“And in that spirit, I need you to grab that imposter’s wallet and make sure he was telling me the truth about his name. Get his driver’s license and read off his address.”
Megan knew she should get mad at Blair for continuing on in the same vein as last night, but her friend’s declaration of love softened her. She rolled her eyes instead.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Megan Vandemeer. We may be on the phone, but I can still see it.”
Megan laughed. “Do you want me to read off his height and weight while I’m at it?”
“Yeah, that will help me figure out if it’s a fake ID.”
“Blair, you’re not really going to check him out, are you?”
“You bet your ass I am. I thought I made that clear last night. I don’t trust this guy.”
“And what exactly do you think he’s up to?”
“I intend to find out.”
“Blair, let it go.”
“No. Now start reading.”
“I can’t. He went to work with my dad.”
“He what?”
“Calm down. What harm could he possibly do there?”
“Is your father working on anything big? Competing for any big jobs?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Blair. How should I know? I never talk to my father about business. Besides, it’s an engineering firm. You and I spent plenty of time there when we worked for him the summer between our freshman and sophomore years of high school. You know how boring that place is. If anything, Josh deserves a medal for going to work with him.” Then she considered it and glanced at his Thursday schedule. “On second thought, he’s smarter than I’ve given him credit for. He’s gotten out of talking to the photographer and the orchestra director—wait. What? Orchestra?” Megan started flipping through the pages, trying to figure out just how large the orchestra actually was and when it would be playing. There was no way this wedding only cost twenty-five grand. Panic flared up from her gut.
“Oh, my God. You actually like this guy,” Blair said. “I didn’t want to believe it last night, but I can see right through you.”
Megan sucked in her breath, then let it out slowly. “What? Of course I don’t. We were putting on an act.”
“That’s a lie! Your voice rose.” She paused, then softened her tone. “Look, Megs, no one helps a stranger with something this big for nothing. He’s got an agenda. Maybe he wants to get into your pants. You haven’t found out if he’s circumcised yet, have you?”
“No! You know I’m not like that.” Although she would have found out if it had been up to her—something Blair didn’t need to know. Megan flung herself backward onto the bed in frustration, reminding herself that her friend was trying to look out for her. Wouldn’t she be cautious if the roles were reversed? “Look, I’ve been skeptical about his motives, too . . . but there’s just something about him, Blair. Besides, if he wanted to get in my pants, he’s had a couple of opportunities. He slept in my bed with me last night and never once made a move.”
“Maybe so, but I still don’t trust him.”
“Which you’ve made abundantly clear.”
“I’m going to dig up everything I can, address or no address.”
Megan’s back stiffened. “Let it go, Blair. I’m warning you, if you present me with a dossier on him as a wedding gift, I’m never going to speak to you again.”
“Wedding gift? I thought you were breaking up with him!”
“It was a joke. I forgot you lost your sense of humor when you became a divorce attorney.” She took a second to regroup. “Look, we’re breaking up at my mother’s family dinner this evening.” She rolled onto her side and pulled the itinerary out from under her back, then examined the schedule for Thursday night. “Although it looks like it’s for Dad’s side of the family.” Megan read the document again. “It so weird that she would plan a party for them. Knickers can’t stand them.”
“Who knows with her. And don’t try to change the subject. Let me do this, Megan. This is what I do. I’m very good at it.”
“Drop it. It won’t matter tomorrow anyway. Very soon I’ll be on a plane back to Seattle—disowned and disgraced. I’m sure it won’t make the slightest difference to my mother who’s at fault in the breakup.”
“Then why go through this farce?”
“Just like hell has multiple levels, so does disgrace.”
“Well, if Josh McMillan is screwing you over, he’s going to find himself on the lowest one.”
Megan couldn’t hold back a smile. “I love you, too, Blair.”
Blair’s voice softened. “I’m just looking out for you, Megs.”
“And I love you for it. Now go use your animosity and derision against the lying, cheating bastards who are your bread and butter.” Megan hung up, then stared at the phone’s blank screen for a moment. She missed the Blair she remembered from childhood. Blair was still the strongest, fiercest person Megan knew, but she’d acquired a hard edge that could wound even those closest to her.
Megan lay back down and held up her itinerary. Florist 9:00 a.m. Photographer 10:00, Orchestra director 11:00, Lunch at noon, Pick up wedding and bridesmaids’ dresses at 1:30. She was exhausted from just looking at the list. But the fact that her mother was dragging her along made it ten times worse.
Did Libby and Blair know about the one-thirty appointment? Hopefully they’d agree to come. Gram definitely wasn’t enough moral support. Megan needed more people on her team.
She picked up her phone again and called Libby. “Hey, Libs. Did my mom tell you about picking up the bridesmaids’ dresses today?”
“Um . . . yeah. She mentioned it last week.”
“I don’t suppose you planned on showing up?”
“Seeing how you weren’t engaged when she called, no.”
“Do you think you can . . . ?” If either of her friends could take off work, it was usually Libby. As a professional photographer, her schedule was usually more flexible.
Libby groaned. “Lucky for you, I don’t have any appointments today. What time?”
“One thirty. At Sherri’s Bridal.”
“Yeah,” she muttered. “I remember. I’ll be there.”
“You’re the best!”
“I know,” she laughed. “And you owe me.”
Megan stared up at the ceiling. “How come you aren’t asking me why I’m picking up my wedding dress when I’m not even getting married?”
“Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. See you at one thirty, Megs.”
What was Libby suggesting? She’d only just met Josh; her friend couldn’t think she’d actually marry him. The dress was paid for, wedding or not. Hopefully Megan would get married for real someday and she could use it. She loved the dress. Truth be told, wearing it was what she’d been looking forward to most about the wedding.
The knowledge struck her again, sticking to her skin like crazy glue—the whole wedding was already bought and paid for . . . no take-backs. Her parents were out a ton of money. The guilt of lying hung over her, sucking her energy away. Or was it the thought of spending the day with her mother?