The Wedding Wish (Summer Grooms Series) (7 page)

Isabel carried her glass of Chablis in their direction,
feeling every bit the sophisticate that she’d aspired to be. Imagine! Her own
opening! And at a well-known gallery besides. Just because it held a university
affiliation didn’t make it any less important. Competition in the arts was keen
these days, and Isabel knew it. She was just so very grateful to have been
given this opportunity to make some meager inroads.

“Mom, Dad,” she said, crossing to them with an open-armed
hug. “Thanks so much for coming.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” her dad said.

Her mom smiled fondly. “We’re so proud of you, Isabel.”

Kip nodded. “Yes. We are.”

“Come on and let me get you both a glass of wine. Then I’ll
show you around.”

Kip laid another small sandwich on his plate and surreptitiously
surveyed the art before him. There sure seemed to be a lot of nudies here. Then
again, that had been passing for art since the old days. He chomped on the tiny
triangle and wrinkled his nose. Why did this taste like he’d just sampled a
salad with ranch dressing?

Trudy, who walked ahead, her armed linked in Isabel’s,
smiled over her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Kip. Going for the whole-wheat
veggie sandwiches. Very sound.”

Kip stared down at the offending crudité in horror. No
wonder it was so terrible. It was good for him! He quickly scanned the room,
then slid his sandwich remains onto a passing tray, which carted off dirty
dishes. Isabel shared a laugh with her mom, then glanced back at him.

“Finished already? That’s great, Dad. Why don’t you go and
get some more?”

Yeah, maybe he’d do that. He’d spied some meatballs in the
buffet that looked a lot more his speed.

“And load up on the meatballs!” Isabel chirped as if reading
his mind. “They’re vegan!”

Kip stopped halfway to the buffet table and grunted. He knew
they should have stopped to eat before coming here, but Trudy had protested
there’d be plenty of food. Like any of this healthy stuff counted. The line
ahead of him moved along, and Kip spotted something intriguing. To his delight,
it was a vat of miniature hotdogs drenched in what smelled like a delicious
bourbon sauce. “Those aren’t tofu?” he asked the caterer, who was resetting the
tea lights beneath the various pans.

“One hundred percent all beef.”

Kip sighed with relief and piled his plate high, thinking if
this was what it took to get through the night without his stomach grumbling,
he’d do it. Isabel still had to give her speech introducing the guest artists,
and he supposed that afterwards, he and Trudy would be expected to mingle some
more. He poked a wiener with a toothpick, then popped it in his mouth.
Mmmm, succulent.
A split-second later he
nearly spit it back out, unable to believe what he was seeing. It was Robert!
In the all-together. Just as naked as the day he was born, the colorful canvass
centered right behind the hot dogs, of all things.
Miniature hot dogs,
Kip reminded himself. He carted his plate
toward the canvas to get a closer look, realizing that Robert’s attributes more
than measured up. Kip set down his plate on a nearby cart, suddenly losing his
appetite.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” A woman wearing a name tag that read
Elizabeth
asked him. “I believe that’s
Isabel’s most promising work.”

“Isabel?” Kip felt the blood drain from his face.

“She’s our featured artist tonight,” the woman explained, “and
this exhibit’s curator.” She studied him a moment, her face lighting up. “Say,
aren’t you Mr. Miller?”

“Your father’s taking an awfully long time getting his food,”
Trudy told Isabel. “I’ll go see what’s keeping him.” Just then a couple of arts
patrons approached, wanting to offer their congratulations to Isabel. After a
brief introduction, Trudy excused herself and made for the bar, where Kip stood
pouring two glasses of wine.

“That’s sweet of you, dear,” Trudy said, assuming one of
them was for her. “But I haven’t even finished my first yet.”

Without saying a word, Kip downed one, then set it on the
table. “These are both for me.”

“But what…?”

He motioned with the second glass still in his hand, and
Trudy’s gaze traveled across the room. “Oh my!” she said, her gaze falling on
the picture. She stepped a little closer as Kip trailed her. “Is that Robert?”

“In the flesh,” Kip answered dryly.

Trudy nursed her wine and considered the portrait. “Well,
well. He certainly
has
grown up.”

“Trudy!” Kip scolded. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying. He’s no longer Mr. Little Bitty
from next door. He’s got the whole Oscar Mayer thing going on.”

“Kip!”

“I see you two found my painting,” Isabel said, approaching.

Trudy shot Kip a warning look, telling him to hold his
tongue.

“Yes, dear,” Trudy said sweetly. “You did…mighty good work.”

Isabel sighed at the portrait. “It helped that I had a
mighty good model.”

Kip’s temples pulsed so hard he feared his whole face might
explode. “I just have one question.” Trudy stealthily pinched him, but he
continued anyway. “Did he pose for the whole class, or was it a private
sitting?”

Two and a half hours later, Trudy and Kip exited the Smith
Center. He plucked a hanky from his pocket to wipe his brow, not knowing how he’d
lived through it. His only daughter was not only involved with some leech with
a treacherous secret, she’d been painting nudie pictures of him too! Kip didn’t
know how, but things seemed to have gone from bad to worse. In fact, he didn’t
see how they could get any more abysmal. That was what he thought until he saw
Robert stepping to the curb from a cab.

Trudy tugged on his elbow, apparently having seen Robert as
well. “I want you to remember yourself,” she said. “And think of your daughter.
This is her night, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin it.”

They descended the granite stairs and met Robert halfway as
he ascended. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” he said with surprise.

“It’s nice to see you, Robert,” Trudy said. “We didn’t think
you could make it.”

“Almost didn’t,” he said, a bit winded. “Got a last-minute
flight back and had to hightail it here from the airport.”

“Where were you again?” Kip asked, purposely oblivious.

Robert’s gaze darted to the museum entrance, then settled on
his again. “New York.”

“We knew that, Kip,” Trudy said mildly. “Let’s move along.”

But Kip stayed planted in place like a pillar. “And what,
pray tell, were you doing in New York?
Seeing
someone?
” Trudy tugged at his arm as Robert blinked hard.

“Sir, I can explain—”

“So you weren’t seeing Susan?”

“I’m sure she’s just a friend,” Trudy inserted.

“No, ma’am, an attorney.”

“Attorney?” Kip parroted. “What’s this? My artist daughter
isn’t good enough for you?”

“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. Isabel is plenty good enough.
Way too good for me, in fact.”

Kip glared at him. “You’ve got that part right.”

Robert steeled his nerves and barreled ahead. “The truth is I
went there because I had to. I had something important to take care of. Get out
of, I mean.”

Trudy’s face creased with worry. “A previous engagement?”

“No, ma’am.” He glanced at Kip and flinched as if
anticipating a blow. “My marriage.”

That was the last word he heard before Kip’s top blew off.
The next thing Robert knew, Kip had tackled him to the steps and had corralled
him by the collar.

“Kip! What are you doing?” Trudy yelped.

“What I should have done ages ago!” Kip hollered. He tugged
Robert up toward him by his lapels. “You mean to tell me that all this time—the
whole time you’ve been seeing Isabel—you were
married
to somebody else?”

“Technically, yes, but—”

“Were you or weren’t you, Robert?” Trudy asked in shock.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller,” he said, his face beet red. “I
apologize for lying to both of you. But it’s really not like you—
Ow!
”

Kip yanked him forward to spew out the words, “
You had the nerve to come into my house…? To
deceive not just Isabel, but all of us?
” He glanced at Trudy, who appeared
faint. “We have to tell Isabel.”

“I’m going to tell her,” Robert squawked. “I was on my way
just now!”

“Kip,” Trudy said. “He’s right. This is for the two of them
to work out.”

Kip would prefer to work things out right here and now. Mano
a mano with Robert, that little pipsqueak. But he knew that his wife wouldn’t
forgive him. Isabel, God love her, might even get angry with him too. Though if
she asked her dad to settle things up with Robert later, he’d be more than
happy to do it. He felt Trudy’s hand on his shoulder and released his grip,
leaving a stunned Robert to fall back on his elbows. “
You!
” he said with a parting growl. “
Stay away from my daughter!
”

As they left, Trudy glanced sadly over her shoulder. “You
really disappointed us, Robert. And I was one of the ones pulling for you.”

Chapter Eight

Robert stood on wobbly knees and dusted off his dress
slacks. He watched Kip and Trudy walk away, shaking their heads as they made for
their car. Of all the scenarios Robert had envisioned occurring this evening,
Kip’s assault hadn’t been among them. Though Robert knew he couldn’t entirely
blame Kip for reacting the way he did. Robert understood the information had
come as a shock. He worried it would come as one to Isabel as well. He only
hoped she’d give him more time than her dad had for him to explain the entire
truth.

Robert straightened his tie and pulled back the heavy door,
finding the museum’s entry foyer nearly empty. Only a few scattered guests
remained, chatting casually amidst the catering staff that was busily cleaning
up. It took him a few moments to find Isabel in a back chamber, gathering up
some extra programs. She heard his approach and looked up. “Robert!” she said,
her cheeks flushed. She was stunning in a short black dress and heels, her
blonde curls twisted up in a knot behind her. She set down her pile of papers
and hurried to him. “I didn’t think you could make it.”

He sadly surveyed the empty room, then took her in his arms.
“Looks like I missed it.”

“Most of it, yeah.” She gave him a tilted smile, and his
heart stilled. How he wished there was a way to make things easy, but any way he
could think of was hard.

She ran her hand down his lapel, noting the tear at his
collar. “What happened to your shirt?”

“Let’s just say I had a little run-in with Kip on my way
here.”

“With my dad?” she asked with surprise. “I don’t understand.”

He looked down into trusting blue eyes, hating to shatter
her illusions. But the only way to move forward at this point was with full
disclosure, and Robert knew it. “I told him, Isabel. Told him why I went to New
York.”

Her delicate brow wrinkled in concern. “And now you’re going
to tell me?”

“All I ask is that you hear me out. Let me say my whole
piece.”

“Robert,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’re scaring me.”

He drew a deep breath, then released it, gathering his
courage. He locked on her gaze and willed the words from his throat, but they
wouldn’t come.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“When I told you before there was no one else, that wasn’t
exactly right.”

“What?”

“Isabel, I’m married.”

She pushed back in his arms and broke their embrace. “
Married?
” she shrieked, looking as if
she’d been slapped across the face.

“But it’s not like you think!”

She shook her head in disbelief and then stammered, “You
mean, all this time… When you and I have been together?” She brought her hand
to her mouth as if she might retch.

“Isabel.” Robert stepped forward, but she inched back.

“Stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand. I’ve been trying to get it undone.”

“Sure you have,” she said, clearly not believing him. “That’s
what they all say, isn’t it?”

“They?”

“Men, Robert! Like you!” She shot him an accusing glare. “And
all this time I blamed my dad, said he was overreacting…” She stood up
straighter and squared her shoulders. “But he was right, wasn’t he? You weren’t
to be trusted. All this time, you’ve been married to somebody else.”

“Yes, but—”

“Were you or weren’t you?”

Robert hung his head. “I was.”

“Does she know about me?”

“No.”

“Perfect. That’s perfect.”

“My marriage was over a long time ago.”

She set a hand on her hip and asked combatively, “What do
you think, Robert? That I don’t go to the movies? If that isn’t the oldest line
in the book, then I don’t know—”

“She left me, Isabel,” he said, his voice cracking. Fire
welled in his eyes, and his jaw trembled. “Ran out on me, don’t you know.”

She gasped and blinked at him. “What?”

“Seven years ago, to be exact. We were barely even married.
We got married right out of college, and it scarcely lasted six months. Six
months was all we had before she put me through seven years of hell.”

Isabel brought her hands to her head, a million emotions
swirling inside her. “I’m not getting any of this,” she whimpered as tears sprang
from her eyes. “Except for the part about you being married.”

“But not for long. At the stroke of midnight, it’s over.” He
held her gaze, dark eyes sincere. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. My
meeting in New York was with my attorney, Susan. She’s the one who called that
night when we were out to dinner.”

Isabel lifted a hand to wipe back her tears. “I’m listening.”