The Wedding Guest (Colorado Billionaires Book 5) (3 page)

When she emerged, dressed in fresh jeans and a formfitting pale green bias-hemmed blouse, Vicky was up and about. In fact, she’d been out and about, too, and had fetched two steaming cups of coffee from the common room, where they’d met the proprietor the night before.

“Breakfast is served at 8:30,” said Vicky. “I brought you some coffee.” She handed Madlyn a hair dryer. “It’s cold and foggy out, so you’ll want to dry your hair before we leave. My turn in the bathroom?”

Madlyn nodded and mouthed a “Thank you” as she lifted the hot mug of coffee with both hands. She sipped at it, thinking she should be filled with a sense of excitement. She was farther from home than she’d ever been. She was hanging out with her best friend. So why did she feel so empty? Was John feeling this way, too?

She banished that thought immediately. If he did, wouldn’t he have called at least once in the last three months? She’d fought the urge to phone him on many occasions, and Vicky had been there for her, reminding her that she didn’t need to throw away everything she’d worked for just to be able to say there was a man in her life. Going to Los Angeles and living as someone’s kept woman was not what she’d dreamed of since childhood. She took a deep breath and pushed the image of John’s face out of her mind. Instead, she reached for a brochure on the little table by her chair. It was filled with historical information about the oldest part of the bed and breakfast. She forced herself to read every single word in the brochure.

Mercifully, by the time she finished, Vicky had emerged from the ensuite bath looking perfect and ready to meet the day. “I’m famished! Let’s go get breakfast.”

Madlyn was happy to oblige. She followed Vicky out the door.

“There are the French doors.” Vicky pointed up the shallow steps to the wide porch that ran along the east side of the main house. “The owner said last night that we could enter the dining room that way.”

“Whatever you say.” Madz yawned. “I barely remember our arrival.”

Vicky smiled. “You were exhausted.”

“You weren’t?”

“I slept on the plane.”

“How could I sleep?” Madlyn paused on the top step. “It was the first time I’d ever flown first class. I didn't want to miss any of it. I hope you don't mind that I took your fresh-baked cookie when they brought the tray around.”

Vicky laughed. “I don't mind at all.” She leaned close and added, “Wait until you fly on the private jet.”

Madz frowned. “Will my Colorado sensibilities allow me to travel on a conveyance with such a huge carbon footprint?”

“Think of it as research for the boutique. You’ll be investigating the sort of accessories one can use on a private jet. Do passengers need lightweight sweaters? Or is a fleecy top the order of the day?”

Madlyn clapped her hands. “Excellent rationalization. I'll definitely use that one. Do we knock or just go in?”

Vicky murmured, “At these rates? We just go in.” She reached for the doorknob. It was locked.

“It's almost nine,” said Madz. “We're not early. And I see people in there. Well, one of them just left.”

Vicky knocked lightly on the door. A young woman scurried in from the kitchen on the south side of the dining room and came to open the French doors.

“Good morning! Welcome. Please have a seat. Coffee on the sideboard, tea bags and water, too. Juice over there. Help yourselves. Sorry, I have to check the waffles.” She was already headed back through the door she entered by.

Vicky and Madz shared a look and a smile. They helped themselves to coffee and juice, then settled at a small table in the corner.

“This is nice,” said Madz. “I love this place. It has so much personality. I thought you said the place was booked solid. Don't rich people eat?”

Vicky lifted her coffee cup and made sure her pinky finger was high in the air. She put on a haughty manner and said, “Food? Me? It's so beneath the wealthy to allow food to pass our lips.”

“So sorry,” said Madz, playing along by performing a little bow in the space between her chin and the table. “I hope Her Majesty won't hold it against me, but pray tell, how will Her Highness keep body and soul together without, you know, F-O-O-D?”

Vicky waved her hand over her coffee cup as if waving the aroma into her nose. “I breathe in the essence and aroma of sustenance without ever allowing it to enter my body.”

Madlyn giggled. “Does Jason know you mock the rich behind his back?”

“Don't be silly. I mock them in his presence.”

“No!” Madlyn was delighted. She looked around the room, remembering too late that there was one other person in the dining room. Fortunately, soft music was playing just loudly enough that she could hope their words were not overheard. After all, weren't all the people coming to this wedding wealthy? For all her joking around, she didn't actually want to offend anyone.

But that gentleman had his back to them. He was seated at the other two-person table and showed no sign that he’d heard a word. He sat very straight, and he appeared to be reading a newspaper as he sipped his coffee. Madlyn could see him clearly but Vicky had her back to the rest of the room.

Madlyn was about to alert her friend about their fellow diner but was interrupted by the reappearance of the young woman from the kitchen as she delivered their waffles.

“There you are, ladies. So nice to meet you. I’m Julie. I'm your chef today. Waffles, strawberries, and whipped cream, and for the purist, three different syrups. Oh, and butter, of course. Are you here for the big wedding?”

“Yes. We arrived late last night.” Vicky dabbed butter on her waffle. “The family sent a town car to pick us up at the airport, so we’re without a car. Do you know anything about transportation to Quaker Hill? I tried to call, but my phone doesn’t seem to get service here. Oh, forgive me. I'm Vicky, and this is my dear friend Madlyn.”

Julie smiled at each in turn. “Cell phones don't get very good reception here at all. But feel free to use the house phone for local calls. It's a landline.”

“Thanks,” said Vicky.

“How do you like your eggs?”

Vicky and Madlyn stared at her, uncomprehending.

Julie said, “For your second course? Eggs and bacon?”

“Oh, not for me, thank you. The waffle is plenty.”

“Same here,” said Madlyn. “Are there taxis here? I'd like to take a look at the town, maybe buy some postcards.”

“There are two taxis, but they take their calls in order of receiving them, so service can be a bit slow. If you want to look around the village, we're only half a mile from the heart of Pawling. Lots of little shops and a train station.” She looked from one to the other. “No eggs?”

“No thanks,” they chorused.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything for your room. I'm also your maid service for the morning. Excuse me.” She moved to ask the other occupant of the room how he wanted his eggs.

Madlyn poured maple syrup over her waffle, then spooned on strawberries and added two big dollops of whipped cream. “Gosh, no car is a bummer.”

“I agree,” said Vicky. “Don't worry. I'll get us one by hook or by crook. But frankly, I was grateful for the town car from LaGuardia. New York traffic intimidates me.”

“Is it worse than Colorado?”

“You have no idea. But don't worry. It's not that bad up here away from the City.” She glanced at her iPhone. “I'm supposed to attend some luncheon get together up at the Manse on behalf of the bride. Do you want to come? You haven't met Maria yet.”

“If you'd like me to come, I'd be happy to, but otherwise I’ll stay here. I’m a little tired.”

Vicky squeezed her hand. “Madz, I know you’re still sad about John. But the whole purpose of coming here is to help you move on. Please don’t sit alone in the room and waste energy on what might have been.”

Madlyn felt a twinge of guilt. That was exactly what she’d had planned. “You know me too well. Without a car, I'd just be sitting around looking at the gloomy scenery. It's kind of spooky out there, and everything is so crowded together. Did you see the hill right behind the house? It's very steep and covered with leafless trees.”

“Three weeks ago, it was aflame with color,” Vicky said. “We missed the fall beauty pageant by twenty-one days.”

“Lucky us.”

“Your sarcasm is showing,” Vicky teased. “We'll ask the groom's family if we can borrow a car for the duration. Or at least get a lift to a rental agency.”

Madlyn relaxed in her chair. “That would make me feel a lot more normal.”

“Me, too,” said Vicky.

Madlyn resolved to enjoy the rest of her waffle. She heard a commotion and looked up. A gray cockatiel fluttered into the room and began flying in circles at ceiling level. Behind it came the most gorgeous male she’d ever laid eyes on. He looked like a movie star. He had dark blond wavy hair that he wore like a surfer. He was dressed in expensive clothes, and her boutique experience allowed her to recognize the pricey labels. The cleft in his chin and his healthy complexion and broad shoulders held her gaze hostage. She couldn’t stop staring.

Fortunately, he didn’t see her right away. But Vicky noticed her stare and turned to see what had captivated Madlyn so totally.

When he spoke, the gorgeous man’s baritone proved the perfect match for his physical perfection. “Pearl, you naughty girl, you come back here right now.”

The upright gentleman at the other table folded his paper and laughed. “She’s too much for you, eh?”

Gorgeous glared at the other man, but he didn’t really look angry. “Sorry. I took her up a piece of toast, and when I opened the door, she made a break for it.”

Vicky and Madlyn chuckled softly.

“Is she yours?” asked Madlyn.

Gorgeous glanced at her, looked away, then did a double take and stood transfixed.

The other man, a bit older and somewhat genteel, turned to respond. “She’s mine, actually. I’m afraid she’s quite unruly at times. Terribly spoiled, you see.”

Pearl squawked and found purchase on the rim of the doorframe. “Naughty bird!”

“Oh! She talks.” Madlyn was delighted. “Pretty bird.”

Pearl squawked and seemed to reply, “Don’t bore me to death.”

Vicky and Madlyn laughed. Madlyn noticed that the handsome creature she’d been admiring seemed to be staring at her now. She glanced down at herself, touched her hair, and wondered if she had whipped cream on her nose. She felt suddenly bashful.

Gorgeous spoke to her. “Hello.”

His tone of voice and the direction of his gaze made the other man turn and look as well. His eyes sparkled and he turned away, but not before the girls saw him smile.

Madlyn tried to say hi, but her vocal cords froze.

Vicky smiled. “Hello, how are you? I’m Vicky Darby, and this is my friend Madlyn Lake. We’re here for Maria’s wedding.”

The gorgeous man’s eyes never left Madlyn. “I’m Kirby,” he said. “You’ll be here for the week? At the B&B?”

Madlyn nodded shyly.

Vicky took charge. “I’m supposed to go to a luncheon at the Manse, but we have no car. Do you know if they’re sending someone to pick up the B&B crowd?”

Kirby’s sea-gray eyes lit up. “I could take you up. We have a car. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Brewster?”

Brewster stood up with great dignity. “I suppose it could be arranged.” He held a piece of scrambled egg in his hand and held it out. “Pearl? Breakfast.”

Pearl squawked and launched herself from the top of the door. She flew in a circle around the edges of the room, heading for the scrambled egg, and as she went, she made the sort of deposit that birds are known for. It landed on the front of Madlyn’s pale green blouse.

CHAPTER FIVE

M
adlyn squeaked with surprise and stood up abruptly as if she could back away from the gooey splotch.

“Oh, dear,” muttered Brewster. Pearl landed on his hand, and he gently clasped her feet between thumb and finger. She seemed oblivious to the chaos she’d created as she picked daintily at her scrambled egg.

Kirby was mortified. “I'm so sorry!” He grabbed a napkin. “Let me help.” At the last moment, he realized he couldn't touch the soiled spot without getting fresh with the target.

Madlyn took the napkin from his hand. “No worries. I'll go get cleaned up.” She dabbed carefully at the splotch. She thought of a hundred snarky comments about birds, but the proximity of Gorgeous George —
Kirby
, she corrected herself — kept her from letting fly with verbal revenge. Instead she turned to Vicky. “I think this is a bad omen. You go have fun with the bridesmaids, and I'll entertain myself here.”

“Are you sure?” Vicky's brows drew together. “It won't be as much fun without you.”

“Don't worry. I'm still worn out from our whirlwind travel day. I'll stay here and read. It's fine.” She turned away when she felt her eyes stinging with tears of embarrassment. She didn't want Kirby to see her all weepy eyed. Moving as gracefully as she could with one hand pulling her soiled blouse away from her body, she left.

Once back in the room, she busied herself with trying to save the blouse. She laid it in the bathroom sink, then picked a pale yellow mock turtleneck to wear in its stead. After several minutes of fussing over and rinsing out the white splotch, she sighed heavily and hung the result up to dry.

She stepped back and examined her handiwork. “Well, you'll either be wearable or you won’t,” she said matter-of-factly. “I guess I can replace you. But I love your bias hem and your perfect green color.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her features had settled into a pout. “Not very mature, Madz. It's just a blouse.”

She left the garment hanging in the bathroom and stood staring out the windows at the south end of the room. The green grass and spindly gray tree trunks didn't even do her the favor of staring back. The mist was lifting and the promise of weak sunshine perked up her spirits a bit.

“I bet the sun is shining in L.A.,” she said bitterly. She picked up her smartphone and tried to open the weather app. No luck. Zero bars. Nothing. It was a strange feeling. She used her phone for everything. Didn't people in Pawling use twenty-first century technology? She sighed like a martyr and turned on the TV. The weather channel verified her suspicions.