
“Come on, it’s a compliment, Ingrid.” He whirled her around, deeper into the shadows. “You look like a fucking dream, you know that? In that little dress.”
She couldn’t even work up the emotion to enjoy the compliment. To be mad at him. She was empty inside. “You should keep your eyes on your wife,” she said.
“I can look more than one direction at once. I don’t wear blinders.”
“Maybe you should.”
He laughed. “Saucy, drunk, little wench. I guess you’ve heard the news about Sailor and Jude.” He tightened his grip on her. “Don’t be sad about it, Ingrid. I’ve had an idea. A you-me-fly-to-Scotland kind of idea.”
“What are you talking about?” She knew she sounded annoyed. Snippy, even, but she didn’t care.
“My grandfather—the one who invented Savannah Sauce—joined a golf club in St. Andrews back in 19-whatever so he could play the world-class courses there. We own a cottage in Strathkinness … well, it’s technically more like a castle than a cottage, but, whatever, semantics.
We wouldn’t have to play golf. In fact, I’m assuming you don’t play—”
He guided her easily on the dance floor with strong, practiced arms. “I’m thinking a little hiking, sitting by the fire, reading books, and drinking good, single malt Macallan.
We could sleep late, going to bed early …
” He nuzzled his cheek against hers. And then this, softly, in her ear, “It’s a surprisingly cozy castle. ”
She shook her head, but she had to repress the manic laughter that almost came bubbling up her throat. Maybe it was just a hysterical response to being propositioned right after she’d had her heart broken by both of this man’s children. Maybe she secretly liked the idea that Rill wanted her.
Or maybe she was just a very bad person.
“Ingrid?” Rill said softly into her ear. “Are you mad at me? Don’t be mad at me. Say something.”
She steeled herself. If he wanted to play this game, she would. “You said you were the one who found the flowers Sailor wanted. And the harpist and the designer.”
“Did I?” He looked amused. “I don’t remember saying it exactly like that. You were pretty out of it that day at Lombardy’s. I don’t know if you remember.”
“I remember,” she said evenly.
“Okay, look. Fine. If I took credit for your work, Ingrid, I apologize. But I do like to think I had a hand in making this day perfect for my daughter. There’s something else bothering you, I think,” he pressed. “Is it Cas?”
She said nothing. He wouldn’t get that from her.
He gathered her even closer. “Haven’t you wondered why all he ever did was text you?”
She avoided his gaze.
“It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he has trouble with the real thing. The thing that no one should ever have a problem with when it comes to you.”
“‘The real thing.’ What’s that?” she asked, sending him a caustic eye roll.
“Sex,” Rill said simply.