Wine & Roses Page 5

  “Is he the one—”

  “No. I’ve never seen them together before, though I’ve heard she’s been angling for him for some time. He was married, until just recently.” Jason’s biting tone suggested Brianna might have had something to do with the divorce, though it was nothing more than speculation.

  “Does it bother you to see her?”

  Returning his attention to the woman in his arms, he glimpsed the concern in her eyes, and silently reprimanded himself for reacting to Brianna’s presence at all. “No.” After a pause he admitted, “Maybe a little.”

  “Do you want to go outside and get some air?” she suggested. “You’ll feel better.”

  Releasing a sharp breath, Jason nodded, allowing Abby to nudge him off the dance floor, through the foyer and out the front door of the hotel.

  “I’m so sorry, Abby.” He set his hands in his pockets as they wandered toward the gardens beyond the parking lot. Dusk was settling in, casting a pale sheen over the manicured grounds. “I shouldn’t let it upset me. It’s been long enough, I should be over it.”

  Beside him, Abby clasped her hands behind her back as she walked. “It can take a long time to recover from betrayal, Jason. Even after you no longer love the person, the self-doubt can linger.”

  “I haven’t loved Bree for some time,” he told her truthfully, wondering whether what he’d felt for Brianna had been love or something more like infatuation. What he knew for certain was that he’d intended on spending the rest of his life as her husband. The only time he’d come close to wanting someone else had been the night he met Abby, and his intense attraction to her had caused him deep pangs of guilt when he returned home that evening.

  At the time he’d been blissfully unaware of Brianna’s rendezvous with another man that same evening, involving much more than flirting.

  Abby was right, of course. Though he no longer cared for Bree, Jason still distrusted himself. “To this day I wonder why I didn’t see it,” he said, struggling to explain the fracture that lingered in his heart. “Not just the infidelity, but the type of person she is, and the way she manipulated me. It seems so clear now.” He drew a shuddery breath, as fresh anger surged through him. “God, I wish she hadn’t shown up tonight. I didn’t want you to see me this way.”

  Abby’s slim shoulders lifted. “To be honest, I’m relieved to see a vulnerable side of you. It’s good to know you’re not actually perfect.”

  “Perfect?” he echoed, her response surprising him.

  “You always say just the right things, Jason. It’s lovely—you’ve made me feel very special, but it doesn’t help me get to know you. And I really would like to.”

  Jason slowed his pace and then stopped, turning to face her under the canopy of an elm tree. Her words settled warmly in his chest, drawing a soft smile to his lips. “When you do, maybe you can tell me why I’m so pathetic as to even notice what my self-serving ex-fiancée is up to, when I’m here with someone sweet and genuine—who, until now, has thought of me as perfect.”

  Abby laughed, errant curls fluttering around her face in the warm evening breeze. “You’re only human, Jason. At least you had the courage to put an end to things when you found out Brianna wasn’t who you thought she was. I wish I’d known when to cut my losses with Colin.”

  Jason stroked her arm lightly, feeling goose bumps stipple her flesh under his fingertips. “You must have known, Abby. But I suspect Colin hurt you somehow. I think that whatever he did must have eroded your confidence, and that he did this to keep you from leaving. Am I right?”

  She looked at him sharply, the raw emotion in her eyes startling him. Her lips parted, but it took her a moment to reply. “You’re not wrong. But I kept thinking I could fix it. My parents had such a solid marriage, I suppose I expected the same. When it didn’t work out that way, I felt I’d failed.”

  The pain of the memory was plain in her shimmering eyes and in the subtle quiver in her voice, and Jason suffered an echoing ache in his own chest. He realized he had been just the same, expecting to recreate the ideal marriage his parents had enjoyed—or, at least, his memories of what they had shared before his mother passed away when he was fourteen. Maybe he’d wanted it a little too much, and Brianna had been a convenient choice. He would have saved himself the heartache had he followed his father’s example after his mother’s death, pursuing a series of relationships but choosing never to commit himself long-term to one woman. Owen Brinleigh had, after all, died a confirmed and very contented bachelor.

  “Never mind, Abby.” Jason felt eager to comfort her. “You’re a beautiful, kind, talented woman. You can start over now. Don’t let Colin Bennett stop you from being who you are.”

  “I’m trying my best,” she said, blinking back her tears. “But starting over isn’t easy. It’s true that I’ve achieved the success I always dreamed of with my writing. But I also imagined I’d be settled in a home with my husband and kids by now. I was so ready for it, prepared to make up for all the mistakes my parents made with me. But look at me now—I have the house but I’m living alone there, a child-less widow. Certainly not what I pictured.”

  “You’re lonely?”

  Her shoulders jerked up, as though she were reluctant to admit it. “I have my friends, but they go home to their own families. I feel a bit left behind.”

  “Life is full of possibilities.” Compassion for her pressed on Jason’s heart. “Something unexpected and wonderful could be around the corner. There are always new dreams to find and fulfill, if you can leave the past where it belongs.”

  “You could take your own advice.” Abby cast a sideways glance toward the hotel.

  “I could, yes,” he admitted.

  A ghost of a smile touched her lips, and she glanced down at her elegant gown. “You know, all this really isn’t me. Remember how I looked when you first walked into The Roses? That’s how you’ll find me most days, dressed for comfort. It’s fun to be glamourous once in a while, but it’s not my world.”

  She clasped her hands tightly together, as though afraid he might be disappointed. Quite the opposite was true.

  “I’m the same way, Abby. I invited you here because you’re the only person I could think of whose company would make this evening tolerable.”

  Her smile broadened as her hands relaxed. “I hope I’ve achieved that.”

  “Without a doubt.” Drawing her to him, Jason held her gently, stroking her back as he planted a soft kiss on the bridge of her nose.

  She smiled up at him, her cheeks rosy. “You know I’ve got another party to go to next Friday in Toronto, a little launch party for my new book.”

  “Are you looking forward to it?”

  “Not really. It’s nice to be recognized, but I’m uncomfortable being the focus of attention. I find it stressful, actually.”

  “If you insist on looking this gorgeous, you’ll have to get used to the attention.” His hand drifted up to settle at the back of her neck.

  “I won’t be dressed to the nines like this. We’ve rented one of those harbour cruise boats.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “All my friends will be there. Having them there helps to put me at ease. You could come, too. If you’re free.” Her dark lashes swept up as her gaze searched his, the setting sun sparking flecks of gold in the depths of her amber eyes.

  Jason hesitated, growing uneasy. If he hadn’t meant to get deeply involved with Abby, accompanying her to an event attended by her close social circle would rapidly unravel that plan. True, he’d already kissed her passionately in front of high society, but that was different; the people at the gala weren’t Abby’s friends. Escorting her to this more intimate party, where he’d be introduced to the people who truly cared about her, would surely mean something more. The thought of it set his mind scrambling for escape.

  “I’m pretty busy at the winery,” he said. It wasn’t a lie; he’d been planning to catch up on some work he’d been neglecting, and he had a late meetin
g scheduled with his distributor that he shouldn’t cancel. “But call me after you get back, and we’ll have a celebratory dinner.”

  Abby’s smile faltered, uncertainty filtering through her expression. “Sure. It’s all right, I know you’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”

  “Time to head back inside, I think.” A sour feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “The committee will wonder where I am.”

  Chapter Five

  “So your boyfriend hasn’t shown up yet?” Marguerite glanced around as though expecting him to pop out from behind the buffet table.

  “Jason’s not my boyfriend.” Abby crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I don’t think.” She, too, couldn’t help casting her eyes about, scanning the people filtering in from the deck to the narrow salon, stopping to acquire a cocktail from the bar. As the boat’s engine rumbled louder, she felt its vibration under her feet, and realized they’d be leaving the dock any minute. She chewed absently on her fingernail, her heart making a slow descent in her chest; she’d nursed a small hope that Jason would show up after all, but that hope was swiftly fading.

  “Really?” Marguerite went on. “Rumour has it the two of you were heating up the dance floor last weekend, and it wasn’t your cha-cha-ca that caused a stir.”

  Abby felt her sinking heart skip a little at the memory of that evening. “Sure, but the moment I mentioned this party he froze up.”

  Marguerite’s shoulders lifted dismissively, her red-painted mouth twisted into a smirk. “I suppose making out with Colin Bennett’s widow in front of your late husband’s social circle would be a satisfying coup for young Mr. Brinleigh, considering the bad blood between them.”

  Irritated by the remark, Abby cut her friend a sharp glance. “Jason wouldn’t use me like that.”

  “If you say so.” Her tone still skeptical, Marguerite reached over to grab a stuffed mushroom cap from the buffet table and popped it casually into her mouth.

  “I think he’s a little gun-shy,” Abby added. “His ex-fiancée showed up with another man.”

  Her friend regarded her with one eyebrow lifted, hurrying to swallow her mouthful before she replied. “Is he still carrying a torch?”

  “He says not. But something like that can be traumatic, all the same.” Though she didn’t doubt Jason’s interest in her was genuine—well, didn’t doubt it much, anyhow—Abby couldn’t help but wonder whether he might harbour unresolved feelings for Brianna. She’d seen the dark look that crossed his features, and felt his shoulders tighten under her hand, when he spotted his former fiancée across the dance floor. A stunning blonde, Brianna was bright-eyed and young, probably less than thirty years old; Abby could hardly blame him for being drawn to her. But from what Jason had said, the only emotions that lingered for him were anger and hurt.

  “It seems the plot thickens every time we talk. What could be next?” Marguerite cast a probing glance at Abby’s dour expression. “Abby, don’t tell me you’re falling for this guy.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” The question elicited another jump in her pulse. She paced over to the book table, where she busied herself straightening the hardcover copies of her new novel on display. “I do like him a lot, but I’m not going to fall apart because he didn’t show up at my book launch. He’s not obligated.”

  “You do seem a little upset.”

  “Just thinking about my speech. You know I hate making speeches. Especially in front of the press.”

  In truth, Abby wasn’t thinking about her speech at all. That she would get through unscathed. Her feelings for Jason were another matter. The feelings growing in her heart were already alarmingly strong, just as Marguerite had predicted. There was no mistaking the warm pocket that formed behind her breastbone whenever he smiled at her, or the girlish flutter in her belly when his hand brushed hers. And there was no disregarding the dull ache of missing his presence. It was a strangely pleasant kind of ache, unfamiliar to her—something she hadn’t experienced when she was separated from Colin, even for extended periods. At the same time, the exhilaration of having found someone to care about was tempered by a sense of unease.

  Abby hated feeling insecure; during her marriage she’d worked hard to hold onto her self-confidence and independence in the face of Colin’s criticism. In the year since his death, she’d found a sense of peace with herself, and contentment at being on her own. Now she found herself imagining a future involving Jason Brinleigh, and wondering just what kind of future that might be, and how long it could last. After all, he was nine years younger than Abby—and even though an age difference shouldn’t matter in this day and age, she knew it did.

  First and foremost, she couldn’t give him a family. She didn’t even know if he wanted children, and it seemed too soon to ask; but surely it was something he’d considered already, or would very soon, as he was perfectly aware of her age. The only opinion on the matter that he’d expressed to her what that happily-ever-after was a fairy-tale notion, and she’d agreed with him. But attitudes like that could easily change, and in time he might come to want a wife and a family, and again Marguerite was right: a woman Abby’s age would not fit the bill. As much as she’d tried to erase Colin’s hurtful words from her mind, they lingered in the recesses of her memories, and she couldn’t help but fear that Jason would tire of her as her husband had.

  Abby shook her head; she shouldn’t be thinking about marriage and babies when she’d only seen Jason a handful of times, and only once on an official date. But Marguerite, damn her cynicism, had made another good point: no matter how she might tell herself it was what she wanted, Abby wasn’t the type to be satisfied with a casual relationship, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was too deep in her heart not to break it once he was gone.

  Marguerite’s hand on Abby’s arm jarred her back to her present circumstances. “You’ll be fine. It’s a great speech. You’re among friends, you know.”

  Abby didn’t have time to reply before people were approaching her, reaching out to shake her hand, congratulating her and peppering her with questions—a welcome distraction from her solemn thoughts.

  * * *

  He was last to step aboard the boat, just before the gangway was withdrawn. As the vessel shuddered under his feet, he grasped the railing to steady himself, his stomach tightening. Jason hated boats; even a short ferry ride could leave him queasy for hours. But it was too late to disembark now.

  Even that morning, he hadn’t been planning to come here. It was only at the last minute that he’d changed his mind. Buried in paperwork at the winery, he’d been unable to focus on anything but a mental image of Abby’s face, the disappointment in her eyes burned into his brain. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t get through the evening without him, but she had clearly wanted him there. Despite her misgivings about the event, it was a big deal for her, and he couldn’t bear to have her think he couldn’t be bothered to lend his support.

  Jason wandered toward the salon, following several other guests as they entered through the swinging door. Inside, he encountered a crowd of people by the bar, ordering drinks and milling about to chat.

  “I heard they got rather cozy at some charity event last weekend,” said the heavy-set brunette in front of him, blocking his path along with her companion.

  “Hmm. I heard the same thing,” replied the companion, a tall and slender blonde whose back was to Jason.

  “I hear he’s quite a dish,” the brunette remarked. “And young. Good for Abby.”

  The blonde sniffed derisively. “Not so good for Abby, if you ask me.”

  At the mention of Abby’s name, Jason’s head snapped up. He recognized the blonde then—it could only be Marguerite, Abby’s friend, whom he’d met at Abby’s birthday party two years ago. He hadn’t seen her since, but her thick white-gold mane was unmistakable even from the back, a jarring contrast to her darkly tanned shoulders. He turned away abruptly, pretending to study a nearby poster depicting the cover of Abby’s new
novel. Murder on the Mezzanine was emblazoned across it in red letters, above an image of a dimly lit theatre, a pale arm draped limply over a balcony.

  “What do you mean?” he heard the brunette ask.

  “It just seems doomed from the start to me,” Marguerite went on tartly. “People are saying all kinds of ridiculous things, like that she has her eye on Jason’s money, because they worshipped Colin and it bugs them to see his widow carrying on with someone new and younger.”

  The brunette sounded surprised. “From what Abby’s told me, Colin was a lousy excuse for a husband.”

  “He was, but it would be just like him to make it look the other way around. He could be extremely charming if it suited his purpose, not to mention manipulative. You have to wonder what he was telling people about Abby.”

  “Who cares what Colin’s buddies think?” intoned the brunette. “If she’s happy, let her be happy.”

  “A little too happy, if you ask me. I think she’s falling hard for this guy already. She’s bound to get hurt. I’ll tell you one thing, if Jason Brinleigh breaks her heart, he’ll have me to answer to.”

  Having heard enough, Jason shuffled his way around the two women, keeping his back to them. Tempting as it was to announce his presence, this wasn’t the time or place for a confrontation. Still, his hands balled into tight fists inside his pockets, as anger swelled through him in a blistering wave. He didn’t particularly care what Colin Bennett’s friends thought of him, but to denigrate Abby’s character was another matter. It didn’t surprise him to hear of Colin spreading lies about her; the man was poison, even to those he was supposed to love and protect. Not that Abby’s friends showed a great deal of class, expressing their ill-informed opinions on her private business during a party meant to honour her achievement.