The Last Man on Earth Page 24

  And on the congested streets of New York City, life continued at its usual frenetic pace. The wide-open vistas of Arizona blue skies were a distant memory. Yet not distant enough for Madelyn as she tried her best to forget.

  As the days ticked by, she buried herself deep inside a mountain of work and wedding preparations, diving into both tasks with an intense abandon that gratified some and concerned others.

  Her efforts on behalf of Carmichael Foods and the remainder of her accounts continued to garner praise. And although she compromised on the Giatta issue, she managed to do so in a way that satisfied the client while still preserving the integrity of her original ad campaign.

  In spite of her best efforts, she and Zack crossed paths with alarming frequency. In meetings. On the elevator. In the hallways. And once during an office birthday celebration when too many people crowded into the break room and shuffled the pair of them together, their bodies all but touching.

  Madelyn knew it was an untenable situation that could not continue indefinitely—at least for one of them.

  • • •

  “Take a deep breath and you’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, Madelyn, I’m so glad you’re here.” Peg rested her palm across her silk-covered stomach and drew a shivery lungful of air. “How do I look?”

  Madelyn angled back for a better view of Peg in her wedding attire—from the top of her carefully styled brunette curls and sheer veil to the bottom of her dainty, low-heeled white satin pumps. The dress itself was a triumph of unembellished elegance, a flowing white sheath with tiny spaghetti straps that displayed each line and curve of Peg’s splendid figure to perfection.

  “Radiant, that’s how you look,” Madelyn answered. “The most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen.”

  The bride gave her a needy smile. “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course I think so. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. You’re going to knock Todd’s socks off.”

  Peg’s smile widened. She fluttered a trembling hand in front of herself. “Look at me, I’m shaking. I don’t know why I’m so anxious. I mean, I’m happy. I’m really happy, but I’m terrified too. I love Todd so much. I can’t wait to be his wife. But what if I screw up my vows? What if I say my name wrong? Or his name wrong? What if I completely ruin the ceremony?”

  “You’re not going to ruin the ceremony. Everything will be fine. Just remember to breathe.”

  “Breathe,” Peg repeated to herself. “Breathe. I can do that. I can breathe.” She reached out suddenly and grabbed Madelyn’s hands. “Oh, just think, in only a few weeks this is going to be you. I’ll be an old married woman, tanned and gorgeous and still recovering my strength after three weeks of incredible honeymoon sex in the Bahamas, and it’ll be your turn to be terrified and happy all at the same time. Oh God, how much time’s left?”

  Madelyn reached into the tiny teal blue handbag that matched her bridesmaid’s dress and lifted out her watch. “Ten minutes. Your dad’s supposed to come and give us the signal.”

  “Oh, what a time to develop a nervous bladder. Tell Dad he’ll just have to wait. I’ll be back.”

  “We can’t start without you, so don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry,” Peg mumbled to herself as she rushed away, repeating the word “breathe” as she went.

  Madelyn returned her watch to her purse and thought about everything Peg had said, especially the part about being terrified and happy.

  She completely related to the terrified part. The closer her wedding date got, the more frantic she became. As for the happy, she kept telling herself she was, or at least that she would be. If only she didn’t feel as though she were acting in an odd, surreal play, cast in the role of the tragic heroine.

  Marrying James was the right thing to do, she assured herself. Once her actual wedding day was at hand, the second thoughts that jabbed at her like tiny needles would vanish. She would be content as his wife; she promised herself she would. And as for the guilt that seemed to continually eat away at her over her unfaithful night in Arizona, she vowed to find a way to make it up to him.

  Right now, though, she had her friend’s ceremony to see to; the rest she should put from her mind.

  Peg’s wedding went off without a hitch except for the flower girl—Todd’s four-year-old niece, Cicely—who grew tired in the middle of her walk up the aisle and plopped down where she stopped.

  After that bit of tension-breaking humor, the rest had been easy.

  Peg recited her vows in a clear, steady voice, all her earlier worries for naught. There were few with dry eyes left in the church by the time Todd slipped the ring onto his new wife’s finger, sealing his own vows with a kiss.

  Afterward, everyone converged outside to toss rice and best wishes at the bride and groom as the pair ran laughing to their limousine. It was decorated with streamers and aluminum cans, the words “Just Married” painted across the rear window.

  With the couple safely away, the guests disbanded to find their own path to the reception.

  Once there, Madelyn relaxed, tapping her toe to the upbeat tune played by the live band. She took a careful sip of champagne and watched the reception festivities around her. A cool stream of bubbles fizzed in her glass. She’d already decided this would be her one and only drink of the evening. She had no interest in leaving inebriated.

  One of Peg’s cousins, a lanky sixteen-year-old with too many hormones and not enough brains, was stalking guests with a video camera, claiming he was there to capture perfect candid wedding moments on film. So far all Madelyn had noticed him capturing were shots of attractive female guests.

  One pretty young bridesmaid in particular had been forced to seek temporary refuge in the ladies’ lounge. Another woman took her revenge by smacking him over the head with her purse when she realized he’d zoomed in on her breasts.

  With a signal to the band, the bridal couple—who’d arrived only a few minutes ago after a lengthy session with the wedding photographer—were urged to the dance floor.

  Time for the first dance.

  Madelyn set her wine on a nearby table as a slow ballad began. Lovely and romantic, the notes twined in the air like a bough of delicate wildflowers. A collective sigh of sentimental awes soughed from the onlookers as the couple circled slowly.

  Everyone watched as Todd murmured to his new wife, words meant only for her ears. An intimate answering smile parted her lips as Peg whispered back, their eyes meeting, joining, as they became lost in each other. Their love was shining like a beacon, clear for all to see.

  A swell of bittersweet happiness gripped Madelyn along with a fist of self-pity and envy. She stood for a long moment lost in despair. From behind, a pair of strong, familiar arms slipped around her waist.

  James pulled her snug against him as he leaned down to brush a kiss across her cheek. Awash in guilt for her unworthy thoughts, she crossed her arms over his and reached for his hands, squeezing them hard in silent recompense.

  She closed her eyes and tucked her head beneath his chin.

  “Just think,” he said quietly, “only six more weeks and that will be us, dancing at our own wedding.”

  “Yes, just think,” she sighed, watching the bridal couple complete a last few steps.

  Why? she thought. Why can’t I love him like that?

  The dance ended, guests clapped, then the band took up a new tune, inviting everyone to join in.

  “Dance with me,” she murmured, turning in his arms.

  “With profound pleasure, darling.” On nimble feet, James swept her across the ballroom floor.

  They danced the next two dances. By the end of a third, he had her laughing as they moved to a bit of fast-paced swing that left the pair of them breathless.

  “Whew, that was fun, but do you think our legs will forgive us tomorrow morning?” James led them off to the safety o
f the sidelines. “Especially after that last kick?”

  “I thought we tackled that last kick rather well. And you should learn to speak for yourself; my legs are fine.” She knew his legs were fine as well since they’d played two sets of doubles tennis last weekend with friends and he’d barely broken a sweat.

  “I agree, your legs are very fine. But,” he warned with mock seriousness, “after that workout, your muscles might need relaxing. How about a massage? You’re not eighteen anymore, you know.”

  “And neither are you. I’ll remind you who’s the older one here.”

  “Only by six months. And you know what they say.”

  She crossed her arms. “No, what do they say?”

  “Well, that women grow old, while men grow distinguished.”

  “Is that a fact? Then might I suggest you take your distinguished butt over to the refreshment table and bring this old woman a drink, preferably something soft. I’m thirsty.”

  “Your wish, as always, is my command.” He bowed and came up grinning. “What about food? Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat. Nothing too filling, though; I want a piece of wedding cake later.”

  “I’ll find something you like. I know all your favorites.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I won’t be long.”

  Madelyn drifted over to the table where she’d left her glass of champagne. Not surprisingly, it had vanished, cleared away by the top-notch catering staff Peg had hired on Laura Grayson’s recommendation.

  Madelyn’s parents were here somewhere, though at the moment she didn’t see them. After introducing Peg to her mother, Madelyn had been amusingly pleased to watch the two women bond like a pair of professional jewel thieves planning a master heist, no detail too small.

  If Madelyn had half that much enthusiasm for her own wedding arrangements, she knew her mother would have been ecstatic. Although lately she’d been trying hard to be involved, anything to keep her mind occupied, active. Even hand-addressing wedding invitations was preferable to dwelling on thoughts of the man who plagued her nights and haunted her dreams.

  To keep her mind off him now, she surveyed the room with lazy interest, absorbing the noise, appreciating the crowd. Her lips turned up at the edges as she watched a group of children skip, one after the other, around a circular table while they sang some silly nonsense song. Then her sights turned to a tiny white-haired matron who boldly shooed a huge, linebacker-size man out of his chair before calmly stealing his seat.

  Madelyn was debating the benefits of slipping into her own seat—the one reserved for her and other members of the wedding party and their dates—when she saw Zack. He was standing across the room looking as tall, dark, and devastating as ever.

  She’d known that Peg had invited him to the wedding. But when he hadn’t shown up at the church ceremony, she’d relaxed in the assumption that he wasn’t coming.

  Apparently, she’d relaxed too soon.

  He turned his head then, as though he’d heard her speak his name, and looked directly into her eyes.

  Madelyn tried to break the link and walk away, but her eyes refused to lower, her feet resisting as if locked in place. She sensed his own attempt to pull away and his own failure to succeed.

  A peculiar hum pulsed between her ears, a quiet rushing sound like a calm summer sea finding its way to shore. Her hands tingled. Her heart thundered. And in that instant the room dissolved into a mist, leaving only the two of them behind.

  Entranced, Madelyn took a single step toward him.

  “Here’s the food,” James declared. “I thought I’d never make it through the buffet line, it was so long.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  James’s return shattered the spell around her.

  Startled, Madelyn jerked and turned, her elbow catching him in the side.

  Unprepared for her move, James reacted instinctively, weaving in a desperate effort to keep from dropping the plates of food and the drinks he carried. He nearly managed the trick with no harm done until Madelyn reached out in her own instinctive attempt to help, and ruined his maneuver.

  Fizzy pink punch arced into the air, landing in a very large, very cold splash across the skirt of her dress.

  “Oh no. Meg, are you okay?” Carefully, James stepped to a nearby table to put down what was left of their meal, then quickly returned to her side.

  “Of course I’m okay,” she said, holding the sticky satin away from her skin. “It’s this dress that may never be the same.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re usually not so jumpy.”

  Remembering the reason for her jumpiness, Madelyn glanced at the spot where Zack had been standing, disappointed to see that he was gone.

  Actually, the accident had been providential. Who knew what foolish things she might have done if James hadn’t returned when he had. What glimpses of truth he might have witnessed in her eyes had he caught her staring at Zack. Heavens, she hoped no one else had noticed her moment of spellbound fascination.

  She darted a quick look around the ballroom, but no one was watching her, the party atmosphere running strong.

  “The music’s loud,” she explained, “and I didn’t hear you come up behind me. Don’t worry about it and don’t wait for me. Eat while I go try to rinse out some of this punch before it sets completely.”

  She found her way to the ladies’ lounge and armed herself with a handful of wet paper towels, her hands shaking slightly as she worked to blot out the stain. Diligent effort removed most of the punch, but her skirt ended up wetter than ever. Until it dried, there was no way she could return to the reception. Patiently, Madelyn held her skirt underneath the hand dryer. A few ladies passing through offered condolences and disaster stories of their own.

  By the time she pushed the door open and walked into the quiet corridor that led back to the main ballroom, she felt almost composed.

  Then she turned her head and saw Zack approaching from the direction of the cloakroom.

  His step slowed, his fingers falling from the buttons he’d been fastening on his long brown wool coat. Obviously he was leaving.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

  “I see you managed to repair the damage,” he remarked, nodding toward her dress.

  She looked down, noticing the massive water stain that hadn’t seemed nearly as bad in the ladies’ room. “The worst of it anyway.”

  “Good. Well, I’d better be going.” He hesitated. “Listen, Madelyn, I only came tonight because I didn’t want to offend Peg and Todd by not putting in an appearance. I had no intention of spoiling your evening.”

  “You haven’t. And you’re right—Peg especially would have been hurt if you’d stayed away. A lot of people from the office are here.”

  “Yeah. Linda Hernandez brought her kids. Did you see them?”

  “I did. They’re adorable.”

  She could barely breathe, she realized. He was too close. And his eyes, so beautiful, so green. She felt herself sink into them and knew she could gladly lose herself there forever.

  Ask me again, she wished. Ask me one more time and maybe my answer will be different. Tell me you want me to go with you now, she pleaded silently, and see if I don’t say yes.

  For an instant his lips parted, then closed again.

  He pulled on a pair of gloves. They smelled of leather and man. Of him.

  Madelyn inhaled deeply to catch the scent.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said, looking away. “I made my excuses ages ago.”

  She stepped back. “I need to go too. I told Peg I’d be there to watch her cut the cake.”

  After a moment, he nodded good-bye, then strode away.

  She watched until he disappeared around the far corner, then leaned against the wall for support.

  I can’t keep doing this.

&
nbsp; Seeing him at work, meeting him at parties and events like today’s wedding. Slowly, quietly, it was killing her, and it had to stop.

  • • •

  Zack had never known such a cold December, with a bite that cut clear through to the bone. It was the kind of chill he’d felt for weeks now, beginning that warm Arizona evening when he’d deliberately turned his back on his own happiness for the second time.

  More tired than he could ever remember feeling, he made the decision to take a few long-overdue vacation days. He chose a balmy locale, certain that a good dose of fun and sun would set him on the road to recovery. He’d relax, he’d sleep, he’d enjoy the sunny clime, and when it was all finished he would be able to return home with a renewed spirit and a healing heart.

  When he arrived, he found Sanibel Island, Florida, as gorgeous as it always was this time of year. White sand beaches, miles of blue sky piled atop miles of blue sea. Warm salt breezes, swaying palm trees, sun and sport, and enough bikini-clad eye candy to lure a Tibetan monk into the warm waters of temptation.

  By rights, he should have been having the time of his life, checking out the beach, or better yet, checking out the inside of a hotel room with any one of a dozen willing females.

  Instead he was miles away from Sanibel’s beach, seated in a rented beige Ford in the parking lot of an Episcopal church just outside Fort Myers.

  In his pocket, he fingered the invitation he’d received before leaving for vacation. Normally he would have pitched it in the trash the moment he slit open the envelope and saw what was inside. But for some odd reason, one he still didn’t understand, he’d tossed it into his briefcase, where the stupid thing had stayed before being added to his carry-on at the last minute.

  His mother, for the fifth unbelievable time, was getting married. And for some perverse purpose known only to her, she’d invited him to the ceremony and reception.

  What was it these days, he thought, with all these weddings? People had the common sense of moles, living in the dark and running around in circles, deluding themselves that marriage would make them happy. He knew better.