Kaye Dacus - Stand-In Groom

Throughout the evening, she tried to find a few minutes alone with George but couldn’t seem to find him when he wasn’t surrounded by people or on his way to run an errand for Cliff. She was a bit disconcerted by his inattention but reminded herself he had a job in addition to helping her, and if she knew Cliff, he kept George running at all times.

But tomorrow night… She sighed. Tomorrow night, it would all be over. Cliff and Courtney would be gone on their honeymoon. And she and George…

She couldn’t wait to see what happened then.

Anne watched from a distance as Cliff and Courtney fed each other a piece of the enormous cake Aunt Maggie had labored over for weeks. Cliff had insisted on being at Vue de Ciel when the cake was scheduled to be delivered just so he could see Aunt Maggie. Anne shook her head. She never thought she’d see the day when she’d be happy to witness Cliff Ballantine getting married.

Where was George? She’d only had glimpses of him throughout the evening, and he’d slipped away while Anne arranged the cakecutting. A casual perusal of the warehouse-sized Vue de Ciel ballroom didn’t reveal him.

She’d hoped they’d find a few minutes alone tonight. They needed to discuss the partnership. She wanted a yes or no answer out of him before the end of the night. Every time she’d broached the topic in the last few weeks, he’d come out with one excuse or another about his work visa. She was beginning to feel like he’d decided against it but just couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

Something about the distance that still remained between them kept her from fully trusting him, held her back, made her want to retreat behind her old emotional walls and protect herself. Even talking at length with Meredith about her parents’ death and the expectation she carried with her since then—that everyone who professed to love her would eventually leave or disappoint her—hadn’t helped her put her fear aside.

Working her way around the perimeter of the room, she spoke to guests as she was spoken to, nodding at the service staff who caught her gaze.

As she neared the corridor that led to the kitchen, Major intercepted her.

“We’re running low on caviar,” he divulged in a hushed whisper. “Only half of what we ordered came in, and there is no more to be had in town anywhere—I know because I’ve called every grocer in a hundred-mile radius.”

Anne looked over her shoulder at Cliff and Courtney. Neither of them liked caviar. They’d only put it on the menu because it was expensive and would impress people. “Don’t worry about it. If it’s gone, it’s gone.” She looked down the hall toward the kitchen.

“What are you looking for?” Major looked over his shoulder in the same direction.

“You haven’t seen George in the last few minutes, have you?”

A smile spread across her friend’s face. “I think I saw him headed out onto the observation deck a few minutes ago.” He caught her arm as she turned to go. “Am I going to have to compete with your aunt for the privilege of catering your reception?”

Anne forced a smile. With the way things stood between them now, would there ever be a Hawthorne-Laurence wedding? “I think I can probably put both you and Aunt Maggie to work.” She spun around with a wave and headed for the opposite side of the top floor of Boudreaux Tower. Although the room, with its glass walls and roof, gave a spectacular view of downtown Bonneterre, the observation deck allowed visitors to experience the view unobstructed.

George Laurence wouldn’t leave tonight without discussing their future partnership—whether business or personal.

“I’ve got to wait until the time’s right. If I do this wrong, she’s likely to bolt.” George paced the width of the deck overlooking the twinkling lights of the sleeping city. While he stood at the top of the tallest building in Bonneterre, Louisiana, in the middle of the night, his brother Henry sat in evening rush hour traffic in Sydney, Australia.

“Look, mate. You’ve been in love with this woman since the first time you clapped eyes on her. You’ve spoken of little else since you met her.” Henry paused to yell a few colorful phrases at another driver. He had adapted to his new environs quickly.

“It took me awhile, but I know Anne is the woman God created especially for me.” George sighed and leaned against the waist-high safety wall. “But if I resign my post, I’ll have to return to England for six months and apply for a new visa—I’ll lose my years of residency toward becoming a citizen.”

“So what’s to keep you from just courting her until she’s ready to marry you?” Henry asked.

“Because in two weeks when Mr. and Mrs. Ballantine return from their honeymoon, I’ll be going to New Zealand with him for nearly three months. After that, it’s off to who knows where. I’m afraid she’ll give up on me. I can’t lose her.”

“Listen, Brother, I’m almost to the harbor bridge, and traffic is bad so I need to go. There is one idea that I don’t know if you’ve thought of. You could always marry an American and stay in the country that way. You already have the ring for your Miss Hawthorne, do you not?”

George reached up and felt the slight bulge in the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. “I do.”

“Well…?” Henry prompted.

“What you’re saying is that I should propose to Anne tonight and convince her to marry me in two weeks so that I can stay in the country?” He had a feeling Anne would say yes to his proposal, but would she want to get married that quickly?

“I don’t think you’d have to get married in two weeks. I think if you got engaged and could prove it to the immigration services office, they would probably give you an extension until you do get married. That way, you can resign your post and stay there with her. At the worst, you’d have to go back to England for a few weeks until you’re issued a temporary green card.”

“Marriage to Anne would be the perfect solution.” George paced as he ruminated on the idea. “She’ll have the business partner she longs for, and I’ll get to stay in the country.”

“Oh, and spending the rest of your life with the woman you’re madly in love with doesn’t factor into the equation?”

“Well, there’s that as well.” Anxiety tingled through him. Would she say yes? He took a few moments after the phone call to compose himself, then returned to the ballroom in search of Anne. He had to propose before Courtney left, or the girl would never forgive him.

He didn’t immediately spot Anne in the room, no surprise among seven hundred guests. He stopped a few servers, who said they’d seen her come through recently but weren’t sure in which direction she’d gone.

Courtney gazed adoringly into Cliff’s eyes as they glided about the dance floor. The one area where she’d disagreed with Anne had been music. Anne just couldn’t convince her to have a swing band instead of one that would cover the current hit songs. When he and Anne married, he’d suggest “That’s Amore” or perhaps a more traditional “Someone to Watch over Me” as their first dance. He slipped into the crowd to avoid Cliff’s seeing him.

Anne didn’t seem to be anywhere in the ballroom, so he went down the hall to the massive kitchen.

Major O’Hara greeted him with a wink and a smile. “Anne was just in here looking for you. I sent her out toward the observation deck a few minutes ago.”

“Cheers!” George spun and headed back in the direction he’d come. She’d probably gone out the door on this side of the building. He slipped through the door and looked for the woman who stood head and shoulders above the rest…almost literally. He’d never imagined falling in love with a woman who, when she wore heels, stood the same height as he. Just one of her many beauties.

Finally, he found her on the observation terrace in the far corner near the emergency exit. Perfect. Hidden from the view of those inside, and far from the best views of downtown.

“Anne?”

She didn’t turn.

He stopped beside her, his shoulder touching hers. “I hoped I would find you out here.”

Strange distance filled her gaze when she finally looked at him. She must be exhausted. She hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“I know you’ll be glad when this is all over.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea.”

He leaned against the safety wall, facing her. “You need a long holiday.”

“I can’t. I have a business to run and lots of events already booked.”

She wasn’t making this easy. Just do it. She’s tired. “Anne, I know we haven’t been acquainted long. But I’ve always believed in quality over quantity. I also remember our conversation about marriage and how we both believe that it should be based on mutual respect and admiration.”

Tears filled her eyes.

He smiled and reached for the ring box. Clasping her hand, he dropped to one knee with a flourish, holding the ring box toward her. “Anne Hawthorne, will you marry this man who not only admires and respects you but is madly in love with you?”

The darkness made her expression hard to read. She pulled her hand away and took the ring box. She studied the jewel for a moment, then closed the box and handed it back to him. “No.”

He rose. “No?”

She gestured for him to take the box. When he didn’t reach for it, she grabbed his hand and pressed it into his palm. “No.”

He blocked her retreat, heated embarrassment replacing his earlier thrill. “May I have the honor of an explanation?”

She crossed her arms. Tears glittered in twin trails down her cheeks. “I was a fool to believe…to believe you would ever be honest with me.”