Almost a Wedding Read online

  Almost a Wedding

  A Left at the Altar Novella

  RUTH CARDELLO

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  website: RuthCardello.com

  email: [email protected]

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  Twitter: RuthieCardello

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  Copyright

  Google Play Edition

  An original work of Ruth Cardello, 2018.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my friends who actually did laugh with me when I called them right after I broke my ankle. The journey back to walking has been a long one, but so much better because you were by my side.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Author Contact

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Author Contact

  Barrett

  When Paul asked me to be his best man, I didn’t think we’d make it this far. He’s zero for three as far as engagements go, but he says he’s serious this time. I didn’t bring a date to the private island ceremony because—it’s a wedding. I want to keep my options open.

  The moment I meet Audrey, the maid of honor, I’m conflicted. She’s recovering from an injury. She needs my help, but what I’d like to do is help her into my bed. Whatever we have, it’s wild and hot as hell—but that doesn’t mean I’m looking for it to continue past this trip. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am to let anyone drag me down—but she has me turned around, and chasing after what I swore I’d never want—a chance at forever.

  Audrey

  I’m still recovering from ankle surgery after a severe break, but I’m the maid of honor and I refuse to let pain stop me from being part my best friend’s wedding. When I overdo it, I retreat to recover and regroup.

  That’s how I meet Barrett. He’s brooding and blunt, but when he picks me up and carries me as if I’m nothing then brings me ice and takes care of me—I’m ready for my first wedding hookup. He is exactly what I need to get my mojo back.

  Being bad never felt so good.

  He says he’s not ready for a relationship and I believe him—after all, his friend just left mine at the altar.

  Where can we possibly go from here?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Barrett

  “It’s perfectly normal to have last minute jitters, right? Closing the door to my single life is a big deal,” Paul Frideman appeals to all of us who put our lives on hold to fly to this private island in the middle of the Caribbean for a week because he swears he’s really doing it—tying the knot, making the leap. Thirty-one years old, three failed engagements. None of us thought he’d make it this far.

  It’s not a good sign that his speech is slurred, and he just ordered another drink. Even though I agreed to be his best man, I did not sign on as his babysitter. “With the right prenup, nothing has to be forever.” No one would call me a romantic, but Paul is floundering. Zeke is married and Gage is engaged. I’m the balancing voice of reason.

  “Real nice. I warned you living in Bachelor Tower would only cultivate the ass in you, Barrett, but you said you could handle it,” Gage joked. “You’ll meet someone someday. The fun will be tossing your own advice back at you.”

  “I hope to hell you do. First of all, living in Bachelor Tower has been good for business. I couldn’t care less about the premise of it. You have no idea how loose some of those guys are with information after a few drinks. Second, by raise of hands, how many of you have a rock solid prenup?”

  Not one hand goes up. I shake my head and down a shot of tequila. “I’m not one for sentimentality, but what do you say we all meet back here in five years? Half of you will be single again, and I believe by then I’ll be the richest man at this table.”

  Paul’s face reddens and he pulls at his tie like it’s choking him. “Isa said she didn’t want one.”

  Holy shit, love does not look good on the man. I want to tell him right then and there to call the wedding off, but I flip my shot glass over and remind myself we all choose our own paths. “Then your only choice is to keep your dick in your pants and your mouth shut.”

  “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think, Barrett?” Zeke says. “If you’d said that to me when I married I probably would have bashed your teeth in.”

  I shrug. I’ve known Zeke almost as long as I’ve known Paul. We’re tight. At least when we see each other, which isn’t often. Life and business have a way of doing that to even the best of friendships. Still, there’s not much we hold back when we’re together. “That’s because you weren’t drunk as all hell lamenting the loss of all that was good in your life.”

  “True enough.” Zeke laughs, tossing a swig of his drink back.

  I shouldn’t give Paul so much shit. He actually looks sad now. Paul is a good guy, but a lifetime of having everything handed to him has made him soft. For him, cash actually does grow on trees—or the rich man’s equivalent—a huge trust fund hidden in Switzerland. Oh . . . and his family’s gold mine in Africa.

  Paul says life is a journey toward learning to love oneself.

  Bullshit.

  Only those born with everything have the luxury of that kind of introspection. For the rest of us, life is an ugly battle for survival. You do what you have to, and you bury how you feel about it in a box in your gut. The only time you open that box is when you need to stuff more shit down in it. Then you move on, grateful for the opportunities presented to you without the weight of how you feel about what you had to do to make them happen.

  Anyone who disagrees has never felt the sting of poverty. I remember the shame of washing in bathrooms of fast-food restaurants because my mother drank the rent money, leaving us, once again, living in our car. She was always kind to me. Always sorry. But that didn’t feed me. I stole what I needed to. I lied to survive. I swore to myself back then I would rise above all that. Whatever it took, I would get to a place where the truth would no longer have any power over me.

  And I have.

  I was eighteen when my mother died. I could have let that loss crush me, but I didn’t. I got into Harvard on fabricated paperwork and financial aid, and I don’t care if that story ever breaks. I’ve taken every opportunity that came my way and built a financial empire with it. I have a hand in everything from media to manufacturing because I will never go back to living in a car. My friends don’t know the details of where I came from, but they know I was rough around the edges when I started at Harvard. I’m a survivor. They could have judged me for it, but they didn’t, and that’s why I’m here. I care about these men.
r />   I hope Paul doesn’t fuck this up. If he’s lucky, his mother already has his ass covered. She’s the type who would re-write her will and put him on an allowance before she let anyone threaten the family’s money. Paul is impulsive and trusting, not a good combination for a man set to inherit billions.

  I regret taking him to this outdoor bar for drinks. I should have known it might bring out the runner in him. If his mother had quit throwing child-bearing-aged socialites at him and pressuring him to continue their family name, we wouldn’t be here at all. Paul needs a little more time before he’s ready for any commitment. Baby steps. Maybe a fish. I wouldn’t even suggest he get a dog at this point.

  Ben Simons, a young entrepreneur who until recently lived in the Bachelor Tower, waves when he sees us and begins to walk over. He has his fiancée, Kylie Fuller on his arm. His hair is windblown like he’s fresh from a day at the beach; she is perfectly groomed and overdressed compared to him. They’re an unexpected couple, like a duck and an eagle, but from what I hear it works. Kylie was the first woman to get an apartment in the male-exclusive Bachelor Tower and it caused a lot of fuss in parts of the building. She sent her sister in like some kind of advance scout. They came, got everyone all riled up, then each snagged an eligible bachelor, and moved to the suburbs. Mildly interesting to hear about once, but none of my business. I don’t care who lives in the building as long as it continues to be a place where powerful people make the kinds of deals they can’t discuss in a boardroom. Fuck anyone who doesn’t think the world works that way.

  Paul stands to shake Ben’s hand. “Ben, I am so glad you’re here. These are my best friends.” He waves at me, Zeke, and Gage. “Guys, this is Ben and Kylie. They used to live in your building, Barrett. You should get together when you go back.”

  Not likely. I don’t like drama and these two have it in spades. I rise to my feet to greet them. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

  “Barrett Natick. How cool is this? I’ve heard a lot about you and now I finally get to meet you. Weddings are such a great way to meet people, aren’t they?” Ben shakes my hand with the enthusiasm of a Labrador retriever.

  “Absolutely.” I’m being nice because he seems sincere. It’s also best to not bomb a bridge to someone who might be useful in the future. Friends? I have enough. Come into my life now and there’s only one role for you—business associate. I made my friends back when I had nothing. They stood by me when no one else did. People like that don’t happen when you’re successful. The more you have the more people want from you. I pull my hand free and greet his fiancée.

  Her grip is cautious but firm. “We’re getting married soon so it’s nice to experience a wedding while planning one. I’m taking notes. Making lists.”

  “This tip is for Ben.” Paul sways on his feet then plops back down in his seat. “Have as much sex as you can before you seal the deal. Make sure she’s the one.”

  Zeke groans. Gage shakes his head.

  I joke, “And maybe not do so many tequila shots the night before.”

  Rather than being offended, Ben pulls his fiancée to his side and nuzzles her neck. “Paul seems like a wise man. Want to head back?”

  “You know I do.” She looks more flustered than I’d expect a woman like her to be. Love weakens both sexes I guess. “But we promised to find Audrey.”

  It’s such a sweet scene I almost throw up in my mouth.

  Ben meets my gaze. “You’re the best man, Barrett. Think you could locate the maid of honor? Isa’s worried she’s upset about something.”

  “Have you tried her cell phone?” I hate to ask the obvious, but there is a reason computer techs always start by asking if a computer is plugged in. God didn’t evenly distribute intelligence.

  “She’s not answering it.” Ben waves his phone at me like that’s proof.

  Zeke slaps my back. “Barrett would love to help.”

  Paul leans over and asks me, “Why is Audrey upset?”

  “How the hell should I know?” I wave off the waiter who was about to ask us if we wanted another round. “I just got here. I don’t even know what she looks like.”

  “She’s Isa’s best friend from childhood.” Paul places a hand on my shoulder. “Cute, but a little chubby for my taste. Still fuckable because she’s just so adorable.”

  “Wow,” Kylie says in a disgusted voice.

  “He’s joking,” Ben says.

  Gage interjects. “This is how you know it’s time to call it a night. Paul, keep all those deep thoughts in your head.”

  “I didn’t say I would fuck her . . .” Paul whines. “It was meant to be a compliment.”

  “Compliment? I’d hate to hear his insults,” Kylie snarks.

  I rub a hand over my forehead and decide locating the maid of honor might be less of a hassle than trying to get Paul back to his room. “Zeke. Gage. If you can handle Paul, I’ll go find Anna.”

  “Audrey,” Ben corrects me with an easy smile. I don’t like him. I don’t trust anyone who looks that happy. “She’s short, blonde, and in a blue dress.”

  Kylie looks me over critically. “Ben, we should look for her too.”

  I’m a little insulted. This is me on my best behavior. “I’ve got this,” I say as I square my shoulders and say her name as proof that I’m perfectly capable of finding one wayward woman. “Audrey. I’ll find her and make sure she’s okay.”

  Paul struggles to his feet and hugs me. “You’re a good friend, Barrett. I love you.”

  I pat his shoulder. This is my cue to go. “Get some sleep, Paul. Do yourself a favor and don’t talk to anyone on your way back to your room.”

  He hugs me again.

  Zeke and Gage wave me off like I didn’t get the better deal. I’ll find this Audrey, tell her everyone is looking for her, and call it a night.

  They get to tuck Paul in.

  I wave back.

  Good luck.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Audrey

  You’ll be fine, she said.

  You don’t have to do anything but show up, she promised.

  I take a seat beside a large, empty pool then ease one of my flats off. After a long day that involved a lot of walking, my right foot is swollen and pounding. Great. This is what I get for downplaying my journey back to walking.

  Tucking my dress between my legs I prop my foot up on the chair beside me. I lean back into the cushioned chair and close my eyes. I should have told Isa I wasn’t 100 percent yet, but I felt bad enough that I hadn’t been there for everything that led up to the wedding.

  Isa and I could have let our friendship fade away when she moved to Boston after graduating from high school, but we had sworn we wouldn’t. We carved out time to talk on the phone each week, and even though I have only seen her a few times in last couple of years, she’s still firmly placed in my heart.

  Ten months ago when she asked me to be her maid of honor, I hesitated. Isa lives a much different life than I do. Her social media feed is full of photos of her traveling to exciting places and partying with people I only know from television. If I didn’t love her, it would be easy to envy her. She’s gorgeous, naturally thin, and marrying into a family who could probably afford to buy the island we’re on.

  I, on the other hand, am a very single freelance graphic designer with a degree in communications and enough college debt to wish someone had told me I didn’t need a four-year degree to do what I do. I’m not complaining. I make enough money to live on my own, drive a leased car, and help my brother Joe pay for his schooling. He’s studying to be a doctor and that does require a formal education—a lot of it.

  Joe warned me I might still be in pain at month four, but I knew how much it would mean to Isa for me to be at her wedding. When I fractured my ankle she was the first one to send me a warm nightie and a hospital themed teddy bear. She reassured me when I was scared and waiting for the surgery. When I was on drugs, she was the one who laughed with me at midnight when I couldn’t sleep a
nd shouldn’t have been texting anyone.

  She’s a good friend, and I thought I could muster through this. I didn’t expect my body to betray me the way it is. I’m angry and disappointed in myself. I’ve done everything I was supposed to. I followed every one of the orthopedic surgeon’s orders. I faithfully went to physical therapy. I wouldn’t have come or I would have backed out of being the maid of honor had I known I would still be struggling. Isa is so happy. The weekend is picture perfect.

  And me? I can’t even fit into the dress I’m supposed to wear tomorrow. I should have had it shipped to me after the final fitting. I should have tried it on back in the States. I didn’t know that while one of my legs was wasting away inside a cast, my waist would decide to expand.

  Beating myself up over it, though, doesn’t change that Isa’s expecting to see me in that dress tomorrow. I’ll figure out something, but I need a moment to clear my head first. When I tense up, my leg muscles do as well, and it hurts in a way I’m told will pass in time.

  I don’t want to be upset. I don’t want to be in pain. I want to be the happy maid of honor Isa expects and deserves. I will be that version of myself—after a brief pity party.

  “Are you okay?” a deep male voice asks, and I bolt upright.

  Standing over me is a dark-haired, dark-eyed, serious looking man in a suit. My first thought is he must be one of Paul’s security. If I were Paul I wouldn’t hire anyone this attractive. He belongs in every bodyguard romance I’ve ever read. Oh, yes, he is welcome to protect me any way he sees fit.

  “Audrey?”

  “Yes.” He knows my name? I guess it makes sense he’d know everyone’s name.

  He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Isa is looking for you.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I thought I had left without anyone noticing. If I upset Isa the night before her wedding I will never forgive myself. I move to stand and almost fall when the leg I forget is on the other chair gets hooked on it.