Page 19 of The Jellybean Dilemma

You’re not who I thought you were. I clenched my hands into fists just to grip something, desperately needing him to leave. “Please. Just let me rest.”

Silence reigned for several long moments, then his footsteps faded. I waited another minute to be sure I was alone before sitting down on my lonely pedestal and giving into my tears.

Chapter Six

I managed to not be splotchy by the time Greg tapped on my door, telling me dinner was ready. The clothes I’d arrived in were suitable, but I’d changed out my earrings and touched up my makeup. He greeted me with a tentative smile. I returned it with a closed lipped one of my own, keeping my demeanor cool. A flash of disappointment flew across his face, gone so quickly I doubted I’d even seen it.

When he offered me his arm at the top of the stairs, I didn’t want to reject him. We still had a show to put on. So I looped my hand through, resting my hand on top of his forearm as we descended. His family waited at the bottom of the stairs, the chatter quieting as we drew near. I donned my familiar charitable smile, feeling it turn genuine when Mandy grinned back in giddy excitement.

As soon as my foot touched the main floor, she raced over. “Rhonda, this is my fiancé, Peter. Peter, this is Rhonda Elgin. Her family owns the Great Lakes Shipping Company. She’s practically Michigan royalty, and not only is she coming to our wedding, she’s dating my brother!”

I was surprised she didn’t bounce up and down with the excitement exuding from her. I turned, holding out my hand to Peter. “A pleasure to meet you.”

He clasped my hand and gave a polite nod. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Julie touched Mandy’s shoulder, calming her daughter instantly. Gesturing to the man next to her, Julie said, “And this is my husband, Daniel Peterson.”

The stiff, gruff man who stood before me was like night and day compared to his excited puppy of a daughter. My smile almost faltered in his domineering presence, but I held it, and my chin, in place. “Thank you for having me, sir.”

He just dipped his head in my direction then arched an eyebrow at his wife.

Julie swept out an arm toward the dining room. “Dinner is ready, so let’s be seated, shall we?”

Her more formal manner grated on me, and I knew her behavior had changed because of Greg’s dad. He seemed like a stickler for formality and routine. I wondered how it had been growing up with him as a father, marveling that Greg turned out as decent as he had.

The table was all set. We took our seats with Mr. Peterson at the head, of course. The cook brought out dish after dish of heavenly smelling food fit for a feast—a whole turkey, its skin golden brown, and already carved, a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes with a carafe of gravy, a steaming bowl of winter veggies and a basket of fluffy rolls. My mouth watered.

I watched Peter and Mandy as we passed around the dishes of food. They could barely keep their hands off each other, and I loved the way his midnight skin contrasted with her tanned tones when their fingers entwined on the table. His grin lit up the room, a contagious joy emanating from him.

Conversation ebbed and flowed. Mr. Peterson grunted when asked a direct question, otherwise, Julie steered the topics to include everyone. Even me.

“What’s the agenda for the rest of the week?” I asked Mandy after our plates were cleared, and we waited for dessert. “Of course, the wedding is Saturday. Greg told me of other events, but we were unsure of specifics.”

Uncertainty drenched Mandy’s face as she nibbled at her lip. “Well, I’m having a bridal shower two days from now, but I wasn’t positive you’d want to come.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I’d love to, if it’s not an inconvenience.”

She beamed before giving Greg a dirty look. “See,” she hissed, “I told you she’d want to come.” Then she focused back on me. “Friday night is the bachelorette party, which of course you’re welcome at. And yes, Saturday is the wedding.”

She gave Peter’s hand a squeeze. As she turned, I studied her profile, comparing her to Greg. Her eyes were bluer, and her sandy brown hair was longer, but the same color. I saw similarities in their face structure. Both their parents were tall, but thankfully they’d inherited their mother’s nose. It would’ve been a whole different picture if Mr. Peterson’s beak had been the dominant feature.

I started yawning way too soon. My nap had lasted me this long, but I was fading fast. I stood, making my excuses for my early departure. “My apologies. I think I need to retire for the evening. Feel free to stay, though, I know you have some catching up to do.”

With a smirk telling me he knew exactly what he was doing, Greg tilted his chin up for a kiss as I walked by his armchair. I couldn’t ignore him without looking like a dick. I hesitated, steeling myself before I leaned down, my lips brushing his stubbled cheek.

His eyes locked on mine, intense and heated. “Good night,” he whispered.

I walked upstairs to the amused murmurs of his family, disgusted I hadn’t found a way out of the kiss. A hint of peppermint lingered in my nose, just from being so close to him.

What would it be like to really kiss him?

I chided myself, reminding my body Greg wanted us for status and nothing more. There would be no kissing for the foreseeable future.

* * * *

Sleep came right away, and I slept hard, safe in the glow from the sitting room light that peeked in through my cracked door. Sometime later, I woke up, needing to use the bathroom. When I opened my eyes, absolute darkness surrounded me. No sitting room light, no alarm clock. Not even a hint of moonlight gave me reprieve from the total blackness.

Frantic, I reached for the end table. I always plugged my phone in, just in case the lights went out.

---