The Best Man's Plan

His own parents’ marriage had been a profitable merger between two business dynasties. Once they’d done their duty and produced an heir, they’d been more than happy to pretty much go their own ways. Divorce had never been an option; since neither interfered with the other, there’d been no need to put an end to their partnership. The marriage had actually been a convenient excuse for both of them, since neither had been interested in marrying again. Bryan had grown up knowing that his parents were quite fond of him, in their own busy, distracted ways, and tolerated each other when it was socially necessary.

The telephone on Chloe’s desk rang suddenly, interrupting his reminiscences. She answered with her professional voice, but then her tone warmed. Bryan knew immediately who was on the other end of the line. He’d never seen Chloe react this way to anyone but Donovan.

She’d never felt even remotely the same way about him.

“I can leave as soon as Grace returns,” he heard her say into the phone. “It should be no more than half an hour.”

Bryan stood, intending to leave her to finish her call in privacy, but she stopped him with a motion of her hand. “I’ll see you in half an hour,” she told her fiancé, then disconnected the call.

“Donovan just called to see if I’m free for lunch,” she explained to Bryan after returning the receiver to its cradle. “You don’t have to rush off.”

He remained on his feet. “I’ve kept you from your work long enough. I just wanted to say hello. Thanks for the tea.”

She rose and moved closer to him, smiling. “I enjoyed the visit. I have always considered you a good friend, Bryan. I’m glad we’ve been able to maintain that relationship.”

“I will always be your friend,” he replied immediately. “And since the man you’re marrying is like a brother to me, we’re almost family now.”

Her smile deepened prettily. “I like that.”

“So do I.” Feeling rather as if he was officially sealing the new status of their relationship, he leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek.

“Sorry. Am I interrupting?”

Grace’s dry question drew their attention toward the doorway. Chloe had left the door partially ajar, so neither she nor Bryan had heard Grace push it open. She stood in the doorway now with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed as she looked from him to Chloe and back again.

Moving a step away from Chloe, Bryan nodded. “Hello, Grace. How’s it going?”

“Fine. Chloe, Justin needs you at the counter. Something about a special order for Mrs. Crothers?”

“Oh, right. I’ll go take care of that before Donovan comes to take me to lunch.”

Still giving Bryan a look that made him feel as though he should shuffle his feet and apologize for something—anything—Grace moved out of her sister’s way. She stepped back into the doorway before Bryan could follow Chloe out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you, too. You look lovely, by the way. I’ve always liked you in green.”

Grace’s reaction to his flattery was just the opposite of her sister’s. She seemed to grow even more suspicious of him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Why am I here? I had a couple hours free—okay, actually I ducked a meeting that seemed both pointless and much too boring for such a nice day. I took a walk through the River Market district and ended up here. Chloe poured tea for me and we had a nice chat. Would you like a transcript of our conversation?”

She didn’t respond to the lame jest except to glare even harder. “It doesn’t look right—you kissing my sister when she’s engaged to someone else.”

“Jealous?” he shot back, holding on to his patience with an effort.

Her cheeks flamed—a response he found quite interesting. “Don’t be a jackass, Bryan. I’m just thinking about what the gossip columnists would write if someone reported to them that you were kissing Chloe in her office. The whole point of this game we’re all playing is to defuse any talk about you and my sister, remember?”

“It was a friendly peck on the cheek between friends, nothing more. No one saw us except you—and I doubt you’re going to alert the media. And I’m tired of standing here defending my actions to you. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

She moved slowly out of his way as he approached. “I simply…”

He didn’t want to hear any more lecturing from her at the moment. “See you around, Grace,” he said.

On an impulse, he stopped in front of her and reached out to thread his fingers into her hair. He covered her mouth with his before she could guess his intentions. “Report that to the media,” he murmured after he released her, then turned and made a hasty exit.

Chapter Four

G race wished she could spend Thursday evening scrubbing floors. Or paying bills. Even cleaning bathrooms seemed preferable to yet another evening socializing with the rich and semifamous.

This time it was a political fund-raiser at an exclusive Little Rock country club. The governor would be there, along with a gaggle of other politicians, several notable business leaders, a few sports heroes and Arkansas-born celebrities, and a military dignitary or two. Grace figured she would be as out of place there as a cat at a dog show, but she had made a commitment and she wouldn’t back out—no matter how badly she might want to.

Dressed in a sleeveless black silk dress—her limited wardrobe was going to force her to go shopping soon if she had to keep attending these glitzy events—she entered the ballroom at Bryan’s side. It had been somewhat awkward between them so far. Bryan was in one of his annoying, teasing-and-flirting moods, and she was still sulking over that parting kiss Tuesday in her office. He’d left her sputtering for a snappy comeback and mentally kicking herself for not physically kicking him. And he’d probably guessed everything she was thinking, the jerk.

Conversations in the ballroom were discreetly muted, with only an occasional burst of laughter here and there. An orchestra played elevator-suitable show tunes, and unrecognizable, but probably very expensive, hors d’oeuvres were artfully arranged on tables decorated with candles and ice sculptures—a potentially unfortunate combination, in Grace’s opinion.

Everyone in the room seemed to be on a first-name basis with Bryan—including the governor. They spent what seemed like a few days circling the room, swapping greetings and meaningless pleasantries and incredibly lame jokes.

“You can stop smiling now,” Bryan murmured when they had paused in a dim corner after making the obligatory rounds. “No one’s looking.”

“No,” she snapped back, “I can’t. My face is permanently stuck in this stupid expression. It’s going to be like this for the rest of my life, and then I’m going to die and lie in my coffin grinning inanely at all the mourners who pass by.”

He laughed and looped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure I’ll do something to wipe the smile from your face soon.”

“Watch that roving hand,” she growled.

He laughed again and moved his hand to a more innocuous position. “What did I tell you?”

“Can we leave yet?”

“Darling, we just got here.”

“It feels as if we’ve been here for a week. And do you have to call me darling every ten seconds or so?”

“Of course not. Sweetheart.”

Because punching one’s escort in the stomach was considered impolite, and because she had made a vow to herself to be on her best behavior that evening, Grace decided to let that one pass.

She happened to be looking at Bryan when his smile suddenly froze, then slowly faded. “Well, hell.”

Her left eyebrow rose. “What’s wrong?”

“My parents just walked in.”

Turning to follow the direction of his gaze, she tried to spot a likely looking couple among the well-dressed crowd. She’d never met Bryan’s parents, and he rarely spoke of them, at least to her. “I take it you weren’t expecting them?”

“I thought Dad was on a fishing trip in Belize.”

He didn’t seem particularly pleased to find out otherwise. Grace turned to study his expression, which was difficult to read. “You don’t get along with your parents?”

With a slight shrug, he replied, “We get along fine. Dad’s still a little annoyed with me for leaving the family business to go off on my own, but he rather enjoys the bragging rights that go along with my success. My mother has always had a fascination with celebrities, so she’s always nagging me to introduce her to movie stars and supermodels—even the ones I’ve never met. She knows everyone in the local social community, of course, but she’s always fantasized about mingling with the Hollywood elite—something my father couldn’t care less about.”