Page 52 of Always a Bridesmaid

Well, this was turning bad very quickly. Elle would never be rude to a guest, but Jane was a take-no-shit spitfire, just like her mom. And her inner Jane was coming out to play.

“I’m sure it was an oversight,” he said with a charm she was sure worked on women all the time. But it didn’t work on her. She knew what kind of man he was. Henry had tried to tell her, but now she was listening.

“Maybe or maybe not. But I want to remind you that tonight is about Sarah, and she’d be heartbroken if she knew you’d come here to grow your LinkedIn following.”

He pretended to be aghast, but she saw the guilt lurking beneath those brown eyes. “I’m here for my daughter and nothing else.”

“Great. Then stop handing out cards and asking people for introductions. And I swear to god, if you ask Henry for a handout, I will personally kick you out myself.”

Blustering and puffing, he said, “Who the hell are you to threaten me?”

“She’s the bloody bridesmaid,” Henry said from beside them, and dang if her heart didn’t leap into her throat.

They both turned to look, and in a single glance Jane’s tongue went as dry as the Sahara, which was the exact opposite of what was happening down south. Henry was looking tall, dark, and deliciously dangerous in dark gray slacks, a blue button-down, and gray tie that made her think of just how handy it would come in if she had access to a bed post. But it was the fierce protectiveness in the set of his jaw that had the oxygen leaving her lungs in one whoosh.

“Henry,” Will said with a nervous smile. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

“That’s clear.” Two words, but that was all it took for everyone in the conversation to know that it was over. “The water taxi is on standby over there.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Deadly.”

“I haven’t even said hi to your sister.”

“No, you’ve been too busy trying to kiss every industry ass in here. She invited you tomorrow, so you can come tomorrow. But if I see you speaking with a single person from my world, I will toss you out myself.”

“Son…”

“It’s Henry, and you’ve overstayed your welcome. So do what you do best and walk away.”

They both watched Will walk through the crowd and Henry didn’t stop watching until his father exited the ballroom. Jane’s heart broke for the man who still carried the scars from childhood, and the little boy who was left behind by the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally.

Jane had lost her father too, but he hadn’t had a choice. Henry’s father had. He’d chosen to leave his family behind, knowing that his son would have to grow up too fast. Shesupposed that their mutual loss was what initially drew them together, but it was their lost souls, still searching for a safe place to call home, that held them together like magnets in a storm.

She rested a hand on Henry’s arm and turned to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just don’t get how a father could do this to his own daughter.” His voice was so thick with emotion, it sounded like crushed stone. “Why would he come at all? There are easier ways to kiss ass in this industry.”

“My mom is a lot like your dad when it comes to advancement,” she admitted, giving away another Jane Fun Fact. “She just can’t help herself when a professional opportunity presents itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“At my thirteenth birthday, we’d just moved to Japan for her work, and I didn’t really know anyone. I didn’t want a party. It had been the first move after losing my dad and inviting a bunch of strange kids over didn’t sound fun. But she insisted that it would be rude for someone at her level not to host a party for her daughter, so she invited the kids of every higher-up that went to my middle school, regardless if they were in my class.”

It had also been the start of her first tale about the great Frank Pearce. When one of the kids asked where her dad was, she knew the looks and pity that would follow, and not wanting to relive that over again at her new school, Jane had said he worked for the DOD on classified projects and was at the White House giving a briefing.

She remembered just how enrapt the kids became. They didn’t ask her how he died or if she was in the car with him or how gory it was, they said her dad was cool in a hero-worship tone that her dad deserved. Because he might not have been a spy, or a rocket scientist, or Taylor Swift’s roadie, but he was the coolest dad ever.

“That sounds rough.”

“No rougher than what you’re going through. Hell, what you went through. I mean, it must have been so hard when your mom told you that he wasn’t coming back.”

“She didn’t tell us. My dad told me about the job in Spain and handed me the responsibility to tell the family. He wrote a letter to my mum, but it was up to me to tell my sisters.”

A complicated knot of professional obligation and personal protectiveness tightened in her stomach, making her wish she’d forced Sarah to come clean with Henry about her and her dad’s relationship. As of now, all he knew was that she’d invited him to the wedding, not that they’d been in communication for the past few years.

Once again, Jane found herself torn.

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