Page 49

The next two weeks passed in a blur of frustration and planning.

Despite me ending the bet, the wedding was still on.

The bride still very much absent, but I fully intended to change that.

True to Devonna’s word, Anica was completely unavailable.

My calls went to voicemail. My texts received polite, professional responses, always signed “A. Marcel” rather than just “Anica.”

When I stopped by her office unannounced, Mari intercepted me in the reception area with a sympathetic but firm redirection.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I say this as someone who once made a detailed PowerPoint presentation entitled ‘Why Callan Burkhardt Should Rail Me Against A Wall.’ You need to respect her boundaries right now.”

“I just want to talk to her,” I insisted.

“And she just wants to not have her heart broken again by a man who publicly declared that love is a fictional construct,” Mari countered. “Funny how we don’t always get what we want.”

I winced. “She told you what happened.”

“In excruciating detail. Over several bottles of wine and at least one pint of ice cream eaten directly from the container. It was not pretty.”

The image of Anica upset made something twist painfully in my chest. “I need to explain.”

“What you need,” Mari said, not unkindly, “is to give her space. She’s not just angry, Cal. She’s hurt. Deeply hurt. And showing up here unannounced isn’t helping.”

“Then what will help?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. “Tell me what to do, Mari. How do I fix this? I need to fix this.”

She studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

“More than I know how to handle.”

Mari sighed, then glanced over my shoulder and gestured for me to follow her into a small conference room. Once the door was closed, she turned to face me.

“Look, I’m going to help you, but only because I believe you genuinely care about her and aren’t just trying to salve your wounded ego.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned, echoing Gram’s earlier caution.

“If you hurt her again, I will personally ensure that every wedding vendor in the tri-state area knows exactly how to make your life miserable. I’m talking flower arrangements that induce sneezing fits, photographers who only capture your bad side, and DJs who mysteriously only play the Macarena when you’re in the room. ”

“Noted,” I said, trying not to smile at her fierce but very strange loyalty. “So what do I do?”

“First, you respect the professional boundaries she’s established. The wedding planning continues with Devonna as your point of contact. If Anica wants to be directly involved, she will be. That’s her choice.”

I nodded, though it pained me to think of continuing the wedding charade when the only woman I wanted was currently refusing to speak to me.

“Second, you figure out what you actually want. Not what your friends want, or what your business interests dictate, or what your parents’ screwed-up marriage taught you to expect. What do you, Callan Burkhardt, actually want?”

It was the same question Gram had posed, and it deserved the same careful consideration.

“And third,” Mari continued, “when you have an answer to that question, you show her. Don’t tell her—show her. Anica has had enough experience with men who broke her trust and her heart. The Douche Who Shall Not Be Named was–”

“Austin? Ow!” I rubbed my shoulder where she punched me in the arm. “You two are violent.”

“I said he wasn’t to be named, asshole.” Mari shook out her hand, eyeing my arm.

“What do you have under there? Steel plating? Shit, that hurt.” She wrinkled her nose, refocusing on my face.

“Anyways. Like I was saying the Dickhead with the microdick was really good at words. He tried to gaslight her into getting back with her after he fucked that client. She nearly did. Thankfully, I’m a good friend and didn’t let her, and he ended up sleeping with a different woman while trying to win Anica back. ”

“What a douche.”

“Exactly.” Mari nodded once. “My point is, he broke her trust. And her heart. And her faith in men. You had started to fix that until this little fuck up.”

I ran my hand through my hair and started to pace the room. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her.” Facing Mari, I shoved my hands in my pockets and planted my feet. “I’m serious, Mari. You have to believe me.”

She gave me a once over. “You need to take action. Words won’t mean shit.”

“Action,” I repeated, an idea beginning to form. “I can do action. But I might need help.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Anica can’t know, though.”

“I agree,” I said, nodding. “At least for now.”

“Good, now get out before Devonna realizes I’m helping you and puts laxatives in my coffee.”

“She wouldn’t really?—”

“Try me,” Devonna’s voice came from the doorway, making both of us jump. She stood there with her tablet clutched to her chest and a terrifyingly pleasant smile on her face. “Mr. Burkhardt, how lovely to see you in person.”

“Devonna,” Mari said with a warning look. “Callan and I were just?—”

“Conspiring?” Devonna suggested, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Plotting? Attempting to circumvent my very explicit instructions to keep him away from Ms. Marcel?”

“Something like that,” I admitted, deciding honesty might be my best approach. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Devonna stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind her. “Enlighten me then, Mr. Burkhardt. What exactly are your reasons for lurking in our conference room with Ms. Landry?”

“I want to fix things with Anica. And I need your help to do it.”

Devonna laughed, but the sound wasn’t exactly reassuring. “That’s rich. I thought love didn’t exist to you. Why would you possibly care about fixing things with Ms. Marcel when she was just a ‘good time’?”

“She really did tell you two everything, didn’t she?” I glanced between the two women.

“Everything,” Devonna said, nodding once. “So take your big ass ego and your even bigger dick, and get out of the office. She doesn’t want to see you.”

“D, he–”

“No, Mari. He hurt her.” Devonna shook her head. “He doesn’t get to waltz back into her life.”

Sighing, I leaned against the table. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve much worse,” she countered, but I noticed she hadn’t immediately thrown me out, which I took as a positive sign.

“Look,” I said, running my hand down my cheek. I really needed to shave. “I know I fucked up. Monumentally. The bet was stupid and cruel, and I regret ever making it. I called it off when I realized I’d hurt her.”

“The bet was stupid, but what concerns me more is how easily you cheapened what you had with Anica because you were scared to be anything more than a playboy.”

“You’re right.” I shrugged. “I was scared. In fact, it still terrifies me even now that I could ever feel this way about another person. But…I…I do. And that’s exactly why I need to make this right. Not for my ego, not for the wedding or the stupid ass bet, but for her.”

Devonna studied me. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I need help. I need the wedding at the Rhodes Estate to still happen. Same date, same arrangements, but with some... adjustments.”

“Who are you marrying?” Mari asked, leaning forward. “You just said you wanted to win back Anica. How the fuck do you expect us to help you if you’re going to–oh… I get it. Never mind.”

“What kind of adjustments?” Devonna rolled her eyes at Mari. “Why do you need our help?

“I’m not a wedding planner. And I need to make some adjustments to show I’m not all words.” I replied, glancing between the two of them. “Look, I know you both care about Anica. You want to protect her from being hurt again. But I’m not Austin.”

“Don’t say that name in this office,” both women snapped in unison.

“Sorry.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not That Guy. I didn’t cheat on her. I would never cheat on her. I just need to show her how sorry I am and that she’s the one I want to be with.”

Mari and Devonna exchanged a look.

“He does have that desperate, love-sick puppy vibe. Especially with the scruff,” Mari observed. “It’s actually kind of pathetic. In a sweet way.”

“Hmm,” Devonna tapped her finger against her tablet. “And he did come all the way here just to get verbally eviscerated by us.”

“I’m standing right here,” I reminded them.

“Shh,” Devonna said without looking at me. “The adults are talking.”

After another moment of silent communication, Devonna turned to face me fully. “If we agree to help you, you need to understand that this isn’t a guaranteed success. Anica may still tell you to take a flying leap off the Empire State Building.”

“I understand. But I have to try.”

“And why, exactly, should we help you?” Devonna asked, crossing her arms. “Give me one good reason that doesn’t involve your bank account.”

“Or the big ass python you’re hiding in your pants,” Mari added, eyeing me. “Yes. She told us about that too.”

“God, you’re weird,” I muttered under my breath.

“Not helping, rich boy.”

I thought for a moment, wanting to give them the most honest answer possible. “Because I…I love her,” I said finally. “Shit. I do. I fucking love her. And I think—I hope—she might love me too. Even if she currently wants to strangle me with my own tie.”

“That’s a good reason,” Devonna said, some of the bite from earlier disappearing as she looked me up and down.

“So you’ll help?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Against my better judgment,” she sighed. “But if this blows up, I’m going to have my cousins dismember you piece by piece and dissolve the rest of you in barrels of acid.”

My eyebrows shot up. “That is… way more dark than Mari’s threats.”

Next to her, Mari looked at Devonna with a wide grin. “He’s right. I like it. Let’s go with your option if he fucks this up again.”

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “You guys are terrifying.”