Hearts with Hope

Lelia M. Silver

 

Chapter 1

Heather checked the clock on the dashboard one more time, tapping her fingers impatiently as she waited for the light to turn green.

She was running late. Again.

It was a good thing her best friend was so patient. Not everyone would be so understanding, especially when she should have been at the reception hall an hour ago to help set up for Natalie’s engagement party.

The light turned green and she pressed her foot down hard on the accelerator.

She had gotten home after eight hours on her feet at the coffee shop and laid down for a tiny nap, fifteen minutes max, just so she’d be refreshed and ready to go for the party. The next thing she knew, it was half past five o’clock and her phone was vibrating with a slew of messages from Natalie, wondering where she was.

She took the turn into the parking lot on two wheels, praying there would be a spot nearby so she could rush right in.

Her peripheral vision picked up movement out of the corner of her eye as she started down the row and she slammed on her breaks as a car started backing out right in front of her.

It was too late. Her old, dented Toyota careened into the silver Mercedes with a sickening crunch.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Perfect. Just when she thought nothing else in her life could go wrong. Now she was going to have to call the insurance company and her rates would probably go up. She peeked an eye open to survey the damage. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Just a little scratch on the bumper or something.

The carnage that had been the tail end of the Mercedes told a different story. Either she had been going way faster than she thought she had been, or the other driver had been in a rush to back out.

She groaned and shut her eyes against the scene. She beat her head against the steering wheel. Why, why, why, did these things always happen to her? And at the most inconvenient times, too!

A knock against the window drew her out of her self-pity, but a glance at the man glaring at her through the glass only increased her misery.

Of course, she thought sardonically, he had to be the one I hit. She laughed without humor. Of all the people in the world, Shane was the last one she wanted to see standing at her door.

She rolled down her window, reluctantly, but he didn’t give her time to say anything before he launched into a long-winded diatribe about her psychotic driving skills.

Heather bristled, interrupting his monologue to object, “Me? You’re the one who backed into me because you were in too big of a hurry to look where you were going!” She eyed him with distaste. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be in New York City riding the subway or something?”

He was taken aback by her sudden attack on his person. Heather bit her tongue to hide her abrupt smile at the ridiculous look on his face, delighted to have shut him up for a moment. The man was an insufferable snob, even if he did have the most endearing dimples.

She put the car in park and got out to look at the damage to her car, hoping to press her advantage before he regained control of his tongue and went back on the offensive.

The back quarter panel of the Mercedes was dented in and the tail light was broken out, but she was relieved to find her old Toyota had survived the incident miraculously intact. She gave the old girl a pat on the hood, finding herself grateful that Shirley was practically indestructible. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle of a rental car in the foreseeable future.

Shane had finally managed to wrench his tongue back from the cat that had stolen it. He squared his shoulders as he followed her around the car. “For your information, I’m here for Jack and Natalie’s engagement party.” His chest puffed up with pride. “I’m the best man.”

Heather nearly choked on the bile that rose in her throat. Her mouth went dry and she had to swallow hard in order to force words out of her mouth. “You’re kidding me,” she croaked.

Shane enjoyed one brief, glorious moment of triumph at taking her unaware before the ashen tint of her cheeks raised all sorts of alarm bells in his head. He frowned. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed again as a wave of nausea rolled over her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Shane stepped back hastily. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

Heather glared at him, clutching her stomach. “No, you idiot! I’m the maid of honor.”

They stared at each other in mutual horror, shocked into silence for several long moments.

Finally, Shane managed to close his gaping mouth. The dawning understanding on his face did nothing to alleviate Heather’s dismay. “It’s a destination wedding.”

She nodded grimly.

“We’re going to have to go early to help set things up.” The reality of their situation seemed to be hitting him.

“And coordinate wedding showers and stamp envelopes and make wedding favors,” Heather added.

“All those things involve us working together.”

Heather was tempted to roll her eyes at his obvious statement. “No duh.”

He scowled at her. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I want this thing to go off without a hitch for Jack, so we should at least try to get along until it’s over with and we can both go our separate ways.”

Heather was outraged by his insinuation that she wouldn’t want the same thing for her best friend. She snapped, “Of course I want that, too! I’m going to make this the best wedding ever for Natalie.”

“Then we’re agreed. We’ll try to get along. For Jack and Natalie’s sakes.”

He stuck out his hand and she shook it firmly, enjoying his wince as she crushed his fingers under hers.

“For Jack and Natalie.” Her phone jingled in her pocket, startling them both. She jumped and fished it from her jeans. “Speak of the devil.” She waved her phone in his direction. “I’ve got to get in there before Natalie has an aneurysm. Take care of this mess. The keys are in the ignition and the insurance paperwork is in the glove box.” She ran off before he could stop her, leaving him sputtering in her wake.

“Insufferable minx,” he growled as she disappeared inside, stomping over to the heap of junk she called a car and climbing inside so he could move it out of the way.

Heather Watkins was a thorn in his backside. No matter how hard he tried to dig her out, she just buried herself deeper and deeper under his skin.

One wrong word spoken to her best friend without thinking had landed him on her blacklist. He admired her loyalty to Natalie, and her pluck in standing up to him, because she was just a little mite of thing and he wasn’t exactly a small guy. But, goodness gracious, the woman was irritating.

And now she’d ruined his brand new, wasn’t-even-paid for-yet Mercedes.

He wanted to wring her scrawny neck. But he couldn’t do that. At least not yet. He took a deep breath.

Remember Jack and Natalie.

He could do this. He could put up with Heather for his best friend’s sake. Jack had stood by him when his world was tumbling down around him and he couldn’t breathe for the crushing weight of the rubble. He could certainly handle one tiny blonde for a few months, even if she did have an attitude the size of Mount Rushmore.

He tried to ignore the doubt that crept into his mind, replacing it with determination. He was going to make sure Jack’s wedding was everything he and Natalie had ever dreamed of. He owed his friend that much.

He leaned over to fish in the glove box. Now where was that insurance paperwork she had mentioned? Her car might have survived their mishap with nary a scratch, but he was definitely going to need a rental car.

 

© 2014 All Rights Reserved Lelia M. Silver