Caroline met her gaze evenly. “Yes.”
Delaney sagged against the desk, the shock surprising her, even though she’d expected the answer.
Ethan Van Owen.
Her former fiancé.
The man she’d driven away after her father’s scandalous arrest and sudden death.
She’d always been close to her father, so his death had broken her heart. Ending her engagement to Ethan had destroyed her. The scene had been ugly. He insisted on protecting her, offering his name, his family, his money to her and her family, or what remained of her family. She’d been so tempted. It would have been so easy to let him take care of everything. But the impact on him and his family’s investment business would have destroyed him. Her life had been irrevocably changed, but his didn’t need to be.
So, she had let him go, driven him away, really. Not that it mattered. He’d left Houston shortly after the broken engagement, and she hadn’t seen him since.
That was all going to change next week.
Thoughts of Ethan twisted in her gut, conflicting emotions and fears. Did he still hate her? Was he with someone else? The last thought stabbed her in the heart. It had been five years, but she had never forgotten him. Now she had a chance to make things right, to apologize and hopefully get his forgiveness. Then she could move on with her life. She only hoped she could hold back her emotions. No good could come of a renewed romance between them.
Tell her hormones that. They kicked into overdrive at the thought of spending a week on a beautiful island getaway with the one man who could make her blood sizzle with just a look.
Caroline studied Delaney with a shrewd gaze, seeming to miss nothing. But Caroline didn’t say anything, leaving Delaney in her own maelstrom of emotion.
Caroline bent down to pick up her bag. “Now, I’ll see you Sunday. Oh, by the way, we didn’t get a chance to have a bachelorette party. I thought we could do something fun one night on the island. Would you think about it? Look at the itinerary and talk to the other girls. Their contact information is in the packet.” Caroline laughed. “I’ve missed you so much.” Impulsively, she hugged Delaney. “Now, make sure you’re ready for this. Don’t make me turn into Bridezilla.”
Delaney swallowed, trying to make words come out. Finally, she croaked, “You could never be Bridezilla. It’s not in you.”
After one last hug, Caroline headed for the door. Before leaving, she paused, turned and looked at Delaney, her expression sober. “Delaney, I know how hard this is going to be. You mean a lot to me. And not just because we’ve been friends since elementary school. You’re almost like a sister to me, and it really hurt when you cut me out of your life. It’s important to me that you’re by my side at my wedding. I’m hoping we can rekindle our closeness.”
And she swept out of the room, leaving a firestorm of guilt and regret in her wake. Delaney buried her head in her hands, remembering a different time when she’d said goodbye to Caroline, Ethan, and her friends. It was five years later, and the feelings were the same—an empty, gaping wound in her stomach. She reached for the antacids.
Dammit. Why couldn’t Caroline have left her alone?
* * *
Delaney sank into her chair and opened the folder that Caroline had given her. What bride had time to coordinate events for her bridesmaids? What bride planned a college reunion the week of her wedding? Of course, what bride chose a disgraced ex-friend as a maid of honor? Same answer to all three—Caroline Masters, a woman who gave new meaning to the word stubborn.
Delaney began leafing through the events for the week. Mani-ped. Bridesmaids’ dinner. Dress fittings. All standard fare. She glanced down at her nails, smooth and rounded, but having not seen a manicurist in years. A little luxury she had not been able to afford in a long time. God, it would feel so great to have a mani-pedi.
Her dreams were so small, it made her sad.
A few events piqued her interest. A scavenger hunt? A bonfire? What the hell kind of events were they for a pre-wedding reunion? Well, at least she knew how to dress this time. Not that she had a lot of clothes to choose from. Her closet was positively anemic without her steady diet of shopping.
She started at the sudden knock on the door. One of the docents, Natalie, stood at the door. Natalie was one of the first friends Delaney had made at the museum. One of the few docents, of all the staff really, who took her reduced circumstances in stride. Natalie didn’t care if she had once been one of the rich bitches wandering around the events the museum held. Didn’t mind that she had once served Delaney wine and hors d’oeuvres. No, Natalie was indefatigably cheerful and welcoming to all people. A motherly figure, Natalie had adopted Delaney almost as a granddaughter, giving Delaney the family support she had lost since her father’s death and her mother’s breakdown. Natalie knew the whole story of the wedding, and she’d get a laugh out of the latest turn of events.
Delaney waved her toward the chair. Natalie bit her lower lip and glanced over at the clock. “Did he call yet?”
Delaney shook her head, pressing her lips together and trying to maintain a calm façade. “He still has thirty minutes. Not that he’s ever on time.”
Natalie glanced down and away, still tugging on her lower lip. Delaney waited, expecting Natalie to say something.
When she didn’t, Delaney’s stomach lurched and bile rose in her throat. “What have you heard? Please tell me before I hear from Benson.”
At that moment, the phone rang, and both women jumped. Their eyes darted to the phone and then met. Dread gathered in Delaney’s stomach, rolling low in her gut. Thank goodness she hadn’t had breakfast that morning or drunk that second cup of coffee.
She picked up the phone. “Delaney Winters.”
“Ms. Winters. My office. I have a luncheon appointment in ten minutes.” Benson’s voice shot out of the phone like a cannon. He always had the ability to make her, and every other employee, nervous.
Before she could reply, he hung up, the dial tone echoing in her ear.