The Run Around Read online

  The Run Around

  Bernadette Franklin

  The Run Around

  by Bernadette Franklin

  Arranging a wedding for her brother and a five-time thoroughbride tests Hope’s skills and patience. She’d believed the vows would be the most dangerous part of the ceremony, but a baseball to the head during the photography session proves her wrong and lands her in the sights of her brother’s best friend, Fredrick.

  He wants her to plan his wedding.

  She wants to be his bride.

  Diving into the treacherous world of wedding planning, Hope keeps her word and arranges the vows for the one man she believes she could love. He doesn’t know how much she cherishes him and his friendship.

  What she doesn’t know lands her in the heart of a royal mess.

  Copyright © 2020 by Bernadette Franklin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Daqri Bernardo of Covers by Combs

  Caity,

  * * *

  I’m blaming you and those purple pens you sent me for this one. I regret nothing.

  * * *

  P.S.: I ran out of purple pens.

  Contents

  1. I made an excellent scapegoat.

  2. I held my breath through the officiation.

  3. Some risks were worth taking.

  4. I have a milkshake in my hand, so I’m surviving.

  5. I enjoyed catching the cheaters.

  6. No longer would I be a scapegoat.

  7. You should get a nicer model and buy yours new.

  8. One of the company’s accountants hired male prostitutes.

  9. An army of prostitutes gave me a copy.

  10. That was a cockroach, wasn’t it?

  11. Sensible landlords exist?

  12. Apparently, I’m adopting a dog and a kitten today.

  13. Why does this company have such a huge prostitution problem?

  14. I considered running away from her pet.

  15. It’s the naughty daughter calling.

  16. I loved snuggling up to my old man of a dog.

  17. I got dragged into a woman’s sewing room.

  18. They took ruthless to a whole new level.

  19. One day, I would admit I spoiled my pets rotten.

  20. Sleep is a requirement, Rick.

  21. The chocolates helped.

  22. Wait. She decided who you should be dating?

  23. Is your aunt someone you’d toss overboard?

  24. I am a fierce dragon, and my hoard consists of books.

  25. They were discussing destroying my e-reader if I didn’t dress appropriately.

  About Bernadette Franklin

  One

  I made an excellent scapegoat.

  A sensible woman would’ve been delighted to be her future sister-in-law’s maid of honor, as it implied cordial relationships or some sort of bullshit like that. I knew better.

  I made an excellent scapegoat.

  As the wedding party’s weakest link, everyone expected me to trip on my dress, maybe break an ankle along with my neck, or spill the entire wine fountain onto the floor. My brother claimed he loved me, but I believed he’d been the one to spread the rumor I was the world’s clumsiest woman.

  When I secured my revenge, it would be sweet.

  But first, I needed to survive my brother’s wedding without being responsible for a single hiccup. Playing to my brother’s misconceptions, I’d spent months tripping over nothing on purpose so I could transform myself into the image of traditional beauty and grace.

  I’d even lost twenty pounds so my dress would fit.

  The wedding would be a disaster, but I would emerge from the chaos smelling like roses, red wine, and garlic bread. Honestly, I doubted the wedding would make it to the reception.

  Some weddings had bridezillas. We had a thoroughbride, and if she got it into her head to run, I wished my brother the best of luck catching her before she fled from the church. My proposal to have the wedding on a yacht, where my brother’s thoroughbride couldn’t escape, hadn’t earned me points with anyone.

  The bride hated the ocean.

  My brother was smart enough to catch onto my implication.

  It wasn’t my fault Amy wasn’t exactly the most reliable woman in the world when it came to marriage. Once was a fluke. Twice was a trend. Five incidents of running from the wedding was evidence the thoroughbride would strike again, and my dear old brother would be saddled with the fifty thousand dollar bill, as he refused to believe Amy would run out on him.

  Oh, no. Amy would never run out on him.

  My brother was an idiot, but I loved him too much to let his wedding fail. My brother deserved to be left at the altar as snubbed groom number six, but I wouldn’t back out. I’d play my part, I’d even try to keep her from running or ruining the wedding, and I’d take as many pictures as possible to immortalize the chaos.

  Thanks to Amy’s awful taste in gowns, I had ample space in my cleavage to hide my phone.

  At four in the morning of the big day, I called in every favor owed to me so I could not quite match the bride in the beauty department. In exchange for doing his taxes for two years, Wolfgang transformed my dull, light brown hair into a curled work of art and handled my makeup. Clarice did my nails and toes for dibs on any interesting photos, and she’d even pay for them if she liked them.

  My brother would never forgive me for selling photographs of his wedding to a newspaper. If he hadn’t wanted me taking pictures, he wouldn’t have talked shit about me behind my back.

  “This is crazy,” Clarice muttered, fiddling with my toes while Wolfgang waged war against my unruly hair. “What did Matthew do for you to pull out all the stops? Wearing those baggy sweaters to hide your waist size was pure brilliance. I heard the thoroughbride bitching about how you’ll burst out of your very expensive dress.”

  “It’s a good thing my dress fits me perfectly, isn’t it?”

  “I worry for the donut supply the instant the reception is over.”

  Wolfgang snickered. “Do you think there’ll be a reception?”

  I shrugged. “We’ll find out in twelve hours. Did you talk to Ben?”

  “If the photographer doesn’t show, you’re covered,” he confirmed. “You’re good on the caterer, too. My source confirmed they started their work on the cake an hour ago, and they’re doing two just in case. If nothing goes wrong, you’ll be paying for the second cake in volunteer work.”

  I expected the caterer, a business operated by Wolfgang’s aunt, would be the most reliable element of the wedding. “The open bar?”

  “Aunt Emma has sworn on our family’s honor everything will be perfect.”

  “If this goes off without a hitch, I’ll double owe you both. The dresses are confirmed, Clarice?”

  “They’re in my SUV and ready to roll. I have a list of brides and maids who could use them if they survive through the day.”

  I had doubts about that. “The flowers?”

  “Ten-minute arrival window if needed, and if they’re not needed, they’ll be sent to the local hospitals and nursing homes to cheer up the patients. Your brother is on his own for the rings. There needs to be limits to your paranoia, Hope.”

  “You’re joking, right? Last week, Matthew warned me if I screwed anything up, my shame would be witnessed by royalty. I told him he was delusional. What sort of self-respecting member of royalty would be friends with my brother? He needs to worry about himself. He’s the one who wants to marry a th
oroughbride.”

  We laughed. There was little else we could do in the face of impending disaster.

  At exactly eight in the morning, I presented myself for bride-herding duty. Amy opened her door and gaped at me, her expression so stunned I had no doubt she’d expected me to flake from the very beginning. “Rise and shine, Amy. It’s your big day.”

  Take six.

  “Hope? You’re already dressed.”

  Not only was I dressed, I wore makeup and had nice hair, which wouldn’t survive the day if everything went as I expected. I forced a smile. “Of course. I need to give you my complete attention today so everything’s perfect.” I kept smiling until my face hurt. The effort to keep from clenching my teeth left me tired and ready to go back to bed. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I spilled wine on the dress last night. Mat was over, and we were drinking.”

  While my brother liked to drink, had she actually spilled wine on her dress while he was present, he would’ve called me in a complete panic. I questioned my decision to make certain my brother got the wedding he wanted.

  I also swore I wouldn’t judge until I had a chance to ask him if he had actually gone over and been a participant in the death of a dress worth more than I was. With my smile fixed in place, I retrieved my phone from my purse and texted Clarice about the first disaster of the day. “Where’s your stylist?”

  “He quit last night when I told him I’d need him an hour earlier.”

  There went one deposit, and I’d be lucky if I got any of that money back. Wolfgang might forgive me one day. Maybe. If I groveled sufficiently and became his slave for the rest of my life. The second text of the day went to him. Then again, if I survived the day, I’d consider it a win and sell myself into slavery without regret.

  Wolfgang’s world seemed so much better than mine.

  I drew in a steadying breath. “Any other problems?”

  “I think the photographer quit, too.”

  Any sensible photographer likely would when faced with Amy at her worst. I really couldn’t see what my brother saw in the woman, but I couldn’t make his important life decisions for him.

  Clarice would forgive me. Wolfgang might forgive me. Ben never would. Poor Ben. I texted Ben with a warning we’d upgraded from a thoroughbride to a bridezilla, and if I could somehow procure his skills for the day, my brother’s soul would be his to do with as he pleased.

  My brother’s soul, in the grand scheme, was worth a lot more than mine.

  As my bride-induced paranoia knew no bounds, I texted my father, an older man who’d stepped in when my parents had died years ago. The request to bring his parents’ rings would be the icing on the wedding cake for him, even if my brother and his goon of a bride didn’t manage to screw up their rings.

  My father would consider forgiveness in exchange for a son-in-law. He’d be a long time waiting for that disaster to happen, but if he hadn’t figured that out on his own, he hadn’t been paying attention for the past ten years of my life.

  It occurred to me we might have worse problems on our hands than a runaway bride out to ruin the wedding. I texted my mother just to make certain my brother showed up for his big day.

  Our parents would be rolling in their graves over my brother’s poor choice of bride. The first chance I got, I’d visit their tombstones and tell them all about the woman who’d turned Matthew’s life upside down.

  Amy stared at me, and I kept on smiling. Careful to keep my tone pleasant, I asked, “What is the situation with the florist?”

  “They’re the only thing not ruined.”

  Not only would I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I’d have tea with the devil to negotiate my takeover of hell before the day was through. Several pings on my phone drew my attention to the screen, with Clarice, Wolfgang, and Ben promising to come to my rescue. My father, in his text, informed me he would bring the rings and recruit Mom to herd Matthew and ensure he showed up without incident.

  I wondered if I should warn Dad Matthew might be hungover. On second thought, I wouldn’t.

  Matthew could handle the Wrath of Mom if she smelled lingering alcohol on his breath.

  “The replacement stylist should be here soon. I have a seamstress friend capable of performing miracles, and I’m sure I can handle the rest. If you have any concerns, let me know.”

  “I might be pregnant.”

  With how often my brother shacked up with his thoroughbride, I wasn’t surprised. “Have you told Matthew yet?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you won’t be partaking of the wine fountain. You can surprise him as a wedding gift. Congratulations. Also, that’s not a concern. Matthew loves children.” I’d consider it the one thing that might go right in the day.

  “It’s probably not his. He uses condoms religiously.”

  I’d seen brides with cold feet before, but none quite like Amy. I had no idea on what planet she thought she was fooling anyone; the woman didn’t have time for a tryst, and she’d spent every waking moment trying to piss me off or banging my brother.

  But if she wanted to play games, I’d play. “Fortunately for you, Matthew loves children.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and I snapped a photo of her to immortalize the moment I’d rendered the bridezilla speechless. In the time it took her to recover, Wolfgang arrived, his expression the ultimate mask of excitement. “Is this jewel the bride?”

  Wolfgang needed to have his head examined as soon as the wedding was over. “She sure is. Work your magic, Wolfgang. I’ve a dress and bridesmaids to wrangle.”

  No matter what, the only disaster at my brother’s wedding would be Amy.

  Amy concocted a thousand excuses to put the brakes on the wedding, testing my limits, pushing my buttons, and ultimately forcing my hand an hour before showtime. We shared a room with Amy’s three poor bridesmaids, who would have to witness the moment I transformed into a dragon and breathed fire.

  Amy’s friends had already lost their will to live, their dead eyes watching while they waited for the worst.

  They had no idea how determined I could be—or how ruthless.

  I’d enjoy teaching them why underestimating me was a bad idea.

  I smiled, and if Amy had any sense in her head, she would’ve recognized it as a warning she was about to have her ass handed to her. “Amy, my brother spent fifty-one thousand dollars on this wedding to make you happy. Go ahead. Try to run. I’ll haul your ass to the altar myself. If you want to divorce him tomorrow, fine. That’s your problem. I don’t care if you break Matthew’s heart tomorrow. But today? You’re getting married. You wanted this fancy wedding, and if you want to be a bitch, you’ll do so at the altar. Maybe you have the integrity of a newt, but if you’re going to spit in my brother’s face, you will do so where all five hundred guests, including your father’s top investors, can witness how unreliable and petty you really are. So. Are you walking with your father down the aisle? The other option is a literal ball and chain. I’m sure the ladies wouldn’t mind helping me lug it to the altar.”

  Amy’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened to the point she ran risk of them popping out of her head. Her friends gasped.

  The pretty blonde, a woman I believed had more money than sense, smirked, and her expression led me to believe I’d misjudged Kate. At least, I thought her name was Kate. She’d wisely dodged most of the preparations.

  “It weighs eighty pounds and cost me a small fortune.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Amy whispered, and I savored the doubt in her tone.

  “I dare. Go on. Try me. I’m in shorter heels, a better dress, and I’ve already requested backup. And if that isn’t enough to convince you, I’ve made a list of every expense leading up to your special day. I have your father’s cell phone number and his personal email address. Nice man, your father. It wouldn’t take me long to expose everything.”

  Amy paled, and only her obsessive-compulsive suntanning disorder kept her from match
ing her dress. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I worked too damned hard on this wedding to watch you ruin it by refusing to go to the altar like some spoiled brat who is just realizing life is work. If you want to chicken out during the vows, go for it. But you’re walking to that damned altar, and you’ll do so at the stately, dignified pace we practiced for hours yesterday. The entire way to the altar. We clear?”

  The thoroughbride-turned-bridezilla gulped. “We’re clear.”

  I turned to Kate. “If she looks like she’s going to run, trip her and sit on her long enough for me to fetch the ball and chain.”

  “You got it,” the woman replied. When she smiled, I recognized the expression as one of satisfaction.

  “Caterina! You’re siding with her?”

  “Damn straight I’m siding with her. She’s right. Also, sure, you might be pregnant, but we all know you’re too much of a chickenshit to cheat on Mat. The condom probably broke, and you puked up your birth control because you have the common sense of a rock. Don’t screw this up being stupid. Frankly, it’s a miracle you got another chance at this. Just do your part. You’ll thank us later.”

  I appreciated Kate’s optimism, but I doubted Amy would ever forgive me for ruining her plans to skip out on her extravagant wedding. Oh, well. I didn’t care what she thought. I wasn’t the one marrying her.

  I just wanted my brother to be happy, and I’d do a lot more than chain a runaway bride to give him what his heart wanted.