Page 53 of Conflict
ANOTHER WELLINGTONbites the dust.
I’m sipping on my scotch while watching Knox and his new bride make their rounds and greet guests in the intimate backyard of the Wellington Mansion.
The past two months have been a whirlwind of activity for the Wellington men. Cohen found the self-proclaimed love of his life. Branson was mending the rift with his family and then was in a terrible car accident. I’d meant to find time to visit him, but with the Filiatrault merger chase in full swing, it was hard to get out of the office. Plus, Aunt Amelia had cryptically told my mother that Branson needed space.
And just a few moments ago, Knox pledged his life and his love to Charlie Davenport, a feisty woman I’ve only met a handful of times, yet I already know she’ll keep him on his toes.
Just as I’m about to go find Cohen and harass him about the cute redhead who hasn’t left his side, I feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turn, Branson’s standing there, his arm hooked around the waist of a petite woman with dark-brown hair swept up into some fancy hairdo. My eyes narrow, taking in the all-too-familiar sight of her. Realization dawns, and this time, my eyes widen.
It’s her.
Branson doesn’t seem to notice my incredulity, but Ariana Covington, Alyssa’s sister, Cunningham’s runaway bride, blushes with awareness.
I’m so not drunk enough for this.
“Shane, I want to introduce you to someone.” Branson gazes down at the woman on his arm, his eyes full of delight. Happiness. I haven’t seen him like this since…well, ever. “This is Ariana, my fiancée.”
I nearly choke on my whiskey. “Your what?” I ask, wondering if I heard him wrong. Ihadto have heard him wrong.
Sure, Benjamin and I don’t run in the same circles, and my paths crossed even less with Ariana, but everyone knows about her running out of him and canceling the wedding at the last minute. How in the hell is she now engaged to my cousin?
Just as I’m about to ask, Ariana clears her throat. She holds her left hand up, showing off one hell of a rock. “You heard correctly. His fiancée. Hi, Shane. It’s nice to see you again.”
Now, it’s Branson’s turn to look confused. With knitted eyebrows, he glances back and forth between the two of us. “Again? You’ve met before?”
Ariana rests a hand on his chest, giving him a charming smile. “Shane’s a friend of Alyssa’s.”
This time, I actually do choke on my whiskey. Then I shoot her a puzzling look. Her sister’s mentioned me? Interesting.
She continues. “We don’t know each other well, but our circles in Atlanta cross paths from time to time. How do you two know each other?”
I almost laugh at the relief on Branson’s expression. “Shane’s my cousin. Wow. What a small fucking world.”
Ariana laughs. “Shane Wellington. Of course. I’m not sure how I never put it together. That’s who you were visiting last winter when we met?”
Last winter?
And, suddenly, it’s clear. Ariana, the mystery woman who was engaged at the time. The angel in Branson’s hotel room the night he’d come to visit, not knowing I was out of town.
So the night Ariana wassavingBranson, I was taking her sister’s virginity.
Small fucking world, indeed.
Branson’s oblivious to the awkward exchange. He pulls Ariana in closer and then narrows his eyes at me. “I thought I was your favorite cousin, Shane. What the hell? All I got was a measly get-well card from your secretary.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, if I’d have known you were shacking up with your fiancée, maybe I would’ve found the time to get out of the office. Things have been crazy busy this summer and I couldn’t get away. But for this? I’d have made the trip. When exactly did this happen?” I ask, waving his hand between the two of them.
They look to each other, and for a split second, I wonder what’s so scandalous that one of them can’t just spit it out. This whole thing is odd, and with how Branson’s last marriage went, I can’t imagine him getting attached so quickly again. Especially to some woman he hardly knows. A woman who, two months ago, was planning her wedding to another man.
Before Branson can explain, Amelia comes over to steal him away, letting him know that it’s time for the wedding party to be formally introduced.
He gives his woman an apologetic smile and then a kiss. “See you in a bit, baby,” he whispers.
I give Branson a nod and then wait until he’s out of earshot before turning back to Ariana, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this is. “What the hell, Ariana? Alyssa said you were holed up somewhere and you were fine, but here with Branson? And engaged? What about Ben?”
Okay, so Alyssa didn’t exactly tellmethat, but word has gotten around. But if Ariana thinks I’m close to her sister, maybe she’ll be truthful with me.
She glances around then pulls me by my arm to the edge of the backyard as if she wants to have this conversation in private. “Alyssa’s been covering for me since I left Atlanta. I didn’t want anyone to know where I was. And as far as Ben goes, there’s nothing to tell. I called off the wedding. It’s over between us.”
