The Agent Next Door (19 page)

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. For real this time."

"You've been saying that since we were in the
seventh grade."

Beth grabbed her champagne from the side
table. She twirled the crystal flute between her fingers as she
looked out the window at a magnificent view of the San Francisco
Bay.

Isobel was right. Of course she was. She’d
always been the one with her head screwed on straighter. And it
showed. Isobel had earned better grades in school. She'd landed a
better job. It wasn't even worth going into how superior her taste
in men was.

“You’re right,” Beth conceded. "At the very
least, I've got to break up with him."

"Before the wedding?" Isobel asked, turning
slightly so the seamstress could continue pinning the hem of her
gown. Her voice was thick with disbelief. Beth didn't blame her.
After all, how many times had they had this conversation?

"Why not? It's as good a time as any. Anyway,
what difference does it make? I'm going to be all alone on your
wedding day. I might as well be honest about why.”

"Well, I guess there's a first time for
everything. I’ll just wait right over here while you call your
mother and tell her the news.”

A half-panicked laugh slipped from Beth’s
lips. She turned her head away from the window, meeting Isobel's
gaze in the full-length mirror that had been set up in the spacious
sitting room.

"Yeah, maybe after is better,” Beth said.

"At the very least, it's more realistic.
Let's be honest, Beth, you’re not giving up on Charlie at the
moment you need him most," Isobel said.

Beth sighed and took another sip of her
champagne. Just a sip. She’d only had half a banana and a handful
of grapes for breakfast. It had been crackers and carrot sticks for
lunch. Come hell or low blood sugar, she was determined to fit into
her bridesmaid dress Sunday morning.

"You're right," Beth said. "As always."

Isobel smiled at her in the mirror. There was
no malice in her eyes. If anybody knew how Beth's mind worked, it
was her dearest friend.

"I think that just about does it," the
seamstress said.

"Thank you so much." Isobel turned around to
face Beth. "Well, what do you think?"

Tears welled up in Beth's eyes. She couldn't
help it. Sure, she'd already seen Isobel in the elegant ivory gown
at other fittings, and she'd cried at every one of those too. This
round of last minute alterations was no different.

"You look just beautiful," Beth choked
out.

Isobel's eyes turned glassy too. "Oh God, why
did I ask you to be my maid of honor? If this is how we are today,
how the hell are we going to be on Sunday? The second I see you
crying, I'm going to start."

"I won't cry at the ceremony. I promise."

"Yeah, right. I'll believe you've finally
killed off Charlie before I believe that.”

“It could happen,” Beth said with a
smile.

The moment was broken as Beth’s phone started
to skitter across the tabletop next to her. She reached out to grab
it, but stilled her hand the second that she saw the name on the
screen.

“Are you going to get that?” Isobel
asked.

“It’s my mother.” Beth waited for the call to
go to voicemail.

Isobel shook her head. “You know she’ll only
call right back.”

“Maybe she won’t this—“

The phone began to vibrate again.

“Time.” Beth let her head fall forward before
she looked up at Isobel. “Sorry.”

“Don’t bother apologizing to me. You’re the
one I feel sorry for.” Isobel turned toward the seamstress and
started going over the final alterations as Beth hit the accept
button.

“Hi, Mom,” Beth said.

“So you’re not taking calls from your mother
any longer?” the familiar, guilt-inducing voice said on the other
end of the line.

“No. Of course not. My phone was across the
room. I just couldn’t get to it in time.”

“So you say. I was just calling to tell you
that after a hellish plane trip, your father and I have finally
made it to the hotel. Where are you now, dear?”

“I’m in Isobel’s room. She’s having her final
fitting.”

“Oh, how wonderful. Tell me what room she’s
in, and I’ll come right up.”

Beth shot to her feet. “No.”

There was a pause on the other end. “What do
you mean, no?”

“Uh, I just mean that there’s a lot of, um,
stuff going on in here. It’s a little hectic.” Beth put her
champagne down. There was no way that she was going to let her
mother blow into Isobel’s room and ruin her friend’s lovely moment
with her own drama. “How about I meet you down in the lobby
instead? You can tell me all about your trip over a nice, relaxing
glass of wine?”

A long silence stretched on the other end of
the line. Beth held her breath.

“A glass of wine does sound nice,” her mother
conceded.

“Great. I’ll meet you down there in five
minutes.”

Beth hit the end button before her mother
could change her mind.

“I have to go,” Beth said.

“I heard,” Isobel said. “I’ll come down and
save you just as soon as I can.”

“Are you sure? You could hide out up here all
night if you want. There’s no reason for both of us to get pulled
into this pit of suffering.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Isobel said
with a shrug and a smile. “Besides, I told Jordan that I would meet
him down there for drinks before dinner with the family this
evening. And you’re family as far as I’m concerned.”

Tears started to well up again in Beth’s
eyes. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid I’d get you all wrinkly.”

“Love you too,” Isobel said.

Beth started for the door, but Isobel stopped
her. “Hey, you might need that,” she said pointing to Beth’s purse
next to her half-full champagne glass.

“Ah, thank you,” she said, and went back over
to get the purse. She paused for a second and looked down at her
champagne. What the hell? She could use a little bracer before
going down there. She emptied it in three quick gulps.

Beth rushed down the long, ivory-papered hall
to the elevator. She hit the down button twice and waited.

And waited.

The Kensington Hotel was the Bay Area’s
oldest and most elegant hotel—emphasis on the oldest. Usually, that
was a big part of its charm. But right now, waiting for the single
elevator in the place to creak its way up to the fifth floor, it
felt more maddening than charming.

Beth glanced toward the stairwell. It
probably wasn’t the best idea. She was feeling more than a little
light-headed from downing that champagne on an empty stomach, and
with her luck, the elevator doors would open the second she set
foot on the stairs.

She glanced down at her phone. Five minutes
had already passed since she’d hung up on her mother, which meant
that she’d be down there now, arms crossed and counting every extra
second that she was late.

Beth went for the stairs. She was only a
little wobbly on her heels as she tore down the first two
flights.

Her eyes were on her feet as she rounded the
curve on the third, and she smashed into a wall. At least that was
what it felt like. Her purse flew from her hands. The contents
spilled out all over the floor as she stumbled back a step. Two
strong hands wrapped around her arms, keeping her from tipping over
and landing on her ass.

Beth looked up into the most gorgeous pair of
ocean blue eyes she had ever seen. Her jaw dropped open as she
sucked in a breath. The man standing in front of her was perfect—or
damn near it.

He stood a little over six feet tall. All his
features—his cheeks and chin, his nose and brow—were strong without
being sharp. Even so, his lips were the only part of him that
looked any kind of soft. The barest hint of stubble outlined his
jaw, but it somehow fit with his finely tailored designer suit and
his tousled, dark, short-cropped hair.

“Are you okay?" he asked after a long moment
had passed.

Oh God. She’d been staring at him.

“Yeah, I’m…um….” Great. It wasn’t enough that
she’d been ogling the poor man; now she couldn’t even string a
sentence together. Beth snapped her gaze down to her feet and saw
everything she had been carrying strewn across the landing. That
brought her back to herself. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said, finally letting go
of her arms.

Beth bent and started picking up everything
that had flown from her purse—her wallet, a pack of gum, her
compact. She was surprised when he did the same.

“No, I’m really sorry. I was in a hurry and
wasn’t watching where I was going. My mind was someplace else. My
mother is waiting for me in the lobby, and she always makes me a
little crazy. Only this time I’m the one making myself crazy
because I’m not sure if I should tell her the truth about
something, or if I should just keep lying. Well, at least through
the weekend. And…”

Beth glanced up to see him on one knee,
holding her lipstick and a pack of tissues in his open hand. His
eyes were steady on her, but the expression in them was
guarded.

“And, now you think I’m crazy.” Beth grabbed
her things and stuffed them back in her purse. She ran a hand down
her skirt, smoothing it out, as she stood. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. Damn, even his
voice was sexy, all low and rumbly. “And, I understand.”

The mystery man started back up the stairs,
leaving her dumbfounded on the landing.

“You do?” she called after him.

He didn’t turn around. ”Everybody’s mom
drives them crazy.”

Beth took a few deep breaths before
continuing down the stairs. By the time she finally made it to the
lobby, she was well and truly late.

She found her mother sitting on one of the
antique Edwardian sofas. Her back was straight, and her arms were
crossed. Not a good sign. She arched her brows as Beth neared.

“Sorry I made you wait. I had a little
accident on the stairs,” Beth tried.

“Of course you did, dear. It’s always
something.”

Beth sighed as she plopped down next to her
mother. “Where’s Dad?”

“Your father decided to stay in the room. He
wanted to rest before dinner. The traffic from the airport was just
awful. I don’t know how you put up with it every day.”

“Well, it is five o’clock on Thursday.”

Her mother’s brows pulled together. “What
does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying that it isn’t always that
bad.”

“If you say so.”

Beth closed her eyes and bit into her lower
lip. It wouldn’t do any good to argue. Not if she wanted this
evening to get any better.

She blew out a long breath and pasted a wide
smile on her face. “Did you want to go to the bar and get that
glass of wine now?”

Her mother waved her hand. “There’s no need.
Someone already went to get it for me.”

“Someone went for you? Who?”

Her mother lifted her gaze to a spot across
the wide marble lobby. Beth turned her head to see who she was
looking at.

The groan that she’d been trying so hard to
hold back since sitting down slipped out.

“Oh no, Mother. Don’t tell me you asked
him
.”

“I didn’t ask him, darling. He offered.
Besides you should be thanking me. If you play your cards right
this weekend, you might just be able to get him to take you
back.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want him
back,” Beth said in a rushed whisper.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s handsome. He’s
successful. He’s—“

“A total sleaze bag.”

Her mother shot her a piercing look. “You
don’t seem to mind his brother marrying Isobel.”

Of course, she didn’t. Jordan Masterson was a
good man. He was honest and kind. Everything that his jerk of a
brother, Spencer, wasn’t.

There wasn’t time to explain any of that to
her mother before the man in question stepped in front of them
holding two glasses of wine. He handed one to her mother.

“Thank you, Spencer darling,” she said.
“Won’t you sit down with us for a while? Beth here was just saying
how happy she was to see you.”

“Is that right?” he asked, quirking a brow.
He shot Beth a greasy look that made her empty stomach churn. Too
bad there wasn’t anything in there to puke up all over his shiny
shoes.

“Hello, Spencer,” Beth said through gritted
teeth.

She knew this moment was coming. It was
unavoidable. She was the maid of honor. He was the best man. But
somehow she’d convinced herself that she’d be able to avoid her
jerk-off ex-boyfriend. At least until the rehearsal dinner.

He slowly looked her up and down. His smirk
said he wasn’t impressed. “You look…well.”

Beth's smile tightened. The guy with the
spiked blonde hair and popped collar thought he could judge her
appearance?

Still, the night wasn’t going to get any
better if she threw gasoline on the fire. Somebody had to take the
high road. It might as well be her.

“How’s your brother doing?” she asked.

“Great.”

“And your parents?”

“They’re fine.”

“That’s good.”

There. She knew her manners. She could be
polite. Hopefully, that would set the tone between them for the
rest of the weekend.

“I saw that you checked into your room alone,
Beth. No date for the wedding, eh?” he asked.

Or not.

“Unfortunately, my boyfriend will be out of
town on business this weekend.”

And there it was. How easily she caved. It
looked like she wouldn’t be killing Charlie off after all.

“Ah, yes. The elusive Charlie,” her mother
said. “I was hoping to meet him during this visit.”

“So was I. We’ve been hearing about this
boyfriend of yours for six months now,” Spencer said, a wicked
smile curling his lips. “Ever since you and I split.”

“Yeah, well, his job keeps him really
busy.”