The Marrying Type Page 12

  At one point, Elliot’s eyes were inexplicably drawn to Eric’s. The warmth in them sent a chill up her spine again. Her back still tingled from where his hand had been. She shook her head, hoping to knock something loose.

  She had no business lusting after Eric. The next time she and Eric were paired together for any reason, she needed to decline. The emotions churning in her were much too strong to allow it.

  Angelica called Elliot up to practice dance moves with each of the groomsmen and Adam before the end of the night. Despite the angst that came from her first dance with Eric, she actually enjoyed the later dances.

  While everyone else ate the finger foods provided by the bride and groom for dinner, Elliot privately met with the dance instructor to thank her for taking them on at last minute.

  “Anything for you, my darling,” she said. “I’ve missed seeing you around here the past few years.”

  “It’s been more than a few years since my dance class days.”

  “Far too many years. Maybe you should consider an adult class.”

  “Or maybe I can keep signing up wedding parties for dance classes.”

  “Deal.”

  Elliot hugged the woman and walked back toward the party in the studio. Hushed voices down one of the hallways stopped her. Normally she wouldn’t eavesdrop on someone else’s conversation, but someone said her name. Intrigued, she remained hidden behind the corner and waited.

  “You went to college with Elliot?” Heloise asked.

  “We had an English class together.”

  “What kind of a student was she like? She always seemed like a goody-goody at our high school. I always wanted her to be a little bad in college. Just to be interesting.”

  Elliot held her breath waiting for the answer. If he ever planned to be cruel, now was his chance.

  “She was perfect,” he said instead. “She never turned in late assignments, spoke up in class, and challenged the rest of us to do better.”

  “Pity.”

  “Do you have a problem with her?”

  “Of course not,” she answered quickly. Elliot relaxed a little. “I adore her. Seriously, I do. I wish she was my sister-in-law instead of the witch.”

  “Marissa seems nice.”

  “To you, maybe, but she’s definitely high maintenance. Our mom always hoped Elliot and Chase would get together, but she’s warmed up to Marissa now.”

  “Did Elliot date your brother?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Elliot’s eyebrows shot up. The closest she and Chase ever came to dating was the time he’d appeared at her apartment with a bouquet of roses and a last-minute invitation to join him for a concert. She had let him down gently, which didn’t constitute a date.

  “Chase and Elliot were in the same class in school. Chase had a long-standing crush on Elliot,” Heloise said. “He finally worked up the courage to ask her out a couple of years into college, but she turned him down.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. For some reason she never dates anyone,” Heloise said. “Rumor has it she dated some guy her freshman year, but they didn’t work out.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Warming up to the topic, Heloise pushed forward. “Then she went through her awkward years.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She got really fat.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Okay, maybe she wasn’t fat.” Heloise released a sigh, adjusting her tone to sound more contrite. “But she definitely wasn’t taking it easy on the carbs. After college, her older sister talked some sense into her, and she must have done something, because she slimmed down. I figured she had a tummy tuck, but my brother said she started working out more. Whatever.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She still doesn’t date much,” Heloise continued. “Maybe she’s a lesbian. Chase and Marissa say she isn’t, but they’ve lied to me before. Maybe she’s just plain crazy. A woman can’t keep a man around if she’s nuts.”

  Elliot silently fumed. Not because Heloise said she might be gay. Who cared? However, she didn’t like anyone calling her crazy. She tried way too hard to keep herself together to let some silly person suggest otherwise.

  Eric’s voice gave her pause. “Maybe she hasn’t found the right person.”

  “Maybe, but why do we care? Tell me more California. Do you surf?”

  Annoyed with the conversation and uninterested in witnessing Heloise flirt with Eric, Elliot walked away to grab a bite to eat. She paused to smile at the two when she walked past them on her way. Heloise seemed oblivious, but Eric started. Let him worry about how much she’d heard of their conversation. It would teach him a lesson to gossip.

  For her part, Elliot wondered why he’d stood up for her. And seemed interested in her dating history. She supposed it was only natural for him to wonder who she’d been with in their time apart. His final words stood out to her. He’d actually defended her. Maybe his attitude toward her was softening. Maybe they could be friends when this was over. Or maybe he was capable of being more fair than she’d given him credit.

  AN HOUR LATER, ELLIOT’S good mood soured. She turned the key in her car’s ignition again, but nothing happened.

  She glanced at her watch. A tow would cost a small fortune this late at night. She could always call a cab and deal with this later. That was probably the more sensible thing to do. A black sports car pulled up, interrupting her train of thought. The window rolled down and Eric leaned his head out. Getting her irritation in check, Elliot took a deep breath and opened her car door.

  “Yes?”

  “Having car troubles?”

  She considered pretending everything was fine, but what was the point? “It won’t start.”

  “Is it your battery?”

  “No. I can turn my lights on.” She flipped them on to illustrate the point.

  “Might be your starter.”

  “I figured as much.” Elliot spoke through gritted teeth, growing increasingly frustrated with the situation.

  “Someone can give you a ride,” Heloise’s voice said from inside Eric’s car. Elliot’s eyes flew to his, but he glanced away before she read them. So Eric was giving Heloise a ride. Interesting. Elliot’s eye twitched.

  “I’ll call Marissa and Chase and ask them to come back for me. The car will be safe here overnight, and I’ll tow it in the morning.”

  “Your house is on Adam and Sadie’s way,” Eric said. “I’m sure they’d be glad give you a ride.”

  He gestured to their vehicle, which pulled up on the other side of Elliot’s.

  “Having some car trouble?” Adam asked. Elliot was at her wit’s end. Clearly she was having car trouble, but she was tired of talking about it. Tired and embarrassed.

  “Sounds like her starter is shot,” Eric said. “Would you give her a ride home?”

  “Sure.”

  Elliot should have appreciated Eric’s help. The polite course of action would have been to thank him for the kind gesture. Instead, she barely gave him a parting glance when she got into Adam’s car.

  What bothered her most: that he was with another woman, or that he was with Heloise?

  Chapter Twelve

  “Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.”

  ~ Jane Austen

  THE DANCE CLASS—OR rather what happened at the class—stayed with Elliot long after she’d sorted out the mess with her car. Her exchange with Eric on the dance floor. The conversation she’d overheard. Watching him leave with Heloise. Everything replayed in her mind at warp speed. Worse, she was still shell-shocked from the range of emotions crammed into a ninety-minute session. She’d experienced everything from fear and annoyance to confusion and even attraction.

  The last one kept her up at night. Maybe her libido was to blame. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed a man’s company in that way. Any woman in her late twenties would be hard-pressed not to get the urge to kiss a man like Eric—especially when
they’d been in each other’s arms.

  She couldn’t excuse the jolt of lust that pitched into her stomach every time she made eye contact with Eric or caught his scent in the days following. One time, he’d grazed her arm reaching across the table for a piece of paper, and her heart had nearly pounded out of her chest. She’d played it off by excusing herself to splash water on her face. She’d had to repeat the exercise an hour later when his eyes crinkled as he’d laughed at something Sadie had said.

  The cold water had been a short-term fix. She’d need something more permanent if she was going to get through the rest of summer with even a shred of dignity intact.

  Worn out from the war waging inside, she conceded when Rosalyn dropped another hint about meeting Ben Wick. Even with her busy schedule, she had time to grab a drink after work. Besides, maybe Ben would be exactly what she needed to take her mind off Eric.

  They met for coffee one weeknight after both of them had finished work for the day.

  With the sun setting to their backs, Ben and Elliot took a seat on a bench overlooking the water with their cups of coffee and tea respectively in hand. Under her eyelashes, she casually scanned the man seated next to her. He’d taken time to ditch his tie and pick up Harvey, his well-mannered beagle, after work, but he hadn’t changed out of his suit. She couldn’t place the designer off the top of her head—one suit was usually the same as the other to her—but she recognized the quality. It said “expensive” and “good taste.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me bringing Harvey.” The dog perked up at the sound of his name coming from his master’s lips. “I feel guilty leaving him at night when he’s cooped up alone at home all day.”

  “It’s no problem. I like dogs.” She leaned down and offered the dog her hand. Instead of sniffing her out as expected, he placed a paw in it. Charmed, she set down her tea and scratched behind his ears. “However, I may be in love with this one you have here. What a gentleman.”

  “Harvey is great. My ex and I adopted him a couple of years ago.” Ben cleared his throat. “When we split, she took the apartment and I took him. I got the better deal.”

  “Sounds like it.” Unsure of where to take the conversation next, she kept her attention focused on the dog. She hadn’t been on a date in longer than she cared to mention, but even she understood him talking about his ex this early wasn’t a good sign.

  Clearing his throat again, Ben shifted in his seat. “My mother tells me you plan weddings. Sounds interesting. And lucrative.”

  “Yes.” She stopped petting Harvey and picked up her tea while she straightened. “I’ve been working for my family’s event planning business since I finished school.”

  “I bet you have a bunch of stories to tell.”

  “A few.” She sipped the tea to buy a few more seconds to come up with a longer answer. “Unfortunately, right now nothing comes to mind. My brain is fried. Summers are our busy time. This one happens to be even busier.”

  “Because of your TV show?” She raised an eyebrow and a slow grin spread across his face. Smiling made him slightly more approachable and human. “My mother told me. She’s been feeding me information about you since I moved back.”

  “Rosalyn has already told me your life story, too.”

  “Is it okay if we drop the act? Stop pretending we’re complete strangers and try to have a normal conversation?”

  “I’d like that.” She paused to come up with a new topic, but couldn’t. “What should we talk about? I don’t have a lot of conversation starters. I spend most of my life getting people married.”

  “I hate when people get married.”

  Of course he did. The poor man was going through a breakup—and a canceled wedding as part of the deal. His heart and pride had to be hurting. Without considering what the contact might mean, she placed a hand on his forearm.

  Unsure of what to say, Elliot offered, “Weddings are hard.”

  “They take over a person’s life,” he said. “My fiancée was obsessed. One minute she was an interesting, spirited woman. The next she’s yelling at me, because I don’t understand the importance of having ginger blossoms in a centerpiece. If my fiancée hadn’t left me for the jerk in her office, I probably would’ve called the whole thing off anyways. She was crazy.”

  She flinched at his choice of words, but didn’t take issue with them. The man was clearly not over everything he’d been through. She followed his gaze to the edge of the water. She wondered if he saw the waves lapping onto shore or the trio of children splashing each other. Maybe he was too lost in his rant to see anything.

  “She’s not the only one. Everyone goes nuts. One minute you have a normal, well-adjusted friend who you share lots of interests with. Then they get engaged, and within a week you’re talking about menus, flowers, and cakes.” His hand clenched into a fist around Harvey’s leash. “And these are the guys, too. They put a ring on their girl’s hand and within six months they’re skipping a pickup game at the gym to take a dance class.”

  Ben loosened his grip and flashed her an apologetic grin. “Sorry. Sometimes I tend to ramble on and on. It drove my ex crazy.”

  “It’s okay.” Elliot shrugged. “Table settings are never something you should have to hear about while you’re at a baseball game.”

  His smile brightened. “It’s good to talk about this. Thanks for letting me. It’s not too often I find someone I can talk to about weddings without having to worry about getting invited to a meeting with florists because I showed a little interest.”

  Elliot choked on an unexpected laugh and attempted to play it off as a cough. Had he forgotten who she was? Why had he even agreed to be set up with a wedding planner? If they dated, the topic of weddings might come up from time to time.

  “But it gets worse. Even after you oblige your friends and listen to them go on and on about their wedding, you’re still out a friendship,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once they say, ‘I do,’ your friendship is never the same.” He shook his head. “Your relationship will always be less important than the one they have with their spouse. And unless you’re in a couple, you’ll be invited to fewer dinners and parties. They figure they’re doing you a favor—not making you the odd man out. But they’re killing your friendship.”

  He sipped his latte. “What’s the point of making more friends? You’ll have to go through the same cycle again when they get married.”

  A thud drew her attention to the ground where she’d dropped her cup. Swooping to pick it up, she frantically searched her purse for napkins to clean up the mess. By the time she found an extra pack of wet wipes, Harvey had already taken care of the puddle of tea.

  “Sorry,” she murmured to Ben who had knelt down to help. “It’s green tea, so I hope it won’t upset his stomach.”

  “He’ll be fine.” She met his gaze and detected the concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m a total klutz sometimes.” She couldn’t tell him the truth. She wouldn’t tell him his words had struck a nerve she hadn’t realized existed. Part of her wanted to defend her brides. To tell him the friendships she made with each of her clients lasted. Didn’t the amount of Christmas cards she received every year prove she had friends? But what was a card, or the occasional phone call, when you spent most of your life alone?

  He was right. What was the point of wasting a stamp to carry on a correspondence when you never spent time with each other?

  Drawing a breath, she reached up to take the hand he’d offered. As she got to her feet, she heard someone call her name. She turned and froze as Heloise stepped toward her, walking arm-in-arm with Eric. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

  “How fun to run into you outside of your little office,” Heloise gushed, leaning forward to kiss each of Elliot’s flushed cheeks. She relooped her arm through Eric’s and placed a possessive hand on his bicep. Elliot’s eyes narrowed.

  On the dance floor, she’d discovered how fit those ar
ms had become. The scrawny computer nerd of the past was gone. In addition to amassing a huge fortune and empire, he’d apparently discovered weight lifting in Silicon Valley. She’d never minded his old form, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate the definition in his broad shoulders.

  Eric’s gaze, she discovered, was settled squarely on Ben. Following the direction of her date’s view, Heloise shifted her focus, too. She should make introductions. While she wanted nothing more than for the pair to wander off to wherever they’d been headed before, good manners would always win out.

  “Ben, I’d like you to meet Heloise. We grew up together,” she said. “This is Eric Warner. I’m planning his sister’s wedding. Eric and Heloise, this is my friend Ben Wick.”

  Recognition lit both Heloise and Ben’s eyes almost simultaneously. Heloise was faster to speak. “You’re Ben Wick? My mom went to school with your mother.”

  Trust Heloise to recognize a fellow silver spoon-fed person anywhere. She never seemed to be without a connection, either. This one was more closely related, and plausible, than the time she’d practically assaulted Stephen Colbert at a restaurant, insisting her piano teacher was his aunt’s best friend’s dog walker’s cousin.

  “How interesting,” he said, but his attention remained on Eric. “Are you the Eric Warner? Creator of the Cav?”

  “I am,” Eric answered, showing little emotion.

  “I love your website and app,” Ben said. “I use them every day.”

  He pulled out his iPhone, flicked his finger a few times, and presented the screen. Sure enough, the Cav appeared in all its glory.

  “I’m glad you like them,” Eric said.

  “I also caught one of your lectures while I was living in San Francisco. Brilliant stuff.”

  Eric murmured his gratitude and turned his gaze to Elliot. She caught a flicker of irritation before he replaced it with his mask of indifference. What was that about? Perhaps he was mad about having to acknowledge her outside of a professional setting. No other possible explanation made sense.