Rachel Gibson: Any Man of Mine

“And on time,” Ty added, who’d never made an effort to hide his desire for a very small wedding. But like most grooms, he’d caved to the desires of the bride.

“You’re welcome.” She looked at her watch. “In about five minutes, Shiloh will invite everyone to meet you in the Rainier Room.”

“Could you do it now?” Ty asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.

“Not everyone is through eating,” Faith protested.

“I don’t care. You’re tired.”

“You can’t expect everyone to just get up and leave.”

“Mention the open bar,” Ty suggested to Autumn. “They’ll trample over each other to get to the free liquor.”

Autumn laughed as she rose. She buzzed her assistant and told her to mention the open bar when she invited the guests to join Faith and Ty in the other room. As she moved from behind the bride and groom’s table, her gaze landed on Sam, where he sat charming the pants, or more appropriately, the thongs, off the Playmates. They laughed and touched his shoulder and looked at him like he was a god.

There had been a time when the sight of Sam with a beautiful woman or two would have carved out her heart. When she would have wanted to curl into a ball, but those days were long past. He could do what he wanted. As long as he didn’t do it in front of her son. Which she suspected he did because he was an irresponsible horn dog with jock itch on the brain.

She moved from the room as Shiloh picked up the microphone and made the announcement. She checked and rechecked her list. The cake was ready to be cut, the band ready to play, and the two bartenders ready to sling drinks. She had a few moments and ducked into the ladies’ room. As she washed her hands, she looked at her face in the soft lighting. Growing up, she’d hated her red hair and green eyes. All that color against her pale skin had been too much, but she liked it now. She’d grown into her looks, and she liked the woman she’d become. She was thirty years old, had an event-planning business that allowed her to pay her bills and raise her son. The child support she got from Sam more than covered the expense of raising a child. It allowed her to pay cash for her home and vehicles and take vacations. But at the same time, she knew that if she had to, she was financially able to take care of Conner on her own.

She dried her hands and opened the door. The economy always affected her business, which was why she’d expanded it to encompass a variety of events instead of just limiting herself to weddings. She was currently planning a Willy Wonka birthday party for twenty ten-year-olds for next month. Getting all the props and vendors for the party had been a challenge, but fun. Not as much fun as weddings. Planning weddings was what she loved best, ironic given her past.

She moved down the hall through clumps of wedding guests making their way to the Rainier Room. There were a lot of beautiful and wealthy people at that night’s event. There was nothing wrong with that. Autumn made her living catering to beautiful, wealthy people, as well as those on tight budgets. She enjoyed both, and as she knew all too well, wealthier didn’t always mean easier. Or that the bill was paid on time.

As she passed Sam, he separated himself from a group of his teammates and a few of the Playmates.

“Autumn. Do you have a minute?”

She stopped a few feet in front of him. “No. I’ve got thirty seconds.” They had a son, but she couldn’t imagine what they had to talk about. “What do you need?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but the cell phone clipped to her belt rang, and she held up one finger. There was only one person in her phone with that “Anchors Aweigh” ring tone, her brother, Vince. And Vince wouldn’t call unless there was a problem.

“Hey, Carly just phoned,” he said. “She’s sick and can’t watch Conner. I have to be at work in half an hour.”

It was still too early for Autumn to leave. She moved to a quieter spot in the hall and said, “I’ll call Tara.”

“I did. She didn’t answer.”

Autumn ran through a metal list of options. “I’ll call his day care and see if they’ll take him… Crap, they closed a few hours ago.”

“What about Dina?”

“Dina moved.”

“I guess I can call in sick.”

“No.” Vince had only had this latest job a week. “I’ll think of something.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. Sitter problems were difficult for every single mother. The odd hours of an event planner turned those hours into a nightmare. “I don’t know. I guess you’re going to have to bring Conner here, and I’ll have one of my workers entertain him for a few hours.”

“I’ll get him.”

Autumn looked up over her shoulder. She’d forgotten about Sam. “Hang on.” She lowered the phone. “What?”

“I’ll get Conner.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

He frowned. “Obviously, I’ll have Natalie pick him up.”

Natalie. The “personal assistant.” Autumn didn’t have anything against Sam’s latest “assistant” other than she thought it was ridiculous that he called his girlfriends “assistants.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Is this really something to fight about?”

Conner could either go to his dad’s with the “assistant,” a place he knew, or he could come to the Rainier Club and hang out until she could take him home. On the surface, the decision appeared to be a no-brainer, but she liked Conner with her at night. She slept better knowing he slept safe and sound in the room across from hers.

“Forget it.” He shook his head and turned away.

But being a good parent wasn’t always about her. She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait.” His blue eyes met hers, and, through the wool blazer, his body heat warmed her palm. His biceps turned hard beneath her touch, and she dropped her hand. There had been a time when the heat would have leaped to her chest and burned her up. These days, she was immune and returned the phone to her mouth. “Sam’s going to take him.”

“What’s that idiot doing there?”

She bit the side of her lip to keep from smiling. “He’s at the wedding.”

“Tell Vince hi,” Sam said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He pushed a few numbers, then spoke into the receiver. “Hey, Nat. I know it’s your night off, but can you go pick up Conner for me?” He smiled and gave Autumn a thumbs-up. “Yeah, just take him to my place. I should be there in a couple of hours.”

Autumn hung up her phone and looked down as she hooked it to her belt. “Thanks, Sam.”

“What?”

She looked up at the smile on Sam’s face. “You heard me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I did. It’s just been a while since you’ve had a nice word for me.”

With Sam, it had never been so much what he said as they way he said it. All oozing with nice-guy charm. Good thing she was immune to him, or she might actually mistake him for a nice guy. “I’ll have Vince pick Conner up in the morning.”

His laugher stopped, and his smile disappeared. “Vince is an idiot.”

Which was a lot like the pot calling the kettle black.

“I’ll have Nat drop him off home.” A few of Sam’s hockey buddies walked down the hall. Handsome, rich, beautiful women on their arms. This was Sam’s life. Beautiful women and designer clothes. Invitations to weddings at the Rainier Club. Adoration and fan worship.

“Thanks again,” she said, and moved around him. She’d been his wife and had given him a son, but she’d never really known him. Never would have fit into his big, over-the-top, life. She didn’t shop at Neiman Marcus or Nordstrom or Saks. She haunted vintage shops, or, when she bought new, she shopped at Old Navy or the Gap or Target.