The Right Choice(19)
Author: Carly Phillips

All those young kids abandoned because their mothers had sat in the front of the bus while they played in the back. The luck of the draw, something Mike had also seen too many times before. All the carnival food he’d eaten with Carly threatened to come back up.

Over the next few weeks he was sidelined with his injury. He’d used the time to help track down the kids’ fathers or other living relatives. Most had already been killed. All those children, orphaned like Mike and Peter. And though his boss had ordered him back to the center of the conflict once the doctors gave him a clean bill of health, Mike had bailed out instead.

He’d left mid-assignment, hopping the first plane back to the States. Three weeks early for his brother’s wedding… or just in time, depending on one’s place in this awful triangle, he thought wryly.

He glanced down at the camera in his hand, a piece of equipment that felt as comfortable as his own skin. At that moment, Mike knew. No matter what memories or doubts haunted him, he’d be facing them sooner rather than later. When his boss called—and he would—Mike wouldn’t hesitate. Though Dom had finally given in on the extended leave issue, he swore that the next hot story was Mike’s. Mike trusted his boss and friend not only to give him the time he needed, but to drag his butt back out there as soon as he could afterward. It would be the push he needed to return.

He’d be going back to the only life he knew. Carly’s face flashed in front of his eyes. But in facing his past, he’d be leaving her behind… and exchanging one set of painful memories for another.

FIVE

Five days and no word from Mike. With her wedding a little over a week away, Carly knew she ought to feel relieved. Life went on, and Peter had even managed to get out of work early one night and take her for dinner. A sure sign things were looking up. If one believed in signs. These days Carly took any good omen she could get.

She put the finishing touches on her last column before summer repeats began and hit the print button. She’d drop the printout at Juliette’s later in the week. Glancing at her watch, she realized she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer and headed uptown for her fitting. Since she hadn’t been in touch with Mike, she hoped she could safely assume she was on her own.

She entered the bridal showroom where she’d purchased her gown, grateful the place wasn’t crowded. With a little luck, this would be over in no time. Minutes later, the salesgirl who had taken her name reappeared with a long garment bag draped over her arm. One glance at the zippered bag and Carly’s stomach did a nervous flip. Before the salesgirl could lead Carly back to the fitting room, she was paged to the front of the store.

She smiled apologetically and hung the gown from a hook on the side wall. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.” Alone, Carly stared at the white bag, her stomach fluttering nonstop. Inside was the dress she’d wear when she married Peter. When she became Mrs. Peter Novack. When her life changed forever.

She pushed aside the nagging knowledge that something was terribly wrong. Since the fateful day she’d met Mike on the street, a tiny seed of doubt had taken root. She’d denied it, starved it, but it wouldn’t go away. Now wasn’t the time to examine it too closely. Once Mike was gone, life would return to normal. Safe, calm and peaceful.

She fingered the engagement ring, thinking of the wedding bands they’d chosen. Make that the bands Peter had chosen. She’d explained her feelings, but Peter had held firm. Despite her protests and explanations that stopped short of outright pleading, he’d been adamant. Had she broken down and cried, Peter would have succumbed in an instant, but she refused to resort to feminine manipulation to get her way. Obviously Peter’s reasons meant more to him than she’d realized. For the sake of peace and Peter’s happiness, she’d compromised. Again.

The one thing about this wedding that hadn’t been a compromise lay in that bag.

“Go ahead and take a peek.”

Carly whirled around to face Mike. “You startled me.” She placed a hand over her chest in a futile effort to calm her rapidly beating heart. “What are you doing here?”

“We had a date.” Mike lifted one eyebrow, as if daring her to dispute his statement.

“I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“I try to honor my commitments,” he said with complete sincerity.

She chose to ignore that comment. “How’d you find me?”

He leaned against the wall and grinned. His smile had the ability to stop her heart each and every time. She ground her teeth hard. “Well?”

“One phone call and a very efficient secretary. Did you ever think of giving her a raise?”

“Don’t look so smug.”

“And don’t you look so unhappy. You know you’re glad to see me.”

She couldn’t hide her smile. “Your ego astounds me.”

“Can I have a look?” he asked, walking over to the garment bag. He reached for the zipper.

She smacked his hand. “Let me.” With Mike staring from behind, she felt shy about looking at the dress she’d be wearing to wed another man. She bit her lower lip and gingerly unzipped the bag.

Reaching inside, she withdrew the material, gaping at the gown in shock. “It’s pink.”

Mike stepped back to appraise the dress and let out a long, approving whistle. “Nice,” he murmured his gaze taking in the scooped neckline and intricate beading.

“It’s pink.” Her hand gripped his arm and her fingernails dug into his skin.

“I admit it’s a surprise.” And not just for him, Mike thought, judging by the horrified look on Carly’s face. “You ordered white.” Not a difficult guess.

After his brother’s slip a few days before, Mike realized Carly was truly innocent. Not that most brides didn’t wear white regardless, but Carly had maintained the right. Forget what Peter’s reaction would be to his bride walking down the aisle in anything but traditional white, she deserved to have her first choice. After all her compromising, she shouldn’t have to give in on something as important as her wedding gown.

He turned toward her, startled to see tears running down her face. “Hey,” he said, brushing at the drop of moisture with his thumb. “I’m sure this can be fixed.” He hoped.

“It’s an omen.”

“Come on, you don’t believe in that stuff.” He, on the other hand, agreed wholeheartedly.