Then I open my eyes again. Crap. God isn’t listening. If there’s broadband between us and the divine, it’s more broken than my cable. “Just… Never mind. Let me shower in peace.”
I slip into the bathroom, run the water and furiously brush my teeth and gargle with a small bottle of mouthwash provided by the hotel. Then I strip and hop into the stall for the fastest shower in history. I need to be out there to make sure Nate doesn’t say anything to Barron that’s going to get us deeper into this mess.
I put on a fresh white T-shirt and jeans. My hair’s wet, but there’s nothing I can do about that, since it takes forever to blow-dry, and I don’t think Barron is the type to sit around patiently for that long.
Before going back out, I take a moment to inhale. Calm down. Relax. You can do this. Barron is just here to say hello. Form a unified front with Nate. Tell Barron it was just a mistake. The end.
When I open the door, I see a huge room service tray with coffee, water, toast, tea and sugar cookies. Nate’s munching on the toast and having coffee, while Barron’s enjoying his cookies.
“…should’ve thought of your mother,” Barron is saying. “She only has two children, and now both of you have eloped without any warning.”
Because we were never planning to elope. Besides, we’re going to annul the whole thing soon enough, and she’ll get to attend her son’s real wedding. So she shouldn’t be that sad.
Tell him that, Nate!
But instead, my boss looks properly chastised. “You’re right. I should’ve said something to her.”
What?
“I know Blanche has been a bit impatient about babies, but she probably wanted to be part of the ceremony, even if it was a Vegas elopement.”
“Of course.” Nate nods like a dutiful nephew, then pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me, barely meeting my gaze.
Is he avoiding me?
Barron turns his attention toward me, his glittering, dark eyes pinning me like a lance. “Do you have any siblings, my dear?”
“No,” I say, not ready to have this conversation with Barron. I quickly start drinking the coffee. The quicker the caffeine hits, the better I can handle Barron’s questions.
“Then I feel for your poor mother as well.” His tone is positively funereal. “You both need to buy her something extravagant and thoughtful to make up for this.”
I choke, then spit the coffee all over my white shirt. Crap. Now Barron’s going to think I’m a drunk and a klutz.
“Get your wife a napkin.”
Wife. I start wheezing.
Nate does one better. He blots my chin and shirt with the napkin. Why, oh why is he trying to be extra solicitous now, when normally he doesn’t even bother to pick out his own socks in the morning? I bet we look like a caring, loving couple. At least, it seems that way from the satisfied expression on Barron’s face.
“Actually, it can’t just be your mother,” Barron says when I finally recover.
I brace myself, making sure nothing else is in my mouth. I’m not letting him ambush me twice.
“Your father missed a chance to give you away. Should make up for that too.”
The mention of my dad deflates my mood. It would be nice to have him around at my real wedding—if Mom could ever find him. They broke up before she realized she was pregnant because he got a job in another state. She couldn’t reach him because he didn’t have any family, and it was before Facebook or Instagram. She always told me that my dad was a good man, and he would’ve done the right thing—if he had known about me—and loved me to pieces. I tried to find him myself, but it was impossible. There are just too many Bradley Browns in the world.
Nate looks chagrined, obviously sensing my mood. “Barron…” He shakes his head at his great-uncle.
For once, Barron no longer forges on like an unstoppable train. “I’m sorry. Did I touch on something sensitive?”
And that makes tears bead in the corners of my eyes. I sniffle. “No. It’s just…my father’s not around anymore. My parents lost contact with each other before I was born.”
Nate squeezes my hand. The gesture is so unexpected that I almost flinch, then let him hold my hand, appreciating the contact and comfort. “It’s okay. Really. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“Nobody should have to get used to something like that.” Barron purses his lips. “Regardless of how the actual ceremony went, I expect a small party to welcome Evie into the family. Justin should hold it. Say, two weeks from now at his home. He is the head of Sterling & Wilson now.”
“Why not sooner?” Nate asks.