Page 18 of Never Marry the Best Man (Whatever It Takes #4)

Tom

That kiss.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

In the rush to get to the hospital, he’d gone into strategic mode, helping sort out the details and get the job done. Ranney was flustered, and anything he could do to help right her day was his priority.

Another kiss like that was, too.

But for now, the kisses needed to wait, for Ranney had a job to do, and Tom respected that.

Mostly. For now.

Upon arrival at Memorial Hospital, they headed directly for the elevator, pressing the button for Charlie’s floor. When the doors opened, they turned left, then left again at the corner.

“Mom!”

This is what you are exposed to at hospitals, he thought. The entire spectrum of human emotion. Some poor woman is evidently catching sight of her mother in extreme circumstances, perhaps for the first time. It sounds traumatic.

“ Mom! ” Louder now, and closer.

Ranney, walking beside him, looked behind them.

The total stranger who had presumably just found her mother in a hospital bed was now hugging Ranney. He himself was drawn strongly to Ranney–magnetically, even–but this seemed like a lot, even for Americans.

“Nessa?”

“You know her?” he asked, startled, but she didn’t answer him.

“Where have you been? No one has been able to reach you, the whole office is frantic!” the young woman was saying. “They had me come here on my way to Austin. The Freestone Club said you never checked in, and some of the others are missing, too. I’ve been so worried!”

This person was from Ranney’s office, that much he could figure out. Maybe he’d been wrong when he advised her to wait a bit before calling in.

But… Mom ?

Was she pretending to be an immediate family member of a patient in order to gain access to the floor? If so, these people were good . Ruthless, but good.

“Excuse me.” One of those cots-on-wheels was being guided down the hall by two people wearing scrubs. Tom stepped aside.

“Ducky?”

It was Charlie on the cot.

“Chunk? Where are you going?”

“Surgery. Will you wait here for Ani? She’s quite upset. Explain to her what’s happening, will you? Tell her I’m fine. I’ll be back in a few hours. Tell her this won’t affect the wedding plans.”

“Sorry,” said one of the people in scrubs, “we’re on a schedule.” And off they went, Charlie waving weakly with his good hand.

The two women had moved off a little ways, out of the traffic lane, and had their heads together, Ranney talking intently.

The younger woman was typing on her phone with both thumbs and nodding.

Tom noticed that their hair was almost the same color, except Ranney’s shade of blonde was softer, more muted.

Prettier , he thought. Their build was the same, too, willowy but not at all fragile.

“Hello,” he said to the co-worker. “I’m Tom Phillips. I’m Charlie’s cousin.” He touched Ranney’s back with his left hand but she edged away.

“Nessa Martini.” Holding out her hand, she gave him a polite smile, but he could swear she looked him up and down. And not in any appreciative way.

Confused, Tom glanced at Ranney, who had a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. “Is that a common name in Boston?” he asked. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Nessa is my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

Nessa’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, for almost thirty years now,” she said sweetly, but she gave her mother a hard look before turning back to Tom. “So. You stayed behind to… keep an eye on your cousin?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m guessing you had to get some sleep somewhere.” Nessa was still smiling sweetly, but he thought he detected a slight edge to her voice. “It was nice of you to help my mom do her job.”

“Ness?” Ranney broke in. “Should we get back to Nilly and Claire? Now that I’m here at the hospital ”–she practiced using the magic phrase, which made Tom smile–“and Charlie’s in surgery, I finally have time to talk to everyone.”

“I’ll go try to find some real coffee,” Tom offered. “I know Ranney wants black–Nessa, how do you take yours?”

“That’s so thoughtful of you to memorize Mom’s coffee order.” Same sweetness, same edge. “Black for me, too, please. Easy to remember. Like mother, like daughter.”

Unsure where this had gone off the rails, he backed away from them. “Right, then. I’ll meet you back in the room.”

There was a Starbucks on the main floor. Institutional, but still better than the pods in the hotel room.

The hotel room. All he’d wanted to do was lay her down on that huge bed, lock the door, close the curtains again, and make love to her until it was time to go back to Boston. No one in the world, except Achilles, knew where they were.

Screw the bachelor weekend.

On the other hand, was that how he wanted it to be, their first time?

Cheese sandwiches and beer from the snack bar in a budget hotel on a Las Vegas highway?

Absolutely not. Not that that wouldn’t be fun some time, a silly road trip they could take someday, but not the first time. They weren’t teenagers.

Thank God.

Consumed by racing thoughts, he started back toward the elevators, crossing the cavernous hospital lobby.

“Tom? Tom! ” There was a flurry by his side and a small, dark-haired woman with red lips and tropical perfume rushed up and grabbed his elbow. “I am so glad to find you! Where is he? Is he in pain? Are there very good doctors here?”

“Ani!” He leaned down and double-kissed her. “Everything’s fine. He’s in surgery.”

“Surgery! Oh, no, no, no! He had to go without me?”

“I saw him before he went. He said to tell you the wedding will go on as planned.”

“He thinks of me always, he is so wonderful.” She began to cry. “I will take him home to Austin. I will care for him there myself.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom had noticed a very large man in a dark suit standing a few yards behind her. When she moved forward, so did he. When she started to cry, he edged closer.

Tom leaned in and spoke softly into her ear. “Ani, there’s a man behind you–”

“Oh, yes, that is Ignacio! Mami, she does not feel comfortable when I travel alone.”

“Right. Anything can happen.”

"Si . Can we go to Charlie’s room now?”

“Yes, of course. The people that you hired to protect the wedding are there. Wonderful people, by the way, extremely capable.”

“Yes, Ranney–she is my contact, I know she was supposed to be on this trip. She is here?”

“She’s been amazing, hasn’t left Charlie’s side. Taken care of everything. Incredibly dedicated.”

“Really? Charlie didn’t mention that she was with him.” Her look was puzzled.

“Probably the painkillers, poor guy’s been half out of it since the accident. But I’ll tell you, I am very, very impressed.”

“But I thought Jack said he was leaving Charlie here alone.”

“Pretty sure she got here right after Jack left last night. She’s definitely here now, though.”

“I will tell her how grateful I am. She can go on to the Freestone Club now. You and I will handle things here. You’ll stay with us, yes?”

“Oh. Well, if you really need me, of course, but…”

“I am still only his fiancée, for a few more weeks, and I’m not British. You are a member of his family. It could be necessary that you arrange things, yes? His health care is in England, and there could be problems. It is very important that his medical care proceeds smoothly.”

“Absolutely, we can check into that right away, while he’s still in surgery even. They must have a business office for this sort of thing, or Ciara can handle all that. I can give them all the contact information right now, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“My hair?”

“An expression. It means, out of your way. Leave you and Chunk alone together, so he can concentrate on recuperating. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“But…” Ani was becoming visibly upset and Ignacio was looking concerned.

Tom did not want to give Ignacio any cause for concern whatsoever, but neither did he intend to hang around a Las Vegas hospital for the rest of the week while Ranney went on to Idaho by herself.

Charlie was of age, would be lucid in a few hours, and could sign papers with his left hand if absolutely necessary.

And as he wasn’t a head of state, there was no need for a transfer of power. Being 27 th in line for the throne didn’t matter much here.

“Look, Ani–” And then he remembered what’s-her-name. The daughter. “There’s another person here from Wedding Protectors. Let’s get her in on this. After all, you’ve hired them. This is what they do, right? They fix problems.”

By now, they were stepping off the elevator onto Charlie’s floor.

“Yes,” she said doubtfully. “Maybe.”

“Because, as you say, I’m a member of Charlie’s family, and I think I should be at the bachelor weekend in his absence. Substitute host and all that.”

“Almost everyone there is a member of the family. You will be all hosts and no guests,” Ani pointed out, but there was resignation in her voice.

“I understand, Tom. You want to go fishing with them, with the guys, not sit around a hospital with Charlie and me, filling out forms. I will talk to this other person. Maybe she can help.”

When they entered the room, Ranney was standing by the window, talking on her phone.

“I’m sorry, Kari,” she was saying. “It’s just been crazy, one thing after another, and now I’m at the hospital. Charlie–the groom–is in surgery. My plan is to stay here at the hospital, at least until AnaMaria–the bride–arrives. Oh, here she is! Let me call you back… Yes, I promise.. Bye.”

“AnaMaria! I’m Ranney, I met you in Boston. How are you holding up?”

At this sympathetic greeting, Ani fell apart completely.

While she sobbed in Ranney’s arms, Tom set the coffee on the meal tray and Nessa came to collect hers.

Her presence reminded him that for everyone else, it was a regular workday, and he should probably use this enforced break to check in at his own job.

“Would you by any chance have a phone charger that I could borrow?” he asked her.

Handing it over, she said, “You don’t carry one?”

It was unnecessary to add, you incompetent idiot.

“It went on to Idaho on the plane. All my baggage did, actually.”

“When you decided to stay with my mother.”

“I didn’t actually make that decision, it’s more that it got made for me. But it all worked out for the best, didn’t it?” He gestured vaguely at Ani and at Charlie’s empty bed.

“Mmm,” was the noncommittal response, and he moved over to check his phone for signs of life.

Of course he had arranged to be out of the office this week, so there was nothing on his calendar and no one was looking for him, but the news about the Saltzman Prize was bound to be generating some buzz.

Sure enough, when the phone powered up, there were at least a dozen new texts and emails, most starting with, “Congratulations!”

The partners were over the moon, and the firm’s founder had written from London.

T?his was, without a doubt, the most fun he’d ever had checking his work messages.

He wanted desperately to show Ranney, but she was still comforting Ani.

Tissues had been produced and Ani was sipping his coffee.

He could share the messages with Ranney later, on their way to the Freestone.

Sitting on the visitor chair, he began opening the emails, starting with one from Emmet Pryce, the founding partner.

Only the short list had been announced–the winner had not yet been chosen–so, similar to the Academy Award nominations, there was still uncertainty.

Like the Oscars, though, the nomination itself was career-changing.

Dear Tom,

What honor you have brought to Pryce Partners, and how proud we all are of you and your absolutely outstanding work.

We, in turn, are honored to work alongside you.

With that in mind, John, Victoria, and I would like to offer you a partnership position at PP.

When you return from your well-deserved break, please contact my assistant to schedule a meeting to discuss next steps.

Well done! EP

Voice cracking, he said, “Excuse me, Ranney?” but she held up a finger, still listening to Ani.

The next email he read was from the young assistant who’d been assigned to the project. Her name would appear on the credit list, and she was predictably thrilled. Nice.

Next in line, a new one from the Saltzman people. He assumed this would be a request for more information, documentation, administrative and/or logistical details.

He was right.

Dear Tom,

Congratulations again on your selection as a finalist for this year’s Saltzman Prize for American Architecture for your project Prairie Chapel.

We are aware that your MArch degree is from the University of Cambridge, and that you have worked for Pryce Partners in London and Boston since graduation. As we continue our deliberations, we need confirmation that you are now a United States citizen, as stipulated in the terms of the prize.

Supporting documents may be uploaded on our website. Please note that the deadline for submission is in ten days.

Again, congratulations, and best of luck!

Bloody hell.