Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(33)
Author: Erin McCarthy

While everyone else in America had spent the day after Thanksgiving cashing in on all the Black Friday sales, Suzanne had been building storyboards of various wedding themes for Nikki. Using pictures of cakes and gowns, along with fabric samples of color palettes to display options, Suzanne had created eight very different, but all very elegant weddings for Nikki to choose from, knowing they were so tight on time at this point that a decision had to be made today or they might as well just book city hall and call it good.

Between working on the storyboards, worry that Nikki would throw another tantrum, and distracting thoughts about Ryder, Suzanne had gotten zero sleep and had the headache to prove it.

But Nikki, bless her little heart, was actually very seriously and quietly studying each one of the storyboards, sometimes making little sounds of pleasure, and occasionally reaching out to touch a fabric. Suzanne would actually feel somewhat proud and pleased if she had been able to focus her eyes. As it was, all she could think was maybe she’d given Nikki too many choices and would overwhelm her.

Fortunately, Nikki shifted to another board and her eyes lit up. She smiled, a sweet almost innocent smile. “Oh, Suzanne, this is beautiful. This is it.”

Suzanne perked up and managed to sit up straight, relieving her hand of its duty attempting to prop her suddenly abnormally heavy head up. “Which one?”

Sighing with pleasure, Nikki said, “Cinderella. It’s perfect. I’m beautiful like Cinderella . . . Jonas is totally Prince Charming. Our love is magic, and so our wedding should be, too.”

“Um-hmm,” Suzanne said, hoping that would pass for agreement. She was just so relieved that Nikki was pleased and had made a decision that she would listen to Nikki waxing poetic about her relationship for hours. Wait. She already had. And gotten a rundown on Jonas’s penile appearance. Yet she couldn’t ever quite manage to give their relationship the enthusiastic endorsement Nikki clearly wanted. All she could do was applaud her decisions that would move this wedding planning forward. Finally.

“That’s an awesome choice, Nikki. I’m sure you’ll be really happy with the way it turns out. And we can keep the same ballroom for the reception, we’ll just change the décor.”

“Great.” Nikki was still fondling the fabric for the gown, her face the picture of contentment. “The carriage you have on here is perfect. I should definitely arrive in a carriage.”

“And since it will be chilly, we’ll have a cape and muff made for you in white to match your gown.”

Nikki’s sigh was beatific, and when her fiancé walked in a moment later, she smiled at him. “I love you.”

It should have made Suzanne happy. Nikki wasn’t screaming or throwing things and she had made a decision she seemed thrilled with. Yet some small part of her was suddenly and quite appallingly jealous of Nikki’s look of love and devotion. Maybe, just maybe, Nikki and Jonas did actually give a shit about each other. Maybe—and Suzanne couldn’t believe she was even thinking it, but she was—maybe their marriage would work out.

Which meant Suzanne might as well just hang it up, because if those two knew more than she did she was in serious trouble.

Time to accept she was going to be alone forever.

The doorbell tinkled and Ryder walked in.

Christ.

She was too foggy to deal with him at the moment. Thanksgiving had ended with Ryder simply getting into his car and leaving, no mention of seeing her again or calling or anything. Not that she would have agreed to see him, but it just seemed like he should have tried. Maybe that was dumb, since she’d told him more than once during their night together that it wasn’t going to happen again, but still. The man should look a little more cut up about being denied future sex with her.

Instead, he had a very calm expression on his face as he said, “Hey, Suz, what’s up?”

What was up was her hackles. She was exhausted, Ryder was blowing her off, and Nikki had found the secret to happiness. It was not a combination designed to make her feel good about herself and life, and she was starting to wonder if she hadn’t chosen someone who sucked as a husband maybe she would actually still be married.

Not that that was remotely fair or true, but in her current mood it felt wonderful and liberating to blame everything on Ryder.

“What are you doing here?” she said, trying to ignore the fact that Nikki and Jonas were rubbing noses.

“Nice to see you, too. I came to help Jonas taste cakes. Nikki doesn’t want to actually eat any of the cake and she wanted a second opinion.”

“I could have given you another opinion,” Suzanne told Nikki, who was gazing blissfully at the images of a Cinderella wedding in front of her.

“Oh, you shouldn’t be eating cake,” Nikki told her. “Especially at your age. Not even Pilates will help.”

She would not say what she was really thinking . . . Suzanne dug her nails into the denim of her jeans and kept her lips clamped shut.

“Suzanne can eat all the cake she wants, she’s smoking hot,” Ryder said.

That was kind of sweet. Suzanne felt sort of bad for irrationally blaming the horrific state of her life on him.

Nikki didn’t respond to that. She just said, “So can this bakery do this cake?” She held up the image Suzanne had found of a four-tier cake in pink fondant, a glass slipper on top, and crystal wheels on either side of the cake, creating an elegant illusion of a carriage.

“Yes, I’m sure they can do something similar. Let me tell the baking consultant that we’re ready for our appointment.” And she might just tell the baker that the bride was a bitch. So much for Nikki’s earlier brief moment of sweet complacency.

Ryder hovered along beside her. “Don’t listen to Nikki,” he murmured. “She’s anorexic. You look amazing.”

“My self-esteem is fine, but thanks, I do appreciate your concern.” She also appreciated his penis. A little loopy from lack of sleep, Suzanne added, “But I’ll give you five bucks if you wave a piece of cake in her face.”

“Are you crazy? I’ll end up with it crammed up my nostrils.” Ryder stopped at the counter with her, his fingers automatically reaching out for a display of cupcakes before he stopped himself.

Amused by his transparent sweet tooth, Suzanne glanced around for a bell to ring for the consultant and said, “I did offer five bucks, and trust me, that’s hard to come by these days.”

“Is this stuff cash and carry?” he asked, scanning the glass case in earnest now.