An After-Hours Affair

“Huh?”

“That’s not me.”

Emily laughed. “That most certainly is you.”

Jenny shifted experimentally. The sandals elongated her calves, tanned from swimming in the lake all summer. Her neck looked longer than usual, her arms more graceful, and the updo of her thick strawberry blond hair was complemented by Emily’s glamorous earrings. The necklace winked at her, while her artificially lengthened lashes blinked heavily over her green eyes.

The neck of the dress made the most of her cleavage. And her bare shoulder felt decadently sexy. For some reason, her waist seemed narrower than usual. Maybe it was the full skirt, or the way the cut of the bodice accentuated her breasts.

Nervous sweat popped out on her brow. “I can’t go out like this.”

“What? Afraid you’ll stop traffic?”

“Afraid I’ll get propositioned.”

“Good grief. You look like a movie star, not a hooker.”

“I feel like a hooker.”

“Yeah? Tell me, what does a hooker feel like?” Emily pulled a small jeweled purse out of her top drawer and snagged Jenny’s bag from where she’d dropped it on the bay window’s padded bench seat.

“This isn’t funny.” Panic began to swell in Jenny.

The makeover was all fine and good as a fantasy, but there was no way she could leave Emily’s house looking like this. The gossip would swirl around Royal for months to come.

How could she have let this happen?

How could she have been so foolish?

She swallowed. “We have to take it off.”

“There’s no time.”

“There’s—”

“If you don’t leave now, the bride will beat you to the church.” Emily stuffed the vital contents of Jenny’s bag into the jeweled clutch.

“I’m serious, Em.”

“So am I.” Emily pressed the purse into Jenny’s hand and held out her car keys. “You gotta go.”

“But—”

“You want to be late?”

“Of course not.” Jenny prided herself on her meticulous punctuality. And even if she didn’t, she’d never insult such a respected TCC member by rushing in at the last minute for his wedding.

Emily gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “Have a great time, Cinderella.”

Mitch Hayward was going to be late. Of all the days, of all the events, of all the stupid, stupid fiascos, it had to be this. At this rate, Rick and Sadie would be standing under the Leadership, Justice and Peace plaque at the Texas Cattleman’s Club clubhouse with a preacher pronouncing them man and wife, by the time Mitch made it into the parking lot.

He zipped past the diner in his vintage red Corvette and geared down for the corner at River Road, his back tires breaking loose against the hot asphalt. But he stomped defiantly on the gas pedal, muscled the car to head straight and prayed that Officer Brendall wasn’t out on traffic patrol at this particular moment.

The roof of the clubhouse came into view in the distance amongst the oak trees, at the same time as he spotted a long white limousine on the road in front of him. It had to be Sadie and her bridesmaids. He geared down and put the pedal to the floor, pulling around the limousine, hoping against hope that Sadie would forgive him for the stunt.

He screeched to a halt in the clubhouse lot, parking illegally before springing from the car and running up the stairs.

His assistant, Jenny Watson, was waiting by the door to the foyer.

He was conscious of a flash of bold burgundy, before snagging her arm and towing her toward the club lounge entrance.

“What happened?” she rasped, trotting to keep up with him.

“A flock of flamingos,” he growled, scanning the rows of folding chairs for vacancies.

“What?”

He spotted a pair at the opposite side of the flower-and-candle-bedecked room, and he beelined for them.

“Those plastic flamingos for the charity fundraiser,” he whispered to her, ignoring the censorious stares sent his way by the Texas Cattleman’s Club members assembled for the wedding. “The whole flock was planted on my front lawn.”

He plunked Jenny into a chair and seated himself, just as the piano music changed, and all heads turned to watch the first bridesmaid start her way down the aisle.

The attendants were pretty in pale lilac dresses, but Sadie and Rick’s two-year-old twin daughters all but stole the show. They were dressed identically in ivory lace dresses, accented with lilac ribbons and bows. They had flowers braided into their hair, and they dutifully dropped multicolored handfuls of rose petals from their baskets as they walked.

Then the pianist began the wedding march, and the guests rose as Sadie appeared in a stunning white gown, flowers woven into her hair, and a tremulous smile on her face as she approached Rick. Mitch was about as far from a romantic as a guy could get, but even he couldn’t help feeling a warm glow for the couple who had been through so much, were so obviously in love and were about to create a family with their two young daughters.

As the preacher pronounced the couple man and wife, the guests spontaneously burst into applause. And by the time Rick kissed his bride, most of the women, and even some of the men, were wiping misty eyes while they smiled with pure joy. Camera flashes went off and Rick and Sadie each picked up one of their daughters to make their way back down the aisle.

“That was lovely,” said Jenny, tucking her tissue back into her compact purse.

“You can’t help but be happy for them,” Mitch replied.

Then she pressed an elbow into his ribs. “Did the game go into overtime or something?”

“Sorry,” he apologized, his mind going back to the debacle of getting out of his driveway.

Truth was, he had been further delayed when a football buddy, Jeffrey Porter, his teammate on the Texas Tigers, had called on the road from Chicago. Jeffrey’s girlfriend of two years had caught him cheating and abruptly ended the relationship.

Mitch was intimately familiar with the temptation of beautiful women when a guy was on the road with the team. There was never a shortage of dates. It was one of the reasons Mitch had always avoided serious romantic relationships. If he couldn’t trust himself to be faithful, he wasn’t going to make any promises to anyone.

It was probably past time someone called Jeffrey on his behavior. Quite frankly, with the way his attention strayed, Mitch was surprised his buddy hadn’t been caught long before this. Still, he’d felt duty bound to sympathize with the wide receiver.

“What happened?” Jenny asked as the front rows of guests began surging down the aisle, following the wedding party out into the foyer.

“It was mostly the flamingos.” Mitch repeated the part of the story he’d decided to use as an excuse, while they waited their turn to exit the lounge. “Somebody obviously paid to have the flock planted on my lawn, and it was all I could do to navigate through the mess.”

She looked up at him, skepticism clear as her brows lifted above her green eyes. “What? Did they gang up on you?”