Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (34 page)

She fingered the engagement ring, thinking of the wedding bands they’d chosen. Make that the bands
Peter
had chosen. She’d explained her feelings, but Peter had held firm. Despite her protests and explanations that stopped short of outright pleading, he’d been adamant. Had she broken down and cried, Peter would have succumbed in an instant, but she refused to resort to feminine manipulation to get her way. Obviously Peter’s reasons meant more to him than she’d realized. For the sake of peace and Peter’s happiness, she’d compromised. Again.

The one thing about this wedding that hadn’t been a compromise lay in that bag.

“Go ahead and take a peek.”

Carly whirled around to face Mike. “You startled me.” She placed a hand over her chest in a futile effort to calm her rapidly beating heart. “What are you doing here?”

“We had a date.” Mike lifted one eyebrow, as if daring her to dispute his statement.

“I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“I try to honor my commitments,” he said with complete sincerity.

She chose to ignore that comment. “How’d you find me?”

He leaned against the wall and grinned. His smile had the ability to stop her heart each and every time. She ground her teeth hard. “Well?”

“One phone call and a very efficient secretary. Did you ever think of giving her a raise?”

“Don’t look so smug.”

“And don’t you look so unhappy. You know you’re glad to see me.”

She couldn’t hide her smile. “Your ego astounds me.”

“Can I have a look?” he asked, walking over to the garment bag. He reached for the zipper.

She smacked his hand. “Let me.” With Mike staring from behind, she felt shy about looking at the dress she’d be wearing to wed another man. She bit her lower lip and gingerly unzipped the bag.

Reaching inside, she withdrew the material, gaping at the gown in shock. “It’s pink.”

Mike stepped back to appraise the dress and let out a long, approving whistle. “Nice,” he murmured his gaze taking in the scooped neckline and intricate beading.

“It’s pink.” Her hand gripped his arm and her fingernails dug into his skin.

“I admit it’s a surprise.” And not just for him, Mike thought, judging by the horrified look on Carly’s face. “You ordered white.” Not a difficult guess.

After his brother’s slip a few days before, Mike realized Carly was truly innocent. Not that most brides didn’t wear white regardless, but Carly had maintained the right. Forget what Peter’s reaction would be to his bride walking down the aisle in anything but traditional white, she deserved to have her first choice. After all her compromising, she shouldn’t have to give in on something as important as her wedding gown.

He turned toward her, startled to see tears running down her face. “Hey,” he said, brushing at the drop of moisture with his thumb. “I’m sure this can be fixed.” He hoped.

“It’s an omen.”

“Come on, you don’t believe in that stuff.” He, on the other hand, agreed wholeheartedly.

“I planned this wedding and nothing has gone as I wanted... No one has given a single thought to my feelings, but this...” She lifted the lace edge of the gown. “This was mine.” She groaned. “Or it was supposed to be.”

“Carly,” he began carefully, “think about what you just said.”

“So much for the perfect wedding.”

She wasn’t listening. He grabbed her by both arms, as if he were grabbing his last chance to reach her. “The
perfect
wedding won’t change the fact that both people involved are far from the
perfect
couple. All the planning in the world won’t change that.”

The look of pain on her face almost destroyed him.

“How dare you?”

He swore silently. “I dare because you don’t. Listen to yourself. Nothing about this wedding has turned out the way you wanted it. No one, including my brother, who I love but who can also be an ass, has given a damn about your needs.”

She tried to jerk her arms free, but he held on fast. “What does that tell you?” he asked.

“That this is none of your business.” She wrenched free from his grasp.

“You’re right, but I can’t sit around and watch this farce any longer. If I don’t point out what you can’t face, what kind of friend am I?” He shoved his fingers through his hair.
What kind of brother am I?

She cocked her head to one side. Though her eyes remained wet and her pain was almost tangible, he sensed she was listening. At last.

“Look, sweetheart, you’re two different people with two different personalities. It doesn’t make either of you wrong or a bad person. That’s just the way it is and it’s time you faced the truth.”

“What gives you the right to pass judgment?” she asked.

“Not a damn thing. But I love my brother and I... care about you. Marriage is forever. Promise me you’ll think about that.”

“And do what? Break off my engagement a week before the wedding?” Her voice cracked under the strain.

“If that’s what feels right, then yes.”

“I made a
commitment
.” She paced the small area before turning on him. “Do you even know what the word means?”

“Carly...” he said, warning her with his tone. “Don’t make this personal.”

“And what is it but personal? How can someone like you give me advice? What do you know about the long haul? About sticking with someone, for better or for worse?” She paused for air. “When things get tough, there’s always that first flight out, isn’t there?”

“I’ll ignore the insult. We’re discussing you, remember? For better or worse doesn’t apply yet, sweetheart. And I suggest you get the hell out before it does.” He exhaled, unable to believe he’d said the words on his tongue since day one.

Her eyes narrowed. “You have no right.”

“Maybe not, but if you marry my brother, you’re running the same way you think I am. I haven’t figured out why yet but I recognize the signs. Only difference between you and me is, when you wake up one morning with your heart and soul in pieces, you and your so-called commitment are stuck for good.”

He glanced at Carly, expecting her to come at him swinging. Instead she sat in a chair and wrapped her arms around herself like a lost child. The sight pierced his heart. Though he wanted to hold her, she probably wouldn’t let him near.

Just as well, he told himself. Now that he’d had his say, the rest was up to her. “You’ve got some decisions to make before it’s too late.” He drew a deep breath. “You say you’re tired of compromise? Prove it.”

She raised her head from where her chin rested on her knees. Her eyes mirrored her soul. Pain, anger, hurt, anguish... and myriad other emotions Mike couldn’t decipher melded in the dark depths.

“Do me a favor?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Anything.” He took two steps toward her.

“Get the hell out and leave me alone.”

* * *

Juliette slid into the seat across from Carly at a small restaurant on Madison Avenue. “You could have faxed your column in or dropped it off at the office.” She glanced back at the cases of baked goods, muffins, breads and scones. “But I’d much rather meet for food. I’m starving.”

She shook the green linen napkin out in front of her and placed it on her lap. “Orange pekoe tea, please,” she said to a passing waitress.

The younger woman paused. “Anything for you?” she asked, turning to Carly.

“Coffee.”

“Chamomile tea,” Juliette said. She leaned closer to Carly. “Your hands are shaking. The last thing you need is caffeine.”

Carly glanced at the waitress and shrugged.

“Chamomile’s fine.” She wasn’t here for food, just motherly advice and maybe a hug.

The waitress replaced her pad and walked away.

Juliette narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? You gave in too easily.”

“Why is it everyone thinks I’m a lapdog? I make my own decisions. I even put on a different shade of eyeshadow this morning,” Carly said, defiance in her voice.

“I said you’re
too
compliant, meaning I’ve never known you to back down from an argument with me in your life.”

Carly sighed. “That’s professional.”

“And you’re damn good at what you do. So while I was making an observation that something’s wrong because you’re not behaving like your confident self,
someone else
obviously sees you differently.” Juliette leaned back for the waitress to set down their cups, choice of tea and hot water. “Who?”

Carly needed to unburden herself with a desperation she’d never known before. And she trusted Juliette to listen without passing judgment and to offer the comfort she needed. “His name is Mike,” she said softly. “Mike Novack.”

“Peter’s...”

“Brother,” Carly finished for her.

“Good Lord, when you dive in, you really do it with both feet.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She drew a deep breath. “Jules... I don’t think I can marry Peter,” Carly said in a whisper. Then, to keep busy, she unwrapped the tea bag with shaking hands and let it steep in the steaming water.

Her friend braced her chin in her hands. “Go on. I don’t want to influence you one way or another until I hear what’s going through your mind. Keep talking.”

“It’s hard to explain. It’s like up until now I’ve gone through life in a fog and now the mist has cleared. I
feel
.”

Juliette nodded. “And it scares the living daylights out of you.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” What Mike did for her, to her and with her, reminded her of everything she’d sworn off early in life. Her father had destroyed her illusions, her perfect family, and worse, another human being. If that was the result of so-called love and passion, Carly could live without it.

But she couldn’t compromise herself to be Peter’s perfect mate. Not anymore. In fact, she couldn’t believe she’d convinced herself it was for the best. She’d observed her mother doing that kind of compliance, and for years, Carly had silently condemned her for it. Yet in an effort to break free of her father’s actions, she’d somehow believed she would be happy with that kind of bland life.

Thanks to Mike’s appearance, she now knew better. In that respect his observations had been on target. “Mike scares me,” she admitted. “But he isn’t what this is about.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Okay, then. Peter’s brother arrives from...”

“Overseas.”

“Overseas. Knocks you off your feet, makes you reconsider marrying Peter, thank the good Lord, but
he
isn’t what this life-altering decision is about?”

“No.” The excuse sounded lame to Carly, too. But no matter how much Mike Novack affected her, he was not a part of her future. “The man is sexy and sweet, but he’s just passing through my life.”

“What if he’s not? Every person has that perfect mate out there, Carly. What if he’s the one?”

She closed her eyes, wishing it was possible. But instead of happily ever after, all she saw were the pictures Mike had graphically described to her. War zones and traveling, danger and excitement. Those things appealed to Mike. He wasn’t the kind of man who wanted a wife and kids back home, or people to answer to.

And she wasn’t the kind of woman who would accept any less. Once he was gone, he was out of her life forever. They both knew it. “Even if he’s the one, Jules, he’s just not the staying kind of guy.”

* * *

Now that the decision had been made, Carly needed to get it over with as soon as possible. She drew a deep breath and with a trembling hand let herself into Peter’s office.

“Hi.” For his sake, she forced a smile.

“Hello.” He stood, then adjusted his tie. His gaze traveled over her, his brows crinkling with concern. “You look exhausted.”

“I am. Can I sit?” she asked, avoiding the urge to wring her hands. She had too much nervous energy building up inside her. She wasn’t sure she could get through telling him. Nor was she sure
how
to tell him without hurting him, something she did not want to do.

“Sure.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk. Carly sat, feeling more like a client than his fiancée. The signs had been there all along. She had just chosen not to heed them.

“I’ve got just a few minutes before the department meeting, so...”

She clenched her jaw, which only added to the building headache she’d had for the past few days. Even before talking to Juliette, she’d agonized over Mike’s blunt words in the bridal shop. Hearing her own fears verbalized by someone else, especially Mike, had sent her into a panic. Fight or flight, she now realized. She’d chosen first to fight Mike and then to run from the truth in his words. After two days locked in a battle with herself, she could now face the truth.

She fingered the strap on her purse and wondered how in the world to begin. “I know you hate unexpected surprises, but this is important.” And that was but one problem. Each time Peter ignored her for work or squeezed her in as an inconvenience to be tolerated, he put a serious dent in not only their relationship but in her self-esteem.

She deserved better.

“Like I said, I’ve got a few minutes. What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What isn’t wrong?” She leaned forward. “I don’t know how to say this except to just... say it. I want... I need... that is, I don’t think this marriage will work.” She forced the words out, then exhaled in relief.

She dared a glance at Peter’s face. Shock and disbelief crossed his features. “You what?”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “We’re different. It’s so obvious you can’t miss it... unless, of course, you want to.” Or aren’t paying attention, she thought sadly. “Take the wedding: I compromised on every major issue. The caterers, the color scheme, the rings...”

“If this is about those plain rings, we’ll cancel the original order and go back to buy those.”

Too little, too late, she thought.

“You should have said something sooner.”

“I did. Over and over.” Not that it had made a difference in their relationship. Wedding arrangements should have solidified the bond between them, not driven them farther apart. Their relationship had disintegrated and neither one had acknowledged the warning signs in time to rectify the problem. If Peter searched his heart as she had searched her own, would he also discover that he really hadn’t cared enough to bother? They’d each wanted something out of their relationship. Unfortunately they’d been two people with parallel goals. Their needs and desires had never crossed.