Kaye Dacus - Stand-In Groom

Mentally, George added elocution lessons to the etiquette he planned to teach Courtney between now and the engagement party. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Come to dinner with us tonight?”

“Of course.”

She gave him directions to the restaurant, although he’d Map-Quest it as soon as he got inside. He waited on the porch until the car disappeared between the tree rows, then leaned against the front door after closing it and resetting the alarm. The deception had just gotten a little bigger. Now Courtney’s mother believed he was the fiancé. But concealing the truth of his identity from the wedding planner had felt much worse than this.

The wedding planner.

He cut off all the lights and descended toward the service level. Anne Hawthorne.

When he’d seen her at the restaurant, he’d immediately wanted to get to know her better. No one had affected him like that in a very long time. And he must lie to her to protect his employer’s identity and keep his job.

He shook his head as he regained his seat at the island. The next five weeks were going to be, like, the longest of his life.

“What in the world is wrong with you, Grumpy McGrouch?”

Sitting at the large table in the back room of her cousin Jenn’s rustic seafood restaurant Monday evening, Anne thought she was doing a good job of hiding her emotions. But Jenn was right: Anne had been in a bad mood ever since Courtney and her fiancé had left her office that morning. Not available. Just wait until Forbes got here!

“No joke,” chimed in Meredith. “All you’ve done since you walked in is shred every napkin on the table. Was the wedding this weekend really that bad?”

Anne glanced around at the blizzard of white paper on the table. “I’m sorry, y’all. I asked for us to have dinner tonight instead of Thursday, and here I am being completely unsociable. It’s just been—a stressful day.”

Meredith squeezed Anne’s shoulder. “No, we’re sorry for teasing you.”

Jenn flopped into the chair on her other side. “Hey, you were going to tell us about that guy you saw. The one having dinner with Forbes the other night. Forbes is running late. So tell us.”

Anne snorted. “Well, when I first saw him, I thought he was handsome—and I seriously felt like maybe God had finally answered my prayers.” She crossed her arms and slouched down in the plush red chair.

“But something changed?” Meredith prompted, pushing back a piece of hair back from Anne’s face and letting her hand rest on Anne’s shoulder.

“He’s engaged. He and his fiancée were my ten o’clock consultation this morning.”

“Oh, Annie.” Jenn vigorously rubbed Anne’s other shoulder.

“That’s not the worst part. The worst part is that his fiancée is Courtney Landry.”

Meredith cocked her head. “Courtney… which one is she?”

“The baby. The one who’s barely nineteen years old. I mean, this guy has to be at least forty. You’d think Forbes—”

“Did I hear my name?”

“Speak of the devil.” Jenn stood to allow her oldest brother to take the chair on Anne’s left.

“Devil indeed.” Anne punched him in the arm as soon as he sat down. “Not available?”

“Ouch! Wha—?”

“George Laurence! I felt like such an idiot this morning when he and his fiancée walked into my office. The least you could’ve done was tell me he’s engaged. Then I wouldn’t have—” Oops, she’d almost said too much.

Forbes stood and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Wouldn’t have what?”

She scrambled for something believable. “Wouldn’t have acted so surprised when they walked in.”

“You didn’t have their names written down in your calendar?” Forbes sat and shoved the pile of shredded napkins to the middle of the large round table. “Really, Anne, you’re usually so much more organized than that.”

That little half grin, dimple, and sparkle in his blue eyes weren’t going to work this time. “When the information downloaded from the Web site, all it had was her last name, which is pretty common in this state, if you haven’t noticed. I arranged the appointment by e-mail, and she never signed her name to any of the correspondence.”

“But it’s going to be worth it, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow.

“Hrrrrr.” She groaned, smiled, and shook her head. “Yeah, it’s going to be more than worth it—if they’re telling me the truth.”

Forbes’s left eyebrow shot up. “What leads you to believe they’re not telling you the truth?”

“No limits to what can be spent? Come on. Everyone has their limits.”

“Oh.” He loosened his tie and turned to look over his left shoulder. “Hey, Jenn?” he called across the room to his sister.

She waved at him but didn’t turn from her conversation with two of her servers. When she was finished, she rejoined them. “What’s up?”

“That new music come in yet?”

“Yep—even those tracks Annie wanted me to order.” Jenn poked Anne’s shoulder. “And I just want you to know, those were hard to come by, too.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to expose y’all to the classics. All this new music—”

“Good grief!” Jason, a younger cousin to all of them, flopped into the chair beside Meredith. “Karaoke hasn’t even started, and she’s already griping about modern music.”

Anne laughed along with them. She’d save the lecture for the next couple choosing their reception music. Once the other cousins arrived and the food was served, they cajoled Jenn into opening up the microphone an hour early.

“You’ll have to get up and do a couple of those songs you want us all to hear so much,” Forbes said.

Anne shook her head, and her stomach flip-flopped. “No. You know I can’t sing in front of a crowd.”

“Once you’re up there with the spotlight on you, you can’t see anyone. Just concentrate on the words going across the TV screen, and you won’t think about anyone else being here.” Jenn jogged across the restaurant to the stage.

The rest of her cousins caught on to Forbes’s suggestion and started chanting Anne’s name. A bit of feedback quieted the now-packed restaurant. Anne angled her chair to see the stage better.

“Welcome to the Fishin’ Shack, where every night is family-friendly karaoke.” Jenn’s announcement and following dialogue with her patrons got the crowd riled up. “Now I see the sign-up list is already pretty full.” She pointed at the small whiteboard beside the stage. “And I usually open it up to the first person on the list. But tonight, we have a special request from the large party in the back.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “That would be my crazy family.”

The men at the table stood and cheered as if their football team had just scored a touchdown.

Jenn’s eye-roll was easy to see from across the room. “Anyway, if you’ve looked at the new music list tonight, you may have noticed some strange titles. Anne—why don’t you come up here and entertain us with one of them?”

Anne’s cheeks burned. She hated being put on the spot— especially when it meant public humiliation. The cousins started chanting her name again. She narrowed her eyes and grimaced at them before rising and crossing the dining room. She took the list from Jenn and picked out the first song title she recognized, pointing out the number to the sound guy.

Jenn hadn’t been lying. Once she stood on the platform, she couldn’t see anything but dark shadows beyond the bright spotlight.

The trumpet blast that started Dean Martin’s “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head” drew whoops and cheers from the crowd. She smiled and started singing—nervous at first, then with growing confidence as she lost herself in one of her favorite singer’s signature songs.

She didn’t do it justice, but she did have fun. The audience cheered and clapped when the music ended. The next person, an older gentleman, took the microphone from her but stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I haven’t heard that song since the last time I saw the Rat Pack on stage in Vegas. Good choice.”

Several people stopped her on her way back to the table to let her know how much they’d enjoyed the song.

* * *

“And we ought to see if that Elvis impersonator Sara had at her reception is available. You don’t want your uncle Billy Joe doing it once he gets into the beer.”

George coughed and reached for his water glass. Since sitting down for dinner at the upscale restaurant, one absurd comment after another had spewed forth from Mrs. Landry’s mouth, nearly bringing the half-chewed food back out as well.

If Courtney’s shoulders drooped any lower, she’d be under the table. His heart twisted with compassion for the young woman. To be so browbeaten by a woman with such poor taste. He steeled himself to do what he’d been dreading all evening—living up to his namesake and facing the dragon.

He drew in a deep breath, wiped his mouth on the white cloth napkin, and laid it beside his plate. “Mrs. Landry, while I thank you for making suggestions for the wedding, I would ask that you cease now. Your daughter has hired a professional wedding planner to take care of all those details.”

Mrs. Landry’s mouth hung open, exhibiting the remains of the pasta she’d been chewing. “I beg your pardon!” She slammed her fork down hard enough to make the glassware on the table tremble and clink together. “Courtney, are you going to sit there and let him talk to me like that?”

Tears brimmed in the girl’s eyes. “Mama, please. You’re making a scene.”

“He started it.” Mrs. Landry pointed across the table at George.

How had Courtney turned out to be so delightful? He had to get her away from the harpy before Mrs. Landry ruined this experience for her. He dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table, then stood and offered his hand to Courtney. She folded her napkin beside her plate and rose, not looking at her mother.

“Mrs. Landry, dinner was—enlightening. I will take Courtney home.” He gave the sputtering older woman a curt nod and led Courtney out of the restaurant.

Outside, Courtney threw her arms around his waist. Taken aback, he froze, hands hovering away from his sides.

“Thank you so much. I’ve been wanting to tell her all afternoon to shut up. She offered to pay for part of the wedding, but probably only so she can have some say in what happens.”

He patted her back. “Do you want her involved in the planning process?”

“No!” She released him. “I don’t even want her at the wedding, much less having any say about it.”

“Now, miss, she is your mother.”

Once again, tears threatened to overflow the innocent brown eyes. “That’s just it. She is my mother, and she knows exactly how to get under my skin. I don’t know how I’m going to last four months in her house.”

“You don’t have to.” The valet arrived with the car. George held the door for her, then went around and climbed in. “You’re going to direct me to her house, and you are going to pack your bags and move into your fiancé’s home.”

Her full lips started to form into a smile. “Mama will flip when she finds out.”

They’d been at the house nearly twenty minutes, and Courtney was halfway through moving her clothes from the bureau to a suitcase, when her mother stormed into the room. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Packing, Mama.” Courtney continued arranging the folded T-shirts in a layer on top of the blue jeans.

George moved in between them as Mrs. Landry reached out to grab Courtney’s arm. He intercepted her hand. “Kindly allow Miss Courtney to continue what she’s doing.”

Mrs. Landry gasped and jerked away. “How dare you come between me and my daughter!” Her voice rose to a pitch that would soon have all the dogs in the gated, exclusive subdivision barking. “Where do you think you’re going to go? To live in sin with him?” She practically shrieked the accusatory words.

“Mama!”

“Mrs. Landry, that is quite enough.” George used every ounce of training and past experience to keep his voice even and low. “Courtney is going to move into one of the third-floor bedrooms. I will be staying in a room in the basement—beside the housekeeper’s room. Nothing untoward will happen.”

“If you’re not—then why—?”

“Because it’s obvious she cannot stay here one moment longer.”

“Well, I never!” Mrs. Landry folded her arms across her ample— and most likely not natural—chest. From the way her face screwed up, she seemed to be trying to conjure some tears. “I can’t believe you’re going to choose him over me! Is that what you really want? Because if you leave here, that’s what you’re doing. I’ll…I’ll never speak to you again.”