Deliver Me (41 page)

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Authors: Farrah Rochon

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BOOK: Deliver Me
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“She told me about
Patrick Dangerfield.”

Nia’s eyes widened
in surprise before she said, “Well, you’re in the same boat with him, buddy.”

Eli jumped up from
his chair, crossing over to where she stood just inside the doorway. “No. I am
not
like him. Nia, you have got to help
me.”

“I don’t know why I
believe you.”

“Because you know I’m
good for her.”

“I’m not convinced
of that yet.”

Eli sent her another
pleading look.

She held up her
hands. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.” She cut her
eyes at him. “I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Eli captured her
hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.
More than likely, Monica’s going to put both me and my husband out for arguing
on your behalf. I hope you’ve got extra room at your house. On second thought,
I’d rather stay at your Mama’s. At least I’d have decent food to look forward
to.”

“I’ll have Mama feed
you for the rest of your life. Just get Monica to talk to me.”

“I’ll see what I can
do,” she said again. “You need to get some sleep. You won’t get a single bid
tomorrow if you walk on stage looking like a sick dog.”

Eli winced. “You do
have a colorful way of putting things.” He didn’t bother correcting her
assumption that he would be up for bid at tomorrow’s auction.

“It’s my trademark,”
Nia smiled.

“Please, do all you
can,” Eli said, more seriously. “I...I need to talk to her. I have to
straighten this out.”

She sighed, shook
her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully, you’ll be hearing from her
tonight.”

When she closed the
door, Eli instantly sank to his knees, praying Nia’s influence would buy him a
few minutes of Monica’s time. That’s all he needed.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

The rental company
was late.

Monica took a deep
breath and tried to calm her nerves. It wasn’t the end of the world. If she was
lucky, this would be the only mishap of the day. What a blessing that would be.

“They just called,
Dr. Gardner.” It was Patty, who was not on the banquet committee, but had
graciously volunteered her time.

“What’s the problem,”
Monica snapped. She checked herself. It wasn’t Patty’s fault the tent was not
up yet. Along with the tables and chairs. Five hours before the start of the
freaking banquet!

“You’re not going to
like what they had to say,” Patty warned.

Monica closed her
eyes.

Breathe. Just breathe
.

“What,” she asked,
unclenching her teeth.

“They double-booked
the tent. They said we either have to settle for a smaller one or push our
start time back by about an hour.”

Monica held out her
hand. “Give me that number.”

She pulled the
number into her cell phone. Waiting for someone to pick up, she started on a
tour of the grounds, supervising the work being done around the massive house.

Despite the current
calamity with the rental company, things were running smoothly. The decorator
had done an outstanding job, and was patiently waiting in the wings until the
tent arrived so she could finish her job.

The aroma coming
from the kitchen smelled good enough to make her stomach rumble, especially
since she had skipped breakfast. As soon as she finished ripping into the
idiots from the rental company, she would try to sneak a couple of samples from
the kitchen.

Finally, someone
picked up. Monica let loose on the salesman.

Holding a finger up
to halt Patty, Monica finished with the threat, “If you want to remain in
business, you will have the correct tent here within the hour.” She snapped the
phone close.

“I’m scared of you,”
Patty said with a look of feigned horror mixed with a little admiration.

“Not yet,” she
answered. “But if anything else goes wrong today, watch out.”

“Thanks for the
warning,” she laughed. “The caterers need to know where to set up the ice
sculpture.”

“Ah, that’s my
fault. I was supposed give them that information last week. I’ll take care of
it,” Monica told her.

After informing the
caterer, Monica went in search of Dr. Miller who was in charge of readying the
stage for tonight’s musical performance and the auction that would follow.

Before she knew it,
the entire afternoon had flown by. The banquet would be starting in a little
more than an hour. Monica spotted Nia and Phillip coming from among the foliage
on the far side of the house.

Oh, great. She had
too many things on her mind to deal with Nia right now. The traitor.

If Monica could have
wagered on who would be on her side in this fiasco between her and Eli, she
would have placed every last cent on Nia. If it were a real bet, she’d be
broke.

She could not
believe her ears last night as she’d listened to her best friend—her
sister—
expound on the qualities
Eli still possessed and give reasons why Monica should give him a chance to
explain.

Give
him
a chance?

Nia had always been
her staunchest supporter. For her best friend to suddenly switch sides was not
only surprising, but hurtful. Monica had never felt more betrayed and alone.

As Nia and her
brother approached, Monica forced herself to keep her face expressionless.

Nia held her hands
out in surrender. “I come in peace,” she said.

Monica couldn’t
trust herself to speak.

“I know you’re
upset, honey.”

“Actually, I’d use a
stronger word.” Monica crossed her arms over her chest. “You see, my best
friend stabbed me in the back.”

“What else can I say
but that I’m sorry?”

“You can admit you
were wrong.”

“Am I forgiven?” Nia
asked. She did not admit to being wrong. Typical.

Still, the makings
of a grin tugged at Monica’s lips. She could never stay angry at Nia. “Only
because I’m too wound up to fight with you,” Monica said, giving her best
friend a short embrace so not to wrinkle her elegant silk suit.

Looking at Nia in
the knockout gorgeous cream-colored ensemble reminded Monica that she needed to
change pretty soon.

“So, are you nervous
about pulling this off?”

“Not at all,” Monica
answered. It wasn’t a total lie. Her nerves had calmed down considerably once
she’d settled things with the tent rental company. The increasing gray clouds
off in the distance were raising the hair on the back of her neck just a
little, though.

“This thing isn’t
going to put me to sleep tonight, is it?” her brother asked.

“Oh, shut up,
Phillip,” Nia said. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him embarrass you by snoring
halfway through the auction.”

“I just won’t claim
to know him,” Monica said, pinching her brother’s arm.

“It all looks
wonderful,” Nia commented, making a slow circle as she took in her
surroundings.

“Thank you. Everyone
has worked so hard. I’m just hoping we pull in enough to keep the center open.”

And knock the socks
off her fellow colleagues, of course. Although the desire to impress the other
doctors at Methodist Memorial was not as strong as it had been when she had
first begun this project. The more Monica worked on it, the more important it
became that the banquet and auction meet its original intent—to save the
Parenting Center. That’s what this was all about.

“Okay, I know I said
I wouldn’t mention his name again, but has
he
shown up yet?” Nia asked.

If she were not her
best friend, Monica would have punched Nia. It took every ounce of control to
keep her hands to her sides, though they still balled into fists.

“He doesn’t have to
be here until the start of the banquet,” Monica answered. “His job was securing
the entertainment, which is already setting up, and getting the guys for the
auction.”

To be honest, Monica
had been a little upset when Toby arrived with Aria Jordan in tow, but no Eli.
Her mind kept telling her that she didn’t need to see him, but a large portion
of her heart rebelled against the thought. Her body was craving to see him,
even if only for a few brief moments.

“Now,” Monica said,
facing Nia. “We can either change the subject, or you can find someone else to
talk to.”

“I’m going to look
around a little more,” Phillip interjected. “I don’t think I want to be around
for the rest of this conversation.”

“Coward,” both
Monica and Nia said to his retreating back.

“I’m sorry,” Nia
said, extending her arms.

Monica grasped her
hands. “I’m not going to hug you again, because I don’t want to mess up your
clothes, but your apology is accepted.”

“I just think—”

“I’m being very
generous, Nia. Don’t push it.”

“Fine,” her best
friend said, holding her hands up in surrender again. “You know what you’re
doing.”

“Yes, I do. And
right now, I’m going to get dressed. People are already showing up.”

“You go get pretty.
I’ll catch up with my husband. He’s probably snatching a sneak peek at tonight’s
desserts.”

“If you can, try the
crème brûlée cheesecake. It is divine.”

“Girl, you don’t
have to tell me but once,” Nia said, heading for the caterer’s tent.

Despite the small
threat of rain that quickly passed, and a misprint spotted on the program,
Monica was able to get through the rest of the evening’s preparations without
having to down a bottle of aspirin or chug Mylanta.

She went in search
of the plantation caretaker to inquire about a place where she could change.

“We have the
dressing room that bridal parties use. Go up the stairs and take a left. It’s
the last door on your left.”

“Thank you,” Monica
answered. She grabbed the hanging bag from her car and quickly made it to the
dressing room. When she stepped into the spacious area, Monica’s heart gave a
small tug.

Brides had readied
themselves for their grooms in this very room. She could just imagine them in
their wedding finery, preening in front of the mirrored wall, preparing for a
lifetime of happiness.

All she was
preparing for was a banquet.

She closed her eyes
for a moment, giving herself the chance to reflect on the abysmal outlook of
her romantic future.

Her eyes popped
open. She had a job to do tonight, and she was never one to shirk her
responsibilities. She could lament about being lonely tomorrow.

Monica quickly
changed. She stuffed the clothes she’d taken off in the garment bag, zipped it
up, and left the confines of the depressingly cheerful dressing room. By the
time she went down to put the bag in her car, half the guests had shown up.

After weeks of
planning, the hour was finally here. Time to show them all what she was made
of. Time to save Methodist Memorial’s Parenting Center.

 

***

 

Eli jerked the black
silk tie from his neck, then tried to retie it. If he couldn’t make a simple
knot for his tie, he should just throw in the towel and plan to spend the night
at home. He probably shouldn’t drive in the state he was in.

Monica never called.

He’d been waiting at
the phone like a love-struck teenager. Checking his pager and cell phone on an
hourly basis. Calling into his voice mail at the hospital to see if she’d tried
to contact him there. But he’d heard nothing.

Either Nia had
decided he wasn’t worth the hassle of potentially harming her friendship with
Monica, or she didn’t have as much influence as Eli had originally thought.
Whatever the case, he had not heard from Monica in days.

This overwhelming
ache in his chest was new to him. He’d broken it off with women before, but he’d
never experienced the bone-deep hurt, the true physical pain he now felt. The
thought of having to go the rest of his life without ever seeing her face
beside him when he woke in the morning, or her smile across the table as they
ate breakfast…

It stole his breath
and caused his chest to tighten unmercifully.

And that’s when Eli
knew. He was in love with her. He was unbelievably, without a doubt,
give-up-everything-he-possessed-just-to-see-her-face-again in love.

It was a feeling
unlike any he’d ever had before. In this short amount of time, she’d come to
mean the world to him.

And now, she wouldn’t
even speak to him.

Grabbing the tie,
Eli made his fourth attempt at making a knot. Some how, some way, he was going
to get through to her tonight. But only God knew how.

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