The Substitute (18 page)

“Hello, Blair.”

She was silent for a half-second. “I called to apologize. I came on too strong last night.”

Megan couldn’t stifle her gasp.

“Yeah, I know,” Blair grumbled. “It’s as rare as finding a leprechaun under a double rainbow.”

“Actually, rarer.”

“Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I just love you too much to see someone else hurt you. I feel partially responsible for not cold-cocking your ex when I visited you in Seattle last February.”

Megan laughed. “I found out he was cheating on me after your visit. What grounds would you have had to justify that in February?”

“For breathing and taking oxygen away from worthier creatures. Like slugs. Or lice.”

Megan’s chest burned with gratitude and love. “Thanks, Blair. I love you too.”

“And in that spirit, I need you to grab that imposter’s wallet and make sure he was telling me the truth about his name. Get his driver’s license and read off his address.”

Megan knew she should get mad at Blair for continuing on in the same vein as last night, but her friend’s declaration of love softened her. She rolled her eyes instead.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Megan Vandemeer. We may be on the phone, but I can still see it.”

Megan laughed. “Do you want me to read off his height and weight while I’m at it?”

“Yeah, that will help me figure out if it’s a fake ID.”

“Blair, you’re not really going to check him out, are you?”

“You bet your ass I am. I thought I made that clear last night. I don’t trust this guy.”

“And what exactly do you think he’s up to?”

“I intend to find out.”

“Blair, let it go.”

“No. Now start reading.”

“I can’t. He went to work with my dad.”

“He
what?
”

“Calm down. What harm could he possibly do there?”

“Is your father working on anything big? Competing for any big jobs?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Blair. How should I know? I never talk to my father about business. Besides, it’s an engineering firm. You and I spent plenty of time there when we worked for him the summer between our freshman and sophomore years of high school. You know how boring that place is. If anything, Josh deserves a medal for going to work with him.” Then she considered it and glanced at his Thursday schedule. “On second thought, he’s smarter than I’ve given him credit for. He’s gotten out of talking to the photographer and the orchestra director—wait. What?
Orchestra?
” Megan started flipping through the pages, trying to figure out just how large the orchestra actually was and when it would be playing. There was no way this wedding only cost twenty-five grand. Panic flared up from her gut.

“Oh, my God. You actually like this guy,” Blair said. “I didn’t want to believe it last night, but I can see right through you.”

Megan sucked in her breath, then let it out slowly. “What? Of course I don’t. We were putting on an act.”

“That’s a lie! Your voice rose.” She paused, then softened her tone. “Look, Megs, no one helps a stranger with something this big for nothing. He’s got an agenda. Maybe he wants to get into your pants. You haven’t found out if he’s circumcised yet, have you?”

“No! You know I’m not like that.” Although she would have found out if it had been up to her—something Blair didn’t need to know. Megan flung herself backward onto the bed in frustration, reminding herself that her friend was trying to look out for her. Wouldn’t she be cautious if the roles were reversed? “Look, I’ve been skeptical about his motives too…but there’s just something about him, Blair. Besides, if he wanted to get in my pants, he’s had a couple of opportunities. He slept in my bed with me last night and never once made a move.”

“Maybe so, but I still don’t trust him.”

“Which you’ve made abundantly clear.”

“I’m going to dig up everything I can, address or no address.”

Megan’s back stiffened. “Let it go, Blair. I’m warning you, if you present me with a dossier on him as a wedding gift, I’m never going to speak to you again.”

“
Wedding gift?
I thought you were breaking up with him!”

“It was a joke. I forgot you lost your sense of humor when you became a divorce attorney.” She took a second to regroup. “Look, we’re breaking up at my mother’s family dinner this evening.” She rolled onto her side and pulled the itinerary out from under her back, then examined the schedule for Thursday night. “Although it looks like it’s for Dad’s side of the family.” Megan read the document again. “It so weird that she would plan a party for them. Knickers can’t stand them.”

“Who knows with her. And don’t try to change the subject. Let me do this, Megan. This is what I do. I’m
very
good at it.”

“Drop it. It won’t matter tomorrow anyway. Very soon I’ll be on a plane back to Seattle—disowned and disgraced. I’m sure it won’t make the slightest difference to my mother who’s at fault in the breakup.”

“Then why go through this farce?”

“Just like hell has multiple levels, so does disgrace.”

“Well, if Josh McMillan is screwing you over, he’s going to find himself on the lowest one.”

Megan couldn’t hold back a smile. “I love you too, Blair.”

Blair’s voice softened. “I’m just looking out for you, Megs.”

“And I love you for it. Now go use your animosity and derision against the lying, cheating bastards who are your bread and butter.” Megan hung up, staring at the phone’s blank screen for a moment. She missed the Blair she remembered from childhood. Blair was still the strongest, fiercest person Megan knew, but she’d acquired a hard edge that could wound even those closest to her.

Megan laid back down and held up her itinerary. Florist 9:00 a.m. Photographer 10:00, Orchestra director 11:00, Lunch at noon, Pick up wedding and bridesmaids’ dresses at 1:30. She was exhausted from just looking at the list. But the fact that her mother was dragging her along made it ten times worse. Did Libby and Blair know about the one-thirty appointment? Hopefully they’d agree to come. Gram definitely wasn’t enough moral support. Megan needed more people on her team.

She picked up her phone again and called Libby. “Hey, Libs. Did my mom tell you about picking up the bridesmaids’ dresses today?”

“Um…yeah. She mentioned it last week.”

“I don’t suppose you planned on showing up?”

“Seeing how you weren’t engaged when she called, no.”

“Do you think you can…” If either of her friends could take off work, it was usually Libby. As a professional photographer, her schedule was usually more flexible.

Libby groaned. “Lucky for you, I don’t have any appointments today. What time?”

“One-thirty. At Sherri’s Bridal.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I remember. I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best!”

“I know,” she laughed. “And you owe me.”

Megan stared up at the ceiling. “How come you aren’t asking me why I’m picking up my wedding dress when I’m not even getting married?”

“Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. See you at one-thirty, Megs.”

What was Libby suggesting? She’d only just met Josh; her friend couldn’t think she’d actually
marry
him. The dress was paid for, wedding or not. Hopefully, Megan would get married for real someday and she could use it. She loved the dress. Truth be told, wearing it was what she’d been looking forward to most about the wedding. The knowledge struck her again, sticking to her skin like crazy glue—the whole wedding was already bought and paid for…no take backs. Her parents were out a ton of money. The guilt of lying hung over her, sucking her energy away. Or was it the thought of spending the day with her mother?

As if on cue, her mother called up the stairs, “Megan!”

Megan rolled onto her stomach, releasing a long, low groan into her comforter. Only an act of God would get her through this day without strangling her mother.

Megan was tired, cranky and starving. Which was more than pathetic since she’d just left a restaurant after having lunch. Megan’s mother had ordered for her while she was in the restroom. And even though Megan had asked her to order a cheeseburger, she wasn’t all that surprised when the waitress served her a garden salad with fat-free dressing on the side.

Megan’s mouth dropped open and she sought her mother’s attention, which wasn’t hard since Nicole was watching her like a hawk. “What happened to my cheeseburger?”

“You’re not a teenager anymore, Megan,” her mother said, picking up her fork. “You’ve gotten…hippy.”

Gram had been quiet for most of the morning, but her interest perked up. “Megan’s a hippie?” She looked into Megan’s eyes. “Do you smoke the weed?”

Megan couldn’t stop her chuckle. “No Gram, I don’t smoke
the
weed. And contrary to what Mom thinks, I don’t hug trees even if I do try to save them in the Amazon.” She lifted her eyebrows and dared her mother to press the issue.

Surprisingly, her mother ignored the taunt and picked at her own salad. When the waitress came to take away their empty plates, Megan ordered a slice of cheesecake, but her mother insisted they were running behind schedule and there wouldn’t be time for her to eat it. In a burst of defiance, Megan ordered it to go and told the waitress to put it on a separate bill so her mother couldn’t use the cost against her later.

Now here Megan sat, in the back seat of her mother’s Lincoln, eating her cheesecake with a plastic fork, offering bites to her grandmother who was in the front passenger seat.

“Don’t get any crumbs on that seat, Megan Nicole,” her mother said in a tight voice. “I just had the car detailed two days ago.”

“I’m not five years old, Mom,” Megan said as she took a bite, a tiny piece falling off her fork and onto the seat. Megan glanced up at the rearview mirror to see if her mother had noticed, while brushing away the crumb. Rather than helping, her maneuver smeared the creamy filling across the leather.

Oh, crap.

She dug a tissue out of her purse, trying not to giggle.

She was in brighter spirits when her mother pulled up to the bridal shop. Libby was standing on the sidewalk waiting for them.

Megan gave her a tight hug. “I love you, Libs!”

“You owe me drinks later for putting up with Knickers twice within less than twenty-four hours,” she whispered in Megan’s ear.

“Deal.”

They went into shop, Gram’s outfit drawing looks from other shoppers at the strip mall as she shuffled to the door She wore a red sequined vest over a black t-shirt with the words “Momma’s Home Boys” printed in a sparkly red. Her black capris and red flats completed the outfit. When one middle-aged man’s jaw dropped, Gram winked and said, “Give me your number and I’ll set up a naked yoga session with you.”

Megan’s mother hustled her into the bridal shop and immediately took charge, going up to the counter and announcing they had arrived for their one-thirty fitting. The clerk took them to a viewing area and told them to have a seat.

After Megan’s mother got Gram situated in an overstuffed chair, she glanced at Megan and Libby, then at the door. “Where’s Blair?”

Megan suppressed a sigh. “She couldn’t get off work.” She’d known better than to ask.

“What?” her mother screeched.

“She has a very important job, Mother. She’s a big-deal attorney.”

Her mother scowled. “This takes precedence.”

“I’m sure the woman whose cheating husband tried to steal her house out from under her thinks differently.”

Libby sat up straighter. “I’m going to see Blair tonight, so I told her I’d pick up her dress, Mrs. Vandemeer.”

“What if it needs additional alterations?”

Libby waved her hand as though it were a non-issue. “She’ll be fine.”

To Megan, it was obvious Libby’s bright smile was forced, but her mother didn’t seem to notice. “Well, let’s hope so. I’d hate to see Megan’s wedding ruined over an ill-fitting bridesmaid dress.”

Libby started to giggle, but Megan stomped on her foot to shut her up. Of course, she knew what Libby was thinking. The dress was the least of Knickers’ concerns at this point.

The employee emerged from the back, her face beaming. “Your dresses are in the dressing rooms. If you’ll follow me…”

Libby went into a room by herself while the employee followed Megan into the larger dressing room.

“Did you bring the proper undergarments?”

Megan opened her purse and pulled out the bag with the strapless bra. Her mother had given it to her before they got to the store, presuming she’d forget one. It annoyed Megan that Knickers was right, even though there was a reason for it—Megan had packed thinking she wouldn’t need one.

Once she had her bra on, the employee handed her a crinoline slip and Megan hooked the side, staring in the mirror in confusion. “I didn’t think my slip was this full.”

“This was the one purchased.”

Megan let it go. She had bought the dress eight months ago, maybe she’d forgotten.

The woman unzipped a bag and told Megan to lift her arms so she could put the dress over her head. “But face the wall first. I want you to turn and look in the mirror, so you can get the full effect.”

Megan did as she was told, surprised that the dress felt much heavier than she remembered. When she turned to face the mirror, she realized why.

“This isn’t my dress.”

The employee’s eyes widened in fear. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vandemeer. I’m afraid it is.”

What did that mean? “No. It most certainly is not.” Megan’s voice was firm as she took in the ballgown-style dress covered in silk fabric roses and a half a million crystals. It looked like fairies had puked all over it.

“Let me try to get this zipped up and I’ll check on it.” The woman sounded panicked as she fought the zipper. “If you could take a deep breath.”

Megan took a deep breath as the woman continued to struggle behind her. “I look just like Cinderella gone wrong.” Then it hit her. Surely, her mother didn’t… “What size is this dress?”

“A six.”

Megan picked up the skirt in her hands, ready for war. “Open the door.”