Jilt Trip. HEATHER MACALLISTER
Читать онлайн книгу.
empty dry-cleaning bags and various wrappings on the ancient sofa, located the best man’s boutonniere and removed the plastic. The carnation was still fresh. “Hold this.” He handed the flower to Bob, unpinned his own and thrust it at Nikki. “Pin that on Saunders, would you?”
“But…you can’t still be going through with the wedding after what we’ve discovered?”
“Careful with that,” Carter advised himself as he pinned on the fresh carnation. Saunders should be doing this. Or Nikki.
“There’s something else,” Nikki added with an edge of desperation in her voice.
When Carter heard it, he felt a surge of pride. Their concern for his company went far beyond that of mere employees. They considered it their company, too.
However, he reminded himself abruptly, it wasn’t their company and this nonsense had to stop. “Later.”
“No!” Nikki gripped his arm on one side, Saunders on the other.
“Hey! You’ll wrinkle my jacket.”
“Carter.” Bob opened more folders. “Karrenbrock Ventures owns Lacefield Foods. Two weeks ago, Lacefield bought stock in Belden Industries.”
That caught his attention. “Let me see that.” Carter took the folder from his chief accountant and scanned the information. Sighing, he handed it back. “It isn’t much.”
“Not by itself,” Bob admitted. “But I suspect that more of the companies in these files are subsidiaries of Karrenbrock Ventures.”
“It’s a bad time to be signing away ten percent of your holdings,” Julian said.
Carter studied the faces of his trusted employees and friends. Julian, his executive vice president, the unflappable connoisseur of art and women. Bob, the balding accountant. The always-anxious Saunders, and Nikki…
She held her body stiffly and had a death grip on the files. There was something in her expression that went beyond concern for the welfare of Belden Industries. Carter stared at her the longest, compelled by the intensity of her gaze and the…panic? That didn’t make sense. It was as if she was willing him to postpone his wedding.
A smile of regret pulled at his lips. Our time has come and gone, kid. If they’d been alone, he would have said it aloud.
Addressing the group, he asked, “So, on the basis of one company’s buying an insignificant amount of stock, you want me to call off my wedding?”
Everyone looked at one another. Nikki spoke.
“Just postpone it until we can determine exactly how much stock Karrenbrock controls and through what companies.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
She shook her head. “He’ll make his move on Monday, while you’re on your honeymoon. By the time you figure out what’s happened, it’ll be too late to counter.”
“That’s absurd.” But he could tell the others agreed with her.
“No, it’s perfect,” she persisted. “Who’d suspect it?”
“He’s going to be my father-in-law!” Carter stared at them. Obviously, Nikki had managed to convince everyone to see things her way. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that to me?”
Julian shrugged. “Probably because he can.”
“Karrenbrock is ruthless, but humiliate his daughter’s husband?” Carter shook his head. “Dee Ann would never forgive him.”
“She’s probably in on it,” Nikki retorted.
Carter felt like ripping their papers apart. Instead, he gripped the edge of the podium. “You’re angry because I’m giving her ten percent, aren’t you?”
“You’re still vulnerable, even without giving Dee Ann ten percent,” she replied.
“I did advise against selling stock to finance that oil drilling project,” Bob piped up in an I-told-you-so tone.
“And I relayed your concerns to Carter,” Nikki assured him, “along with my own.”
Bob addressed Carter. “Perhaps she didn’t emphasize—”
Carter glared him back into silence.
“The minister’s coming,” Julian said seconds before Reverend Royer sailed into the room.
“Mr. Belden…and best man?”
“Here!” Saunders stepped forward, holding the battered carnation.
“Saunders!” Nikki hissed.
“Let’s go.” Carter moved forward.
“Carter!” Nikki shrieked.
Everyone froze.
Nikki had gone white, and her freckles stood out like the cinnamon on Carter’s morning cappuccino. She hadn’t accepted that he was marrying Dee Ann. His heart twisted for her.
“Could we have a few more minutes?” he asked the minister.
“Young man.” Reverend Royer inhaled deeply. “Miss Karrenbrock is waiting in the vestibule with her bridesmaids. The organist has repeated “Sheep May Safely Graze” no less than five times. Miss Hicks is bemoaning a melting ice sculpture and the candles are beginning to drip. May I suggest you conduct your business at a later time?”
Carter gritted his teeth. “Why don’t you start without me, then?” He heard a strangled sound from Nikki’s direction and didn’t dare look at her.
“I’ll be praying for you in the antechamber.” Reverend Royer piously withdrew.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Carter rounded on Nikki. “I’ve insulted a man of God!”
“Nikki,” Saunders began, “just tell—”
She held up her hand. “If—if you’re determined to go through with this marriage—”
“I am.”
“Then I’d like to propose a toast,” she announced. Julian handed her a bottle of champagne. The cork had already been popped.
“You have all lost your minds,” Carter said in amazement.
Saunders solemnly produced paper cups and handed him one.
“You can’t seriously think I’d greet my bride with alcohol on my breath!” No one met his eyes. “It’s not even a good vintage.”
“Well, she didn’t want to ruin—ow!” Julian broke off.
“Sorry.” Nikki, the bottle shaking slightly, poured a little champagne into each cup. When she reached Carter, she filled his to the brim.
“So is this your new plan?” He tapped the cup. “Get me drunk and I won’t go through with the wedding?”
Everyone stared at his own cup.
They were so transparent, Carter thought. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Gazing at them defiantly, Carter held his cup aloft. “To Dee Ann Karrenbrock, may she prove you all wrong.” He drained his cup in a single gulp. The domestic champagne tasted even worse than he’d expected. It wasn’t like Julian to select something so inferior.
Didn’t Julian, one of his best friends, think Carter’s bride was worth a toast with the finest champagne?
Lowering the cup, Carter was immediately aware that no one had drunk with him. His face heated with anger at the insult.
His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you going to propose a toast to my happiness, N-Nikki?” His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Nasty vile stuff. He thrust out his cup, anyway.
Nikki clutched the bottle so tightly, her knuckles were