15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Frankie
“ A -ma-zing,” Frankie whistled as she walked into the banquet hall at Bella Notte, the only Italian restaurant in downtown Leavenworth. Strings of white lights twinkled between the rustic beams holding up the low ceiling. Iridescent white balloons clustered around the perimeter of the room, camouflaging the bulk of the dark, outdated wood paneling. Mellow jazz drifted from speakers in all four corners at a volume that couldn’t be more pleasant. To one side stood a long table covered end to end in food-warming trays. The waft of Parmesan cheese and garlic permeated the room. The scent was so delicious that Frankie half expected a cartoon hand made of mist to escape a lid and lure her over to the fettuccine Alfredo.
The transformation from musty restaurant basement to elegant banquet setting was so remarkable that Frankie didn’t protest—or notice at all—when Benjamin helped her remove her coat.
She scanned the crowd and laid eyes on Jonathan first. He stood toward the middle of the room, arm securely wrapped around Lucy’s shoulders, beaming like a fool in love.
“Think we should go say hello?” The velvety voice tickled her neck and she shuddered before she realized it was Benjamin conferring with her like they were some kind of co-conspirators.
Instead of responding, she marched over to her brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law. Lucy spotted her first and squealed with delight. She detangled herself from her fiancée and practically skipped over to wrap Frankie in a disproportionately tight hug. How that woman could squeeze so tightly was a mystery.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she gushed, gliding her hand along the sleek waves framing Frankie’s face. “You look beautiful. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you all gussied up before.”
“Probably not. Jeans with a sweater is about as fancy as I usually get.”
Lucy smiled warmly and flitted her eyes back and forth between Frankie and whoever stood just behind her. The bride-to-be leaned in a little, wiggled her eyebrows, and asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your hunky date?”
Frankie’s eyes widened in alarm before she steadied her features. “He’s not my date. This is—”
“Benji!” Jonathan bellowed. He rushed over and wrapped his arms around his friend.
“ This is Benji?” Lucy leaned over and murmured behind her hand, “What a dish?”
“I’m sorry you mean dick , right?”
Lucy peeled her gaze away from the two men embracing and produced a cheeky grin. “Is there history I’m unaware of? Jonathan said you two hadn’t met.”
“Oh, we’ve met all right,” she snorted. In a louder voice, she announced, “Lucy, allow me to introduce you to Professor Benjamin Clark. He happens to teach family law at Northwest Washington University.”
“No, that’s not right. He’s a divorce attorney in Seattle,” Jonathan corrected then paused and turned a curious expression to his friend. “Is . . . is that true?”
Frankie thought she spotted a blush flash up Benjamin’s stubbled face, but it dissipated just as abruptly .
“Yes, it is. I left the practice a few years back and started lecturing full time.” He shifted on his feet and gestured to the scowling blonde at his left. “Francesca was one of my students this last quarter.”
Lucy and Jonathan’s jaws dropped.
“Shut up. You’re Professor Prick?” Lucy didn’t even try to contain her shock. Frankie elbowed her in the ribs.
“It appears I’m one and the same, and you must be Lucy.” Benjamin held out his hand and she took it with hesitation. After a moment, she tightened her grip and intensified her eye contact.
“You’d better behave this week, buster,” she warned then flashed a radiant smile.
Jonathan clapped Benjamin firmly on the back. “Now that I know who Frankie was bitching about, I can only assume she exaggerated a few things.”
“Hey!” Frankie complained. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
“My fealty is strictly reserved for my beautiful bride.” He stepped past Benjamin, wrapped his arms around Lucy’s waist and lifted her so they faced one another eye to eye. He abandoned all decorum and kissed her passionately as though no one else was around.
“That went better than I’d expected,” Benjamin murmured closer to Frankie’s ear than she’d liked. The cloying scent of warm cinnamon and autumn leaves surrounded her as his hot breath tickled her neck. She stepped away, adding some distance between herself and the aromatically delicious man.
“For you, perhaps. But the night’s still young.” She eyed him over her shoulder. “I’d watch your back.”
His endless blue eyes held hers and he arched a thick brow as though to say let the games begin .
“Let’s eat. Everyone, help yourselves and sit wherever you’d like,” Jonathan called out, disrupting the tingly staring contest and pulling Frankie back to the event. “After a bit, we’ll talk game plan.”
With a belly full of rich, garlicky goodness as well as a heaping scoop of dread, Frankie peered down at the paper in front of her. Jon and Lucy had created an itinerary for the next week, complete with everyone’s responsibilities and tasks. Nothing on the list was overly taxing (perhaps the snowshoeing would be physically so, but she lived for that kind of challenge), yet seeing her name partnered with the best man washed her in trepidation.
The plan was for Benjamin to keep his distance, but how was that possible when she was the maid of honor and he was her groom’s side equivalent?
“The schedule may seem a bit dense,” Lucy continued, “but it’s all meant to be fun.”
“Is everything mandatory?” Todd asked. It was well known that Lucy’s best friend and the couple’s officiant was not a nature fan. “Specifically, the snowshoeing?”
“Yes, Todd.” Lucy placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at her impeccably dressed friend. “If I have to clomp through hell frozen over, then so do you. I’ll need all the emotional support I can get.”
Frankie snorted into her mulled wine. The excursion must have been her brother’s idea because Lucy, who hated the snow, was a fair-weather adventurer all the way. Snowshoeing was a special activity that Jon and Frankie used to do with their dad and likely Jon had insisted on going as a way to honor the beloved man. Lucy would never say no to something so important and being the bride, she’d decided that the rest of them couldn’t either.
Frankie’s phone buzzed in her lap.
Sheriff Howards:
Hey, princess! What are you up to after Jonathan and Lucy’s dinner?
Oh, Clint. She didn’t have the energy to deal with one more bullet point on her itinerary. No matter how chiseled and sexy that bullet point may be.
“Princess, huh?”
Frankie clutched the phone to her chest and scowled at the raven-haired pain in her ass sitting directly to her left. How—or why—Benjamin ended up sitting beside her through dinner was a mystery.
“This is private. Shoo .”
“Why isn’t your boyfriend here making merry with the rest of your friends and family?” Benjamin whispered.
“Clint’s not my boyfriend, he’s just—” She clamped her mouth closed. Shut up, Frankie. You don’t owe him an explanation for anything.
“Oh.” Benjamin cleared his throat and sat up straight. A flicker of something skittered across his features before he set his expression to his recent default: mild amusement. “He’s just a ‘friend’ right? Someone to scratch an itch, perhaps?”
His quiet, suggestive drawl heated her insides. For the briefest of moments, she felt embarrassed. Then the anger took over.
“Who do you think you are?” Her voice was harsh yet low so as not to disrupt the . . . announcement? Meeting? Whatever the hell you’d call it. But the lava in her chest was gradually rising to the surface, and she struggled to manage her volume. “You agreed to give me some distance, and yet here you are,” she gestured, “glued to my side and reading my texts over my shoulder.”
“Uh, Francesca—” he tried to interject.
“ No ,” she continued, allowing the wrath to take hold. “My life, my family, my messages are not your business. So, butt the fuck out, Clark.”
“ Francesca Miller, ” a deeply maternal voice scolded. No matter how old she got, her mother’s “I mean business” voice always managed to stop her in her tracks.
The room went silent except for a few snickers and the gentle clinking of flatware. Frankie could feel her cheeks flush red. Everyone stared at her and Benjamin with curiosity.
“Should we separate those two?” Lucy asked Jonathan, who chuckled behind his hand.
“Nah, I like that there’s someone giving her grief in my place. It’s comforting.”
“Apologies,” Benjamin began. “The disruption is my fault. Please continue, Lucy.”
Frankie mouthed a silent sorry to her mother, who pursed her lips, though it almost looked like the older woman was stifling a giggle.
Great, yet another person enjoying my misery.
Lucy nodded and wrapped up her final thoughts. Frankie suddenly felt exhausted. What should have been a fun, enjoyable week was quickly turning out to be nearly as draining as her family law class. Ironically, she’d been stoked to leave Seattle and get some space from the dreaded Professor Clark, but what she got instead was more face time with him than she could tolerate. She needed another glass of spiced wine and the comfort of her cozy bed.
She flipped over her phone, angling it away from certain prying eyes, and responded to Clint.
Frankie:
I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted from the drive and have an early start tomorrow. I’d better conserve my energy for snowshoeing with the group.
How about tomorrow evening? Dinner?
Sheriff Howards:
Sure, sounds good.