Reed went rigid.
No, no, no. Not here. Not now. Not while he was with Cecily. But will alone couldn’t hold back the sudden wash of old resentments, shame, and defensiveness that went along with Annelise Arrington Stanton. He hadn’t seen her since she’d dumped him, and he’d been fool enough to think he never would again. But he knew perfectly well that Mississippi was one big small town.
Cecily laid a hand on his arm. “Reed?” She followed his gaze to Annelise and frowned.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please take your seats.”
“C’mon. Let’s sit,” he said.
Introductions were made and the author took his place behind the podium, greeting the crowd, making a bit of small talk before getting started. The audience sat hushed and on the edge of their seats, listening as Mississippi author Greg Iles read from his latest book. Reed didn’t hear a word.
Why the hell couldn’t he shake this?
Cecily’s fingers laced with his and squeezed. He met her clear gray eyes. The roaring in his head stopped and the band around his chest loosened. Her mouth kicked into a half smile, her expression asking, Okay? Reed laid his free hand over hers and held on the rest of the reading.
As everyone rose around them to queue up for autographs, Cecily leaned over. “Do you want to stick around or shall we try to beat the crowd to dinner?”
She was giving him an out. But that would be giving Annelise too much importance.
“Let’s stick. You still have that pile of books to buy, and you wanted to get one signed. Plus, I should introduce myself as a bookseller.” Reed pressed a hand to the small of her back, steering her toward the line that snaked back from the signing table.
“Reed?”
For just a moment, he froze, hand flexing against Cecily’s back. Time to face the inevitable.
“Reed! It’s so good to see you!”
As he turned toward his ex-girlfriend, he hoped he managed to fix his expression in something more polite than a grimace. “Annelise.”
She looked a little more polished than she had in college, a little more mature. Her blonde hair was swept up in one of those careless looking updos that he knew perfectly well took her an hour to achieve. Pretentious Playboy was with her, looking self-assured and generally bored with the proceedings. Annelise’s smile had a shark-like quality as she crossed over.
Had she been like that in college?
Cecily neatly stepped into Reed’s side, sliding one arm around his waist, and Annelise’s smile faltered just a little. Reed could’ve kissed her right then and there. Instead, he wrapped a comfortable arm around Cecily’s shoulders and offered a more genuine smile.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Nick and I came up for the game.” Annelise tucked her arm through her husband’s. “Reed, this is my husband Nick Stanton. Nick, this is Reed Campbell. He works at a little bookstore down in Wishful.” She shot a glance in his direction. “Or are you doing something else now?”
Reed fought the urge to grind his teeth as he shook the other man’s hand with rather more force than absolutely necessary. “I own the bookstore, actually.”
“Good for you.” If Annelise had any more faux sweetness in her tone, they could all drown in honey.
And he’d thought he wanted to marry this woman? Christ. Who knew she’d saved him from a fate worse than death.
Reed looked down at Cecily, “Honey, this is—”
“Oh, you must be Annelise.” Cecily beamed and extended her left hand toward his ex. “Reed’s told me so much about you.” Reed couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but something in Cecily’s manner had shifted subtly, become more…regal, somehow. And suddenly he was looking at the heiress she actually was.
Annelise hesitated, eyes clearly drawn to the big honking ring glittering in the overhead lights. Where the hell had that come from? Seeming to collect herself, she shook Cecily’s hand.
“I’m just so pleased to meet you. And you, Nick.” Cecily shook his hand, too, before returning to a proprietary hold on Reed’s arm. “Stanton. You wouldn’t happen to be related to the Kenilworth Stantons, would you? I mean, not that I know them well since they’re based in Chicago, and my family’s in Greenwich, but they’re just down the road from our summer house in the Hamptons.” She tipped her face up to his, and Reed saw her eyes sparkle. “Remember, sweetie. It was that cute little place without a gatehouse?” Her tone was as sweet and polite as could be, while still very clearly conveying how vastly below her experience this alleged house was.
“I, uh, don’t believe so,” Nick said. “And you are?”
“Oh, silly me. Where are my manners?” She leveled the pair of them with a superior smile that made the cat look like an amateur. “I’m Cecily Davenport Dixon.”
Chapter 6