his urgency and checked on another table before getting his bill. Since Garrett only had a twenty-dollar bill in his wallet, he was forced to wait.
Several minutes later, he signed the receipt and ran out the door, sure he’d missed her but desperate to try anyway.
The universe was obviously still rooting for him, because he found her sitting in a sedan, her hands covering her face. He walked over to the driver’s door and knocked on the window.
She jumped and lowered her hands. He was relieved to see she wasn’t crying, but her eyes were alight with a savage fury he recognized all too well. “Go away!” she shouted, but it was muffled by the glass.
“Open the door, Blair.”
“Go away!”
He leaned his backside on the car next to hers and crossed his arms.
She rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield for several seconds before opening the door. “My car won’t start. I need you to figure out what’s wrong with it.”
He laughed, trying to hide his relief that she was actually talking to him. “Have we met? You know I don’t do anything mechanical.”
She pressed a button, then got out and walked to the front of her car and lifted the hood.
He dropped his arms and moved next to her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to figure out why it won’t start.”
“When did you become mechanical?” he teased.
She leaned down to look at something around the battery, then stood up. “I’m not. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to check.” She gave him a withering stare. “I wouldn’t put it past you to do something to it. You seem intent on talking to me. And yes, my assistant told me that you were trying to set up a lunch with me when you were at her desk.”
Garrett was relieved to know that little mix-up had been handled, but she obviously wasn’t any closer to agreeing to have a sit-down talk with him. Still, it was one less strike against him. He walked over and peered down at the engine. “Since we’ve already agreed that I’m physically—if not mentally—incapable of such an act of vandalism, let’s go with general car trouble as the reason your engine won’t start.” He had to admit that it would have been a great idea if, one, he knew how to do such a thing, two, if he’d known she would be here tonight, and three, if he’d known what make and model of car she drove.
She put her hands on her hips. “Did you arrange to be a groomsman in our wedding?”
“God, no. It’s like my worst nightmare come true.”
Her eyebrows rose, and her mouth pursed. “Are you saying my wedding is a nightmare?”
He shook his head. “Come on, Blair. Tell me about the last wedding you were in. Did you really want to be in it? Besides, why would I want to be in your wedding?” He stopped himself from adding “if I wasn’t the groom.”
She watched him for a moment, as though scanning him with a bullshit meter. She’d always been good at reading him. He must have passed because her hands dropped from her hips.
His shoulders relaxed. “I honestly had no clue you were Neil’s fiancée.”
“And what about the Norfolk case? Did you know I was on it?”
He held out a hand toward her. “No, I swear. They told me the attorney was B.A. Hansen. You went by Myers in law school.”
“So you would have turned both things down if you’d known?”
Would he? He wasn’t so sure. Especially since he’d given so much thought to their relationship over the last year. He would have sought her out if he’d thought there had been any chance she would listen, but now she was forced to endure him, which meant he actually had a shot. There was no denying that fate kept throwing her into his path. He could lie to her, but he’d never done that before. After all the stunts her father had pulled, she couldn’t abide liars or cheaters. He had no plans to be either to her. “No.”
She seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment, and then, without a word, she walked back to her car door and grabbed her phone out of her purse.
He wanted to stop her or ask who she was calling, but it occurred to him that he was turning into a stalker. So instead he returned to his post next to the car, crossing his arms and waiting for