Jennifer McKenzie - One More Night

He looked into her eyes to see if she was trying to trick him. Mal would be fully capable of letting a fib trip right off her tongue with no body language to indicate anything but the deepest sincerity, but her eyes always gave her away. A combination of fear, shame and a deep pain stared back at him. Owen felt it in his own stomach.

“It’s just...too close.”

Too close because up until earlier this year, Mal had been the engaged Ford sibling, the one who’d be wedding-planning and holding the ceremony on a beach in Aruba in the near future. But when their father had had his heart attack, everything had changed.

It had changed for all of them. Donovan took over running the company, while Owen began to pay more attention to work instead of treating it like a fun place to hang out in the evening for a few hours and collect a paycheck. But Mal had uprooted her life in Aruba and moved back to Vancouver. Sold her stake in the beach restaurant to Travis and come back to work for the family business.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Owen huffed out a breath, putting on a show of being put out because he thought Mal needed it. Needed to feel as though things were normal, that her older brother still found her an annoying pest and loved her anyway. They’d all been careful with Mal over the past few months. Doing their best not to upset her, tiptoeing around the question of what had happened between her and Travis because even when it came up indirectly, she got visibly upset. But that clearly wasn’t working and Owen wasn’t about to dump Travis as a friend without cause. “But this means you owe me.”

“I got you alone time with the wedding planner. Consider yourself paid in full.”

“Not enough.” He crossed his arms over his chest and put on his I’m-older-and-know-better-than-you look. “Tell me what’s going on with Travis.”

Mal’s lips pursed and her glare could have melted plastic. Good thing Owen was immune to it, seeing as she’d been using it on him since they were kids. “Nothing is going on.”

Semantics. Owen recognized her answer for the dodge it was, but he wasn’t about to let her use a loophole to get out of this. “Maybe nothing’s going on now, but something happened earlier. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Mal.”

“Drop it, Owen.” And there was sorrow as well as anger in her gaze. “I’m not discussing it.”

Owen drummed his fingers on his water bottle and then shrugged. “Fine. But if you won’t tell me, then I can’t console you with free alcohol and ice cream.”

Mal’s look was withering. “You think I can’t comp myself?”

Owen shrugged again. “I’m the manager here. They do what I say.”

“And you’d tell them not to serve me?” When he nodded, his sister’s eyes narrowed. Owen was glad to see it. At least she wasn’t going to curl up in a ball or slink away the way she would have done a couple of months earlier. Progress. “You’d starve your only sister?”

“I’d do whatever I had to if I thought it would help.”

Her face softened and she reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “I appreciate it, Owen. But I’m okay.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he nodded agreeably. He preferred compromise to conflict. “All right, then. Tell me what I need to know about this party. I’m sure you have some ideas.”

This time, Mal’s smile reached her eyes. “I’m so glad you asked.”

* * *

OWEN CALLED GRACE Sunday morning. A woman like her would spend her Monday morning returning phone calls in order and he hoped to be one of the first. Perhaps he could convince her to go out with him yet. A business meeting. Over lunch. Totally aboveboard.

He was surprised when she answered.

“Grace Monroe.”

But he recovered quickly. “Grace. It’s Owen Ford.”

“Mr. Ford.” He was pretty sure he heard a sigh in her voice, but it was immediately replaced with cool professionalism. “What can I help you with?”

“A party. I need to plan one.”

There was a brief pause. “You’re aware that I specialize in weddings? But I’m happy to send you the names of some other planners in the city who can help. What kind of budget do you have?”

“It’s not for me. An engagement party for Donovan and Julia.” Owen had attended his fair share of parties over the years. More than his fair share and even hosted some. But a couple of blowouts when he’d been in high school, a kegger in his parents’ backyard before he’d told them that he’d officially dropped out of university and a housewarming when he’d bought his apartment that had turned into forty-eight hours of drinks and debauchery weren’t exactly going to cut it. “I’d like to hire you to help.”

Grace exhaled. Owen heard the slow escape of air. “You’ve already hired me, Mr. Ford. I can certainly add the engagement party to the wedding portfolio.”

“No, it’s a surprise.” Another little gem Mal had informed him of once he’d committed to organizing it. He heard the rustling of paper, imagined Grace flipping through a sheaf of them at her desk. “You aren’t at the office, are you?”

“I’m not sure how that concerns you, but yes, I am.”

Owen glanced at the clock. It was only nine in the morning. On a Sunday. He’d been up for an hour and a half, getting a run in before the day got too warm to be comfortable, but most people would still be lounging in bed or treating the worst of their hangovers at a local breakfast café. And Grace was in her office. What a waste on a beautiful weekend morning. “Listen, why don’t I swing by to pick you up. We’ll go for brunch and discuss.”

There was a short pause. Marshaling her resources no doubt. “That’s not necessary, Mr. Ford. Why don’t you tell me what kind of function you have in mind over the phone and I’ll start putting some ideas together that I can send to you.”

“So that I can feel guilty for making you work the entire Sunday? I won’t allow it.” He had a few hours before he needed to go into work himself and he thought spending it with Grace sounded like a fine idea. Better than his original plan, which was to lie on the couch until it was time to leave. The old Owen would have still been in bed, presumably with a gorgeous woman beside him, but since taking on a more involved role, his late nights out with the beautiful people of the city had come to an end. In truth, he didn’t miss it.

While it had been fun for a while—partying all night, sleeping most of the day and then doing it all over again—eventually it had started to bore him. There were only so many times he could see his picture in the paper under a caption proclaiming him one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, only so many times he could get up after only three hours of sleep and pretend that he couldn’t wait to hit the club that night. He’d done it longer than he’d wanted. Partially because he felt obligated to keep up the guise of the playboy Ford. Unlike Donovan and Mal, who’d finished university and then worked in the family offices putting their education to use, he’d dropped out in the middle of his second year and accepted a job as assistant manager at Elephants only because his parents had explained that he’d be cut off financially otherwise. But he’d done as little as possible those first dozen years.

It had gone on for so long that once he realized he’d changed, he didn’t know how to change his situation. His attempts to convince Donovan to give him more responsibility had been met with a steely stare and refusal. It wasn’t until their father’s heart attack that Donovan had been forced to accept Owen’s help. And though there were times that Owen felt overworked and in dire need of a break, he was happier now. He had a reason to get up in the morning, a sense of pride in his life.