Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [4]
“Maybe he just got a case of cold feet,” Megan said. “He could still come back.”
“And when he does, I’ll beat the crap out of him,” Jeff growled.
Faith would have thought that her fiancé would be smart enough to figure out that dumping her at this late date meant there was no place he could hide. Not even Bali. Her father would track him down and make him pay . . . big time.
Only one person was more imposing than Jeff West, and that was Aunt Lorraine, who was now trying to push her way back into the room.
“Get rid of her,” Faith begged her parents.
“Gladly,” her dad said. “Do you think I haven’t wanted to make her disappear for years now? But your mother would never let me.”
“She’s my much older sister,” Sara said apologetically. “She practically raised me.”
“And she scares you shitless,” Jeff said. “Believe me, I get it.”
“She implied it was my fault Alan left,” Faith said. It turned out the Duchess of Grimness was right. According to Alan’s brief text message, it was obvious that he blamed Faith for being too dull for him.
“Your fault? That does it.” Sara glared at Lorraine, who was still trying to get in the room but was prevented by Megan. “She’s gone too far this time.” A curtain of fierce determination fell over Sara’s face. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle her.” She marched over and moved Lorraine out of the room.
Watching her mother’s totally uncharacteristic behavior, Faith realized anything was possible. Anything but her wedding. There was no saving that now.
“What are we going to do?” Faith asked her dad. “All those people are out there waiting. We’ve got the wedding reception at the Ritz-Carlton. You paid so much for everything.” Tears welled again, but she dashed them away. Alan had said there were only a handful of people he wanted to invite. His parents were dead, and he had no other close family. Since almost all of the guests were from her side of the family, Alan had been perfectly happy to have Jeff foot the bill, and her dad had done so with boatloads of paternal pride.
Again, what would Jane Austen do? She would take control.
“Tell the people in the church that due to circumstances beyond our control, the ceremony has been canceled,” Faith said. “Tell them the reception is still on. Don’t cancel it. You might as well enjoy it.”
“That’s my girl,” her dad said. “We’ll get our money’s worth as a celebration of friends and family. And it makes good business sense, since a lot of West Investigations’ top clients are also in the audience and will be at the reception.”
“Are you nuts?” her mom said, having rejoined them in time to hear Faith’s request.
“Probably,” Faith muttered.
“I was talking to your father.” She turned to face him. “Your daughter is suffering, and all you can do is talk about business and money?”
“I could put out a hit on Alan,” Jeff growled, “but I’m restraining myself.”
“I know people who could do the job,” Faith’s paternal grandmother spoke up for the first time. Her blue eyes and high cheekbones proclaimed her Scandinavian heritage, while her gelled spiky haircut revealed her rebel nature. “They’re in the Swedish mob.”
Jeff frowned. “I never heard of the Swedish mob.”
“Of course not. They’re very discreet. Not like the Finnish mob.”
“I appreciate the offer, Gram, but it’s not necessary,” Faith said.
“Well, if you change your mind, the offer stands,” Gram assured her.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.” She patted Faith’s hand. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”
“Thanks.” She took a deep breath but felt the walls closing in on her. “Listen, you guys don’t have to stay with me. Go on to the reception, and please give everyone my regrets, but I just can’t . . .” She shook her head, unable to go on.
“You have nothing to be regretful about,” her mom said.
“Except regret at ever hooking up with Alan the Asshole to begin with,” her dad said.
“Are you sure you want us to go?