The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
there’s doctors involved.”
I cupped my head and wailed. “So, she is filing the suit against me, or they both are?”
“It doesn’t say. Maybe you could call the fiancé, and find out? He could probably convince her to drop the charges if he wanted to.”
Light rain sprinkled. “I don’t have his number. Some stalker I am – allegedly. God…” I ran a hand over my face. “This couldn’t come at a worse time.”
“I’ve got his number. There’s ways and means, if you know how… well, OK, I just opened up the database with their file, but I’ll text it to you.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Say you’re sorry, you meant no harm. Mention you’re practically living in the wilderness and they won’t hear a peep out of you. And also say they can sue you but all you own is a rundown old lodge – no, say cabin, in said wilderness. They don’t need to know the grand scale of Cedarwood. And I doubt they’ll check.”
I let out a half-wail, half-groan. “OK.”
“Report back.”
“Will do, love you.”
“Kisses.”
My phone pinged with a message containing the groom’s number. Johnny was a ridiculously famous actor. Older now, but still working sporadically, and popular despite his provocative not-so-private life. I’d spoken to him briefly at one of the planning meetings, and then woefully on the wedding night to tell him she’d gone.
Would he hold a grudge? Why wouldn’t he! Run, I’d told his fiancée, run!
I dialed, hoping it would go to voicemail and I’d be given a stay of execution. And really, I hadn’t prepared anything to say.
“Yeah?” A husky male voice answered.
“Johnny?”
“Do you know what time it is?” he grunted.
Celebrities and their beauty sleep! “I do, I’m sorry.”
“If this is about the fireworks, it wasn’t me.”
Fireworks? “No, it’s not about that. It’s Clio. Your… wedding planner,” I said, my toes curling.
“Oh. You.”
The disdain in his voice was apparent.
“It’s me. I’m so sorry to have woken you. But you see, this whole… saga, well I wanted to discuss it with you. I know I made a mistake, a huge mistake, but I was working off the information given to me at the time.”
“You told my fiancée to run. To go marry some other guy!”
“Well, yes, and I can see how that might come across…”
“Come across? You can see, can you? I’m a laughing stock!”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I thought… she told me she loved someone else. So the romantic in me, the normal sane person in me, thought fleeing was the only option. You wouldn’t want to have married someone who didn’t love you, surely?”
“None of them love me. They love the idea of me.”
I reared back. “And that’s enough?” Alarm bells clanged in my head – I was doing it again, saying things I shouldn’t. But settling for someone who clearly didn’t love you? It was outrageous.
“Listen here, I don’t know why you think it’s OK to call me after what you’ve done – you’re either courageous or really, really stupid. But I think we’ve covered all we need to, unless there was anything else? One last piece of advice?” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
Why did I not just focus on the matter at hand? Now I’d upset him, and it would do my cause no good. “Flirty… I mean Monica… is threatening to sue me for damages, and I’d hoped you could convince her to drop the charges. I’ve left New York, I don’t have a trust fund, or any real cash…”
He let out a belly laugh. “What’s this got to do with me?”
“Could you call her? Tell her to stop all of this nonsense? I’m not in Manhattan, and I won’t be back. I’ve lost my job, my life…” My voice broke. Some professional. But what if it did go to court and I lost the lodge?
He softened. “Look, it’s a ploy, OK. You’re an excuse to keep her face in the papers and, as an aside, it’s managed to skyrocket my career again.” He chuckled like it was nothing. “Everyone wants to hire the broken-hearted washed-up movie star. Let it play out, and I promise you things will settle down.”
“You ruined my career, my life, for publicity?” Was he for real?
“I didn’t set out to do that. You told her to run, don’t forget. It’s just a lucky side effect that it’s rekindled a career I thought was virtually over. Anyway, if Monica had stayed our marriage would have lasted until the summer of next year, and that would have been that. It’s the way it works in my world.”
These people lived in a parallel universe, surely? How could that ever be acceptable? “What about real love? Finding someone who genuinely cares for you?”
“That stuff doesn’t actually happen in real life when you’re me.”
I rolled my eyes. Movie stars, honestly. “It actually does, you know. I’ve planned weddings for celebrities just like you who’ve been in love – heart-stopping, can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, love.”
“And you’re the expert, I take it? Have you been in heart-stopping, can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, love recently?”
“Well…”
“Well, what?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” His voice was incredulous. “Yet you dole out advice like you know it all. You’re one of those types who always plays Cupid, yet has never really been in love. Am I right?”
Was I? He had hit a nerve, as the truth of his statement struck me. All I did was focus on other people’s love affairs, but that was my job, my passion… I swallowed hard and said haughtily, “I’ve seen it happen to those around me. And it’s not something you can rush, it has to be the right person…”
“Fairy tales.”
“What you need,” I said, feeling bolder as the conversation went on, “is to find a person who isn’t wowed by your celebrity status. A person who knows your profession is a one-way trip to ego land. A girl who won’t kowtow to you or let you get away with any foolhardy behavior just because you can.” Good advice, whether I was a meddler or not.
He let out a guttural laugh. “Yeah? She sounds peachy. And where would I find a girl like that?”
“Who knows, but isn’t that the fun part? The anticipation?”
“Look, I’ll talk to Monica’s people about the lawsuit, OK? She doesn’t have the money to actually fight you, so I wouldn’t worry. It’s all smoke and mirrors. But keep in touch, yeah?”
Oh, God, he did have a heart! Wait. “I’m not that girl, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Had I given him the wrong impression? What was with the about-face?
He let out a bawdy laugh. “Well, that’s good to know, Clio. Maybe I’ll hire you again one of these days…”
Clutching my phone, I sat on the back porch of the lodge and watched the sun rise. I thought about all the things that had led me here, not just to Cedarwood but to this point in my life. My focus had been on celebrating other people’s love stories, making sure their weddings, anniversary parties, vow renewals went off without a hitch… but in the meantime I’d put my own love life to one side. Would