The Run Around Read online

  Amy made one final attempt to abandon ship, and I caught her halfway out the window. A single clearing of my throat froze my brother’s future wife in place, one knee braced against the windowsill.

  “If you’re trying to snitch an extra rose for your bouquet, I’ve got one here,” I announced in my sweetest voice. My phone warned me we had five minutes until showtime. “Your father’s waiting outside, and he looks about ready to cry that you’re finally getting married. Smile, Amy. It’s your big day.”

  Either aware I’d shackle her to a literal iron ball or she was unable to follow through with disappointing her father yet again, Amy slid back into the room. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I love my brother almost as much as he loves you. And since I do love my brother almost as much as he loves you, I won’t tell him you tried to run. I’m telling myself at least one of you will have a great day. Maybe after the vows are exchanged, your cold feet will warm up. Also, if you try to run at the altar, I will chase you. You’re not giving my brother the run around today. Just be grateful I hired extra staff to cover your cancellations. You’ll have your perfect day, and if it makes you happy, you can gloat over how much it cost me to cover your ass.”

  “You paid for the replacements?”

  According to her tone, she couldn’t believe it was at all possible I could afford to do such a thing. My brother was the one with the money and connections, not me.

  Or so she thought.

  My job would never move me too far up in the world, but people trusted me with their money, and that went a long way in the business world.

  “With my sweat, blood, and tears. You can thank me later.”

  Judging from her glare, she wouldn’t be thanking me anytime soon. I refused to care. Satisfied I wouldn’t have to tell my brother the love of his life had run, I pointed at the door. “It’s showtime. Pretend this is the happiest day of your life. It would be embarrassing if your face ended up plastered on the front page of some tabloid. They love calling out runaway brides who sucker their grooms out of tens of thousands of dollars on a wedding. And I really don’t think your daddy will be keeping you in his will if you humiliate him in front of his investors today. Hate me all you want, but I am helping you.”

  “The tabloids? What tabloids?”

  “You’re a registered thoroughbride marrying a man with some money and influence, Amy. Of course the tabloids are interested in your wedding. The only way you win is if you see this through.”

  I really hoped she was half as great a person as my brother believed. If not, I’d have to figure out some way to convince him to forgive me.

  “I hate you,” Amy whispered.

  “I’m sure you do. I’m a bitch on a good day. Don’t make this a bad one.” I glared at her and snapped my fingers, once again pointing at the door. “Time for you to be happily married. Emphasis on the happily. Double emphasis on the married. Now, march!”

  Two

  I held my breath through the officiation.

  I took my place as the bridesmaid of honor, kept a smile plastered on my face, and wished I could go home and sleep. When I’d suggested shorter vows, I’d pissed off my brother and triggered Amy’s indignant wrath. I’d convinced them to cut down the twenty-minute monstrosity to five nerve-racking minutes. Time dragged while I worried my brother’s thoroughbride would bolt for the door.

  She stayed, and I held my breath through the officiation. Only after they both signed the paperwork did I relax.

  Well, as much as I could. One thoroughbride down, one reception to go. If I pretended we weren’t booked for three hours of photographs before the reception, could I skip? I’d done my part. For better or worse, my brother was a married man.

  I hoped he didn’t regret his choice—and that Amy wouldn’t wage a war to turn my brother against me. I figured that was part of being an in-law. I gave it twenty-four hours before I became enemy number one.

  If I focused on the good things, I’d get through the day. Mom and Dad were happy, beaming that their son had gotten hitched and had wrangled a thoroughbride without her running off. To them, it didn’t matter we were adopted; they’d done their jobs as parents and seen their boy safely married off. The bride’s parents seemed to be likewise thrilled.

  Mom would wait a few weeks before starting her campaign to marry me off. Dad would start dropping hints immediately if not sooner, as I’d seen the gleam in his eyes when he’d watched Amy’s father walk her down the aisle.

  Maybe I needed to run away before I got caught up in the wedding nonsense.

  Per our plan, the happily married couple left the church with the rest of the wedding party in tow. Three limousines waited to cart us to the botanical gardens thirty minutes away.

  Amy stuck close to my brother, who did his best to start a conversation with his new wife. In the time it took us to divide into the three limousines, he’d coaxed a single smile out of her.

  It was better than I expected, all things considered.

  I really could be a bitch sometimes.

  Before I could pick a limousine, Kate linked arms with me and dragged me to the last limo in the line. “That was brilliant. No one outside of the bridesmaids has any idea that was almost a disaster.”

  Well, someone was happy with me. I’d take what I could get. I retrieved my phone from its hiding place in my cleavage and checked the time. If I had gotten one of the larger models, I wouldn’t have been able to pull the stunt off. All hail simple, small phones with decent cameras built in. “We have eight more hours of potential disasters ahead of us left. Let’s not get overly optimistic here. The only reason the photography shoot might work out is because I handled the arrangements for the limos and the gardens. And yes, I booked a second photographer knowing Amy would somehow screw up the first one.”

  “Why aren’t you a wedding planner?” Kate shoved me into the limo and scooted onto the leather seat beside me, and the other bridesmaids converged to ensure I couldn’t escape. “You’ve worked miracles today. How did you even pull this off? Emily, Sarah, and I? We can’t figure it out.”

  I laughed. The truth hurt, and I’d be spending the next six months of my life ruing and lamenting the choices I’d made to make my brother happy. “I’m a tax accountant, Kate. So far, I’m doing two years’ worth of corporate taxes for several small businesses. Basically, I bribed people, offered to do their personal and corporate taxes, and spent the entirety of my vacation fund making certain this wedding happened.”

  “On top of the fifty grand your brother paid?” Kate’s eyes widened.

  “Fourteen grand of that went to the church and reception hall. Thanks to Amy’s poor life decisions, the rest of the funds went bye-bye.”

  “That’s horrible. You won’t get any of that back?”

  “I wasn’t planning on getting the money back. I don’t have time to chase after every cancelled contractor. At most, I could get the payments for the actual work back, but the deposits are gone. And thanks to Amy’s poor life choices, the deposits were way too high for the work anyway. Please don’t tell Mat. He has no idea Amy lost the deposits and most of the wedding funds with her cold feet. But it’s done now, and she signed the marriage certificate—and no one protested their vows. As far as I’m concerned, it was worth every penny.”

  Kate looked me over before exchanging long looks with her friends. “Are you a queen bitch or an angel, Hope? I can’t tell.”

  “Closer to bitch, but thank you. As long as Mat’s happy, that’s all I care about.”

  “Except your brother invested over fifty grand to lose all but fourteen.”

  I arched a brow and stared at Amy’s friend. “And he would’ve paid twice as much to make her happy. I’m not going to ruin that for him. Just don’t trust her with your event planning. She’ll bleed you dry.”

  In her effort to drive me insane, Amy had insisted on inviting everyone to the botanical gardens for the photography shoot. Getting tickets for everyone had involve
d a special RSVP on the wedding invitations and hours upon hours of printing and distribution. To add insult to injury, Amy had demanded beautiful, gold-framed tickets.

  The stupid envelopes alone had cost my brother a fortune.

  The limos arrived first, with a parade of other cars tailing us. Expecting Amy to screw up the admittance to the garden, I bolted from the vehicle to intercept the newlyweds. “Have your tickets?” I chirped, ready to dig into my little clutch for one of the spare tickets if needed.

  Under no circumstances would my brother learn I wanted to run away and hide thanks to his new wife.

  Mat held up the two gold-gilded envelopes that contained their tickets. “All good, Hope. Even if I screwed it up, I do have my wallet with me. Despite my inability to plan a wedding, I have mastered ticket stalls. And you thought my love of going to the movies would never amount to anything.”

  One day, my brother would yank my last chain, and I’d go truly crazy. I did have to admit his love of going to the movies had made him the perfect gopher for ticket acquisitions—usually. Unless a wedding and botanical garden visits were involved.

  “Try not to get lost. You’ll make the photographer cry—and after Ben’s done with you, I’ll take a turn.”

  “As I value my life, I promise I won’t give Ben any reason to kill me. On my honor. I still don’t know how you managed to pull all this off, but thank you.”

  “You can thank Amy. She helped.” I smiled at my masterful disguising of my sarcasm. Amy’s embarrassed flush helped curb my desire to make additional snide commentary. “But seriously. Congrats to you both.”

  My brother beamed and kissed the top of my head, once again reminding me I faced a lifetime of being short. “Try not to cry too much when you can’t beg me to kill spiders for you anymore, little sister.”

  Considering I’d last asked him to kill a spider for me about five years ago, I’d probably manage. If the damned thing hadn’t been on the toilet seat in his bathroom, I would’ve been fine without help. “Well, now you only need to worry about Amy. Also, that was a long time ago.”

  “It was,” he conceded, checking his watch. “Mind doing me a favor?”

  While tapped out in the favor department, I resisted my initial urge to strangle my brother in front of the wedding guests. “What do you need?”

  “My friend’s dog ate his ticket. Can you get him inside? I really don’t want Ben to kill me.”

  There was always one. Always. “Sure. I’ll meet him here. Send him my picture so he knows who to look for.”

  “Thanks, Hope. You’re the best.” My brother snapped a picture with his phone before escorting Amy into the gardens. The rest of the wedding party followed with the arriving guests hot on their heels. If his friend took longer than twenty minutes, Ben would kill me for interrupting his schedule. Then again, a quick death might be a mercy, an escape from the photo shoot, and a way out of attending the reception.

  One way or another, I expected the reception to finish me off, assuming I made it out of the gardens alive. I wouldn’t put it past Amy to find some poisonous flower and off me with it. If I cared a little less about my brother’s perfect day, I would’ve considered changing my plans and consuming the entire wine fountain rather than have my picture taken. Given thirty minutes, I could do some serious damage to the wine supply. Liver failure would ruin my day, but my brother would leave with Amy long before I sought out the bottom of the barrel.

  “You Hope?” a deep, smooth voice asked with enough of a rumble to curl my toes in my foot-torture devices otherwise known as shoes.

  I turned to behold a vision of male perfection, too tall for my good, with warm brown eyes and chestnut hair tinged with red. Add in a smooth jawline, a mouth well accustomed to smiling, and dimples, and I’d need at least a few weeks to recover. “I’m Hope.”

  “Sorry for the fuss. My dog pulled the invitation off the counter right before my flight.” He reached into his jacket and revealed a chewed envelope. “She doesn’t like when I leave home.”

  I’d do a lot more than chew on an envelope to keep him at home if he were mine. “I’m afraid I require pictures of your dog to verify your claim.”

  His smile widened into a grin, and he retrieved his phone. “You just want to see pictures of my dog.”

  “And if she’s cute, I’ll be forced to scold you for accusing her of wrongdoing.”

  “Let me guess. You think all dogs are cute.”

  “Was it obvious?” I made a show of tapping my forehead. “Did I finally get it tattooed to my face?”

  “Mat hadn’t told me about your sense of humor.” My brother’s friend held out his phone. “This is Annabel Lee.”

  A big, white, gray, and fluffy dog grinned for the camera. “Well, in good news for you, that kind of dog won’t get cold even when near the sea. What is she?”

  “For all her paperwork claims she’s a purebred, I think she might be a mutt. From the looks of her, she must be part Alaskan Malamute, part pony. Mat neglected to tell me you’re a poetry fan.”

  Annabel Lee didn’t look like a Malamute to me, but I couldn’t tell what breed she actually was. “I’m more of an abandoned English literature major who ditched to major in accounting instead after translating the original Canterbury Tales. Quoth the Hope, ‘Nevermore!’ I thought it was wise to quit before I murdered my professor. I see red whenever someone asks me to quote from the Raven. But Annabel Lee is a favorite.”

  “My mother loved the poem, so I named my dog Annabel Lee.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. My mother stopped loving it when eight-year-old me recited it approximately ten thousand times. I live to vex my mother, and she loves my dog despite her name.”

  There had to be something horribly wrong with my brother’s friend, but what? Did he snore? Steal the blankets? Hover sexily at inappropriate times? “Mat didn’t tell me your name.”

  “That’s like him. I’m Fredrick, but please call me Rick.” He shuffled his phone to his left hand and offered to shake with me.

  Instead of the expected shake, I got a light kiss to the back of my hand.

  All right. How had my brother become friends with a gentleman? “I’m Hope, and I don’t have any nicknames because the last person who tried to give me one called me Ho, and my brother punched him. I was in high school at the time, and it was a teacher.”

  “Believe it or not, I heard about that incident from Mat. He got the teacher fired but spent the night in holding. No charges were ultimately filed though, right?”

  “No charges,” I confirmed. “He recorded the teacher pestering me with his phone and threatened to bring up sexual harassment charges against the school. Honestly, I was about to punch the teacher, too.”

  Rick released my hand and grinned. “No worries about anything like that from me, Hope. Does my incredibly sweet but mischievous dog earn me a pass for the damaged ticket?”

  Laughing, I nodded and gestured to the ticket booth. “I’ll get you sorted. I have open tickets, but we need to give them your residency info. You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. Honestly, I was just going to buy my own replacement ticket, but Mat got pissy. It seems insulting your hard work is simply not allowed. To be fair, we were betting Amy would run, even him—and he’s been working out to make sure he could catch her if she took off. That woman loves running him in circles. How on Earth did you convince her not to run? Everyone’s saying you’re a miracle worker.”

  Ew. I didn’t want anyone’s attention on me as a result of my brother’s wedding actually succeeding. I masked my dismay with a roll of my eyes. “If you really must know, I used a ball and chain.”

  “A ball and chain? Do tell.”

  A five-minute chat with the poor woman at the ticketing booth sorted the problem of Rick’s ticket, who had ventured from Japan to attend the wedding. As Fredrick had as much Asian blood as his dog, I assumed he was one of Mat’s overly rich businessmen friends with more mon
ey than sense.

  Did being an overly rich businessman count as something severely wrong with him? After a fierce but brief debate with myself, I decided I needed to gather additional information before issuing a verdict.

  “So, about that ball and chain,” he said after we entered the gardens. “I really must know.”

  “It weighs about eighty pounds, it cost me a small fortune, and it would have looked terrible with her dress. I informed her I would recruit the rest of the bridesmaids to haul it to the altar if she tried to run. She obviously believed me.”

  “Would you sell me that ball and chain, please? I’ll pay good money for it.”

  “As I have no use for a solid iron ball and chain that was painted white and equipped with the best lock money could buy for below two hundred, consider it yours. Happy belated birthday—assuming it’s not your birthday today.”

  He stumbled a few steps and gaped at me. I took advantage of the opportunity to make my escape, cutting through the first topiary maze to catch up with the rest of the wedding party. Mat would just love having to deliver an eighty pound ball and chain to his friend, a gift from his little sister.

  Not.

  For the first time that day, I truly laughed.

  The pond in the heart of the gardens made the ideal place for wedding photographs. As I had expected trouble from the very beginning, I’d learned every shortcut through the place to reach the first stop of our picture tour.

  Despite waiting for Rick and dealing with his ticket, I beat the rest of the wedding party to the pond. Ben chuckled and waited for me to catch my breath.

  “And you laughed at me for spending so much time over the weekends jogging in the gardens.”

  “I’m impressed but also concerned. Your brother texted me that you might be late. Make yourself as pretty as an ugly duckling can. I’ll do your solo shots now. Else, the harpy might try to cut you out of the photographs completely.”

  “That would annoy my brother, but I can’t say I don’t deserve being cut out at this point. Am I mussed or sweaty?”