Nobody But You B&N (3 page)

"Looks like we're next," Max said, returning to his side.

"Yeah," he said distractedly, his gaze still on Hallie.

"What is it with you and redheads, Spence?"

He smiled. "I like the fire. She's beautiful, don’t you think?"

"Did you get her number?"

"Not yet, but I haven't given up."

"Good for you. It's about time you got back in the game."

He didn't know about getting back in the game, but he did know that he felt a compelling need to not let this woman walk out of his life without another word.

As he waited for Hallie to finish her business, he glanced around the bank, noting the holiday garlands, poinsettias and the Christmas tree in the corner. Christmas was less than two weeks away, and there was a festive atmosphere in the air, which probably had as much to do with closing being minutes away as with the upcoming holidays. There was only one other customer at the main bank of teller windows, and two female loan officers were chatting by one of their desks.

He was about to look away when the front door opened, and two men walked in. They were probably in their twenties or thirties. Both wore jeans. One had a gray sweatshirt with a hoodie pulled over his head and sunglasses covering his eyes. The other had on a black jacket and a Yankee baseball cap, his eyes also hidden by dark lenses. These two did not want to be recognized. Why? He suddenly had a bad feeling.

One man lingered by the door as the other got in line, waiting for the last customer to finish at the main counter. As the older woman left the teller window and headed out of the bank, the guy in line seemed to exchange some sort of signal with the man by the door. Then he stepped up to the waiting bank teller, a young Asian woman.

Spencer frowned, looking around for a security guard, but there was no one in sight. "Shit!" he muttered.

Max gave him a surprised look. "What's wrong?"

"We've got trouble."

Spencer had barely finished speaking when the man by the door turned the dead bolt and pulled out a gun. "Don't move. Don't anybody move," he yelled.

As the limo passed by the front of the church, Emma could see her grandparents and parents standing on the steps, welcoming their guests. She hadn't wanted a huge wedding, but being part of the Callaway family had made anything small impossible. She was not only one of eight siblings; she had over twenty cousins, and a dozen aunts and uncles. Along with family, came the fire department, which was her second family, and quite a few members of the police department, who were Max's second family. So they'd given up on trying to cut down the guest list and decided to have a big crowd and a night to remember.

"Is Max ready to deal with all the Callaways?" Nicole asked.

"He's getting used to the constant crowd," she replied. "His mother is a little overwhelmed though. She seemed very nervous at the rehearsal dinner last night."

"She's been nervous every time I've seen her," Nicole commented.

Emma nodded. "Susan is high strung and emotional. She drives Max crazy with her drama. He's been taking care of her ever since his dad took off. And I guess she was even worse while Spencer was in prison. She's a sweet woman though. She just gets overwhelmed with what are usually little problems."

"What's the deal with Max's father? Is he coming today?"

"Max didn't invite him. He said his dad hasn't been part of his life, so why should he be part of his wedding? I can understand that feeling. I should have stuck with not inviting our father," she added, unable to keep the bitter note out of her voice. She'd spent weeks debating whether or not to invite her biological father to the wedding. He'd deserted her and Nicole and their mother, Lynda, when Emma was a toddler, and while there had been some sporadic contact over the years, she didn't think of him as a father. Jack Callaway was her dad. He was the one who'd been there through all the important moments of her life.

"I'm sorry," Nicole said quietly, meeting her gaze. "I know you invited him at my urging. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to reconnect."

"He wasn't interested in reconnecting. He's never been interested in me at all."

"That's not true."

"It is, Nicole. You share his love of history and teaching, but he doesn't understand me, and I don't understand him. It's fine. I just wish I hadn't given him another chance to reject me. I shouldn't have wasted all that time worrying about whether or not to invite him. He was never going to come."

"Don't let his absence spoil the day."

"It won't. I'm actually glad he's not here. Jack is the only father I need." She paused. "It's weird that Max and I both have a history of deadbeat dads, isn't it? Although, you and I got lucky when Mom married Jack. He's always treated us like his daughters."

"I wonder why Max's mom didn't remarry."

"I don't think she ever got over Max's dad leaving her."

The limo came to a stop.

"Showtime," Shayla said. "Are you ready, Emma?"

"More than ready," she replied. The chauffeur helped her out of the car, and she moved quickly into the hallway where her wedding planner and cousin, Cynthia Callaway, waiting for them. Cynthia was a tall, willowy brunette who moved and talked at a very fast pace. She was extremely efficient and very organized. She'd taken care of every detail of the wedding and reception, and Emma didn't know what she would have done without her.

Cynthia waved them into a small room. "You can wait here until we're ready."

"Is everyone here?" Emma asked.

"The pews are filling up," Cynthia answered. "But we still have fifteen minutes."

"Any sign of Sean?"

Cynthia shook her head. "Not yet. I texted him a few minutes ago, but I got no reply. Thank goodness he's not one of the ushers. We won't have to hold up the wedding for him."

"I know he's not in the bridal party, but I still want him to see me get married."

"Then he better get here in the next fifteen minutes," Cynthia said. "There's another ceremony after yours, Emma, so we can't wait forever, but I promise we'll wait as long as we can. I'll go check again."

"Thanks." Emma had barely entered the dressing room when her bridesmaids began to disappear: Nicole to check on the ring-bearers—her son Brandon and Brandon's brother, Kyle, Sara to make sure her one-month-old baby girl didn't need a feeding, and Ria, who wanted to make sure that her niece, Megan was all set to be the flower girl and accompany the ring bearers down the aisle, which left Shayla.

"I think you should touch up your lips," Shayla said.

"Why? Max is only going to kiss it off."

Shayla laughed. "Not until the end of the ceremony. Think of all the photos before that moment."

"Fine. I'll add some more lipstick. But that's it. I want Max to recognize me after all."

"Shoot, I left my makeup bag in the limo. I'll get it."

As Shayla left, Emma's grandmother, Eleanor Callaway walked into the room. Eleanor was an attractive older woman with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes that were sometimes sharp and sometimes lost, as she battled Alzheimer's.

"Grandma," Emma said, giving her a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me, too." Eleanor waved her hand toward her husband, Patrick, who was hovering in the doorway. "Leave us be. I want to talk to Emma for a few minutes."

"I'll be right outside," Patrick replied. "Don't be long."

"I won't be." Eleanor took Emma's hands and gave her a smile. "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you. So do you." Emma was happy to see a sharp gleam in her grandmother's eyes. "How are you feeling today?"

"Like my old self."

"I'm glad."

"I don't know how long it will last, so I want to give you this before I forget what it is or who you are," she said with a touch of painful humor. Eleanor opened her gold clutch purse and pulled out a dark blue velvet box. "My grandmother gave me this when I married your grandfather, and I thought you might want to wear it—it could be your
something old
."

Emma took the jewelry box out of her grandmother's hand and opened the lid. A beautiful gold heart with a sapphire diamond in the middle hung on a thin gold chain and sparkled in its velvet setting. "Oh, Grandma," she breathed, as she took out the necklace. "It's gorgeous."

"My grandmother told me it would bring me luck in my marriage as it brought her luck. She was married for forty-three years before she passed away. And your grandpa and I are going on sixty-two years together."

"I have a feeling it took more than a little luck for you to stay together that long," Emma murmured.

"Oh, it took work, for sure," Eleanor said with a nod. "Your grandpa isn't the easiest man to live with."

"You don't have to tell me that." She adored her grandfather, but she was not unaware of the fact that he could be angry and arrogant on occasion.

She handed her grandmother the jewelry box and put the necklace on. It was perfect for her sweetheart neckline. She had debated on what to wear around her neck for a long time, but she hadn't had the right necklace until now. "How does it look?"

Eleanor gave an approving smile. "Like it was made for you." She glanced around the empty room. "Where is everyone?"

Emma shrugged. "Who knows? But I'm happy to have a moment alone with you. Thank you so much for this, Grandma."

"You're welcome. I gave Nicole a ring from my mother when she got married, and I have something special for Shayla when it's her day." She paused. "I have to say Emma that you remind me the most of myself. I know we're not related by blood, but I feel so close to you. I always have, from the first minute your father brought Lynda to the house and introduced me to you."

"I don't remember that."

"You were just a toddler, but you were so curious and stubborn that I knew Jack would have his hands full with you. Now it's Max's turn."

She smiled. "Yes, it is. But Max has a stubborn streak, too. So I may have my hands full with him."

"He's a good man, a strong man, someone you can count on, lean on; I like him very much."

"So do I."

"Do you want to know the secret to love and a long marriage, Emma?"

"Boy, do I," she said with a laugh.

"Don't keep score. Being right won't keep you warm at night."

"That's good advice."

"And be kind to each other," Eleanor added, her expression growing more serious. "We're all flawed, Emma. Even the best of men can sometimes make a terrible mistake."

Emma's gut tightened. "Is there something you want to tell me, Grandma?" Eleanor had been alluding to some secret in her past for the last several months, but she never stayed sharp enough to get the whole story out.

"No, dear," Eleanor said quickly.

"Are you sure? I feel like you've wanted to tell us something about Grandpa, maybe about something bad that happened in the past. You keep talking about a secret that you don’t want to keep anymore."

Eleanor stared back at her, a glint in her eyes. "What else have I said about this secret?"

"Nothing specific, but whatever it is, it seems to bother you. You get agitated and upset."

"I wish I knew what you're talking about, Emma, but this condition I have—it's like I have blackouts. I'm there, and then I'm gone for a while. When I come back, sometimes it's been five minutes, and sometimes it's been five weeks."

"I'm sorry," Emma said quickly, seeing the frustration in Eleanor's eyes now. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"It's all right. I just hope whatever I say doesn't hurt the people I love, especially your grandfather. He's always stood by me."

"And you've stood by him."

"That's what a wife does, Emma."

"Even if a husband does something wrong?" she asked, knowing she should drop it, but how many times would she have a chance to speak this honestly with her grandmother?

"Emma, you should let it go."

"I know I should, but remember what you said about me being curious and stubborn?"

Eleanor sighed. "Everything your grandfather has done in his life has been done out of love for his family and his friends. This isn't the time to talk about the past, Emma. Tonight you begin a new life, a life with Max, and you don't need to be thinking about anything else."

"I just want to help you. I feel like you want to tell the family something, and every time you start to do that, Grandpa shuts you up. If something is troubling you, you can tell me."

"Thank you, Emma. But nothing is bothering me, at least nothing I can remember at the moment," she added with a small smile.

Before Eleanor could say more, Cynthia and Nicole returned to the dressing room. They both looked a little too serious, and Emma's pulse quickened. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm sure he's just running late," Cynthia said.

Emma saw Cynthia and Nicole exchange a quick look. "Sean still isn't here yet?"

"It's not Sean we're worried about. Well, not
just
Sean," Cynthia amended. "Max isn't here yet, either. Or his brother."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean Max isn't here yet? I talked to him a little over an hour ago. He said that he and Spencer were going to leave in a few minutes."

"There's no sign of either of them," Nicole replied.

"Did anyone call Max?" she asked.

Cynthia shook her head.

"Well, give me a phone."

Cynthia handed over her phone, and Emma punched in Max's number. The phone rang six times before voice mail came on. The bad feeling she'd been fighting all day came back with a vengeance. "He's not answering."

"He's probably in the car, driving over here," Nicole put in, forced optimism in her voice. "He'll be here any second."

"Right," she said, trying to rein in her fearful thoughts. Max wouldn't be late to his wedding. Where was he? And why wasn’t he answering his phone?

Hallie Cooper's heart pounded against her chest as she dropped to her knees in front of the counter, hands in the air, as instructed by the two men in the process of robbing the bank. Her pulse was going way too fast, and terror had tightened her chest. She struggled to breathe, to stay on her knees, to think through the fear, to focus on the current minute and not the one about to come. But even as her therapist's words rang through her head, her brain screamed in shock that this wasn't supposed to be happening. She wasn't supposed to be facing another gun or more evil. She was supposed to be safe now, the bad stuff behind her.