HEATHER MACALLISTER

Can't Buy Me Love


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      1

      WHEN ALEXIS O’HARA ARRIVED at the Inn at Maiden Falls, Colorado, for her wedding and encountered an ex-boyfriend also checking in, she gave him a cool I’m-looking-good-and-aren’t-you-sorry-you-dumped-me smile. When he informed her he was representing her fiancé in the pre-nup negotiations, she did what any successful, independent, modern woman did when faced with the unthinkable: she called her mother.

      Abandoning her luggage in the center of a lovely Aubusson rug as soon as she got to her room, Alexis stared unseeingly out the window at the gorgeous Rocky Mountain vista, cell phone pressed to her ear. “Mom?”

      “You’ve changed your mind,” Patty O’Hara said flatly.

      “No! Why do you keep assuming that every time I call?”

      “Oh, I don’t know—maybe the week-long engagement to a man I’ve never before heard you mention in a romantic context?”

      “This isn’t that sort of marriage.”

      “What sort of marriage is it?”

      Alexis began to speak, fully intending to extol the virtues of compatibility, admiration and shared interests, but heard herself say, “It’s an I’m-tired-of-dating marriage.”

      “Oh, one of those. I thought it was an old-fashioned marry-an-old-guy-for-his-money marriage.”

      Alexis gritted her teeth, then craftily pointed out, “He’s fifty-four. That’s only two years younger than you. Are you saying you’re old?”

      “I’m saying I’ve been married to a fifty-four-year-old man and I know what it’s like.”

      She was talking about Alexis’s father. Alexis preferred not to think of her father in that context. “But you haven’t been married to a rich fifty-four-year-old man.”

      There was silence.

      “Mom?”

      “I was giving you time to think. You’ve been rushing around like a madwoman and I know you haven’t fully considered what you’re doing.”

      “I had plenty of time to think on the plane.” Actually, she’d fallen asleep on the plane. Missed the honey peanuts and everything. “I’m not changing my mind.”

      “I’m still not cutting the tags off my dress until I have to walk to my seat.”

      “Mom.” Alexis pressed the area between her eyebrows.

      “Alexis, as with any mother, I just want you to be happy. Now, I know you didn’t call to argue and I’m in the middle of packing. What’s up?”

      “Dylan’s here.” Alexis was proud that her voice sounded calm and matter-of-fact.

      “Do I know her?”

      “Him.”

      “Well, you never know these days with one-size-fits-all names.”

      “Like Pat?” Alexis asked dryly, although no one ever called her mother Pat.

      “A nickname for Patricia. What’s Dylan a nickname for?”

      Alexis exhaled. “Trouble.”

      “Why?”

      How could her mother have forgotten? “Law school? The guy who drop-kicked my heart into orbit around Planet Pity?”

      “Oh. That Dylan.”

      “Yes, that Dylan! How could you forget that Dylan?”

      “There’ve been…so many…”

      Yes, her heart had made many trips to Planet Pity since then. But it had orbited longer over Dylan than anyone else. “Mom, he’s negotiating the pre-nup for Vincent.”

      “You be careful with that pre-nup. Don’t sign anything without reading it first.”

      “Mom! I’m a lawyer, too! You’re missing the point. Dylan is representing my fiancé.”

      “Do you still have feelings for him?” her mother asked carefully.

      “Yes—hate!”

      “I thought you were over him.”

      “I…am.” The unguarded rush of pleasure she’d experienced when she’d seen him in the lobby was just a holdover from their school years. “And I don’t hate him. I haven’t thought of him.” Much. “But he’s going to be negotiating my pre-nup with Vincent!”

      “He apparently doesn’t feel that it’ll be a conflict of interest.”

      “That’s because he’s not interested. Forget I said that.” This conversation was not going well.

      “So…what do you want from me?” asked her mother.

      “Tell me what to do!”

      “Wait…Alexis asks her mother for advice. Let me go write this date on the calendar.”

      Alexis rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t so sarcastic, I might ask your advice more often.”

      “No, you wouldn’t.”

      “You’re probably right. But I am asking now.” Her mother was an investment banker. Analyzing was her forte.

      “Let’s take a couple of steps back and look at the big picture. What do you want? And that’s not a cop-out.”

      “I want him not to be here.”

      “Because of Vincent or because of him?”

      “Because it’s awkward.”

      “If Dylan were female, would it be as awkward?”

      “Yeeeees,” Alexis said slowly. “If I were close friends with a woman and we broke off our friendship, I would feel awkward having her as my fiancé’s counsel. Yes,” she said more firmly. “It’s that kind of awkwardness.”

      “Hmm. If Dylan were female, would you ask Vincent to find other representation?”

      Alexis skirted the question. “It’s too late now.”

      “Isn’t Denver close by? Surely there are other lawyers available. But the point here is that you’d probably mention it to Vincent if Dylan were female.So why not tell him how uncomfortable you feel anyway? You’re marrying the man. You should be able to talk about such things with him.”

      “Because…because…” Because she just wanted to marry Vincent and get it over with. “I don’t want Dylan to know he makes me uncomfortable.”

      “Or you don’t want to chance Vincent discovering that you once had a relationship with his lawyer?” Her mother had found the core of the problem, as Alexis had known she would.

      “That sounds so much worse than it is. Truly, this is no big deal and I don’t want it to become a big deal. But if I don’t mention it and Vincent already knows or finds out, then he’ll think I’m hiding something. If I do make a point of telling him about Dylan and me, then I’m drawing unnecessary attention to it, especially if he didn’t already know. And I don’t know if Dylan has told him or not. And I can’t ask Dylan because then he’ll think I care whether or not Vincent knows and then Dylan will think he has something over me. A bargaining chip maybe. Which is stupid because whether or not I was once in love with him is not important. But Vincent might think it is.” She stopped and drew a deep breath. “My head hurts.”

      “Poor baby.”

      “Oh, Mom. What’ll I do?”

      “Okay. I suggest you treat Dylan the way you’d treat any other former classmate, male or female. You smile, make casual chitchat, go over your pre-nup and send him on his way.”

      Smile. Chitchat.