The Wingman Page 26

  “If any of you so much as breathe wrong in her direction,” he said, his voice quiet and seething with fury, lifting his gaze to include the rest of the shocked little group, “I’ll show you exactly how many ways there are to fuck someone up without leaving a mark. Am I clear?”

  Hasty nods.

  “Great,” he said, dusting his hands and rolling his neck. He glanced at a still-wheezing Edmonton and smiled, a cold baring of his teeth that had been known to scare people shitless. “Walk it off, asshole. You’ll be fine.”

  He picked up the bag from where it had fallen and inspected the clubs for any damage. Luckily everything looked in order.

  “I’d say this game is over, wouldn’t you? Let’s never do this again.”

  He sauntered to his golf cart and tossed the bag into the back and drove off without looking back. One punch hadn’t been enough, but if he stayed any longer he’d probably wind up maiming or killing the man. Mason had deliberately given him just that love tap of a punch because if he unleashed all the fury he felt on the man, Edmonton wouldn’t be getting up from it. Best Mason remove himself from the situation before the temptation to do worse overcame him.

  He definitely needed a drink.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was practically impossible to get Lia alone that morning. By the time Daff and Daisy got to the spa, all the other bridesmaids were there already, and Lia refused to let her sisters draw her away from the rest of the group. So Daff and Daisy went ahead with the weird mud wraps and nail treatments, the facials and hot stone massages. There was an awkward moment in the change room, when everybody else had seen the bruises on her skin, despite Daisy’s attempts to keep them hidden. But Daff had eased the moment by making a silly joke about Mason obviously being a wild man in the sack. Everybody had laughed uncomfortably, and Daisy had hastily dragged on a robe to hide both her body and the bruises from everybody’s prying eyes.

  The spa wasn’t so bad; in fact, if it weren’t for the rather urgent need to speak with her sister, Daisy would have enjoyed the experience a heck of a lot more. She wasn’t one for spas and stuff, but after the rigors of the night before, the treatments had definitely relaxed and rejuvenated her. In fact, she might well do this more often, especially since it resulted in smooth skin, pretty nails, and an all-over feeling of general well-being.

  It was equally difficult to talk to Lia during brunch, and Daisy could see that Daff was becoming similarly frustrated. It didn’t help that Zinzi and Shar were being even more bitchy than usual. They kept making snide little comments and giving Daisy pointed sidelong glances and blatantly giggling behind their hands like gossiping schoolgirls. They weren’t usually so overt, but this morning it was evident even to the rest of the group. The two tended to keep their bitchiness hidden from Lia, but Daisy could see her sister was starting to notice their lousy behavior. Daisy had bigger concerns than Zinzi and Shar, and she happily ignored their rudeness.

  “Lia, I’m serious, we really have to talk,” Daisy whispered to her sister for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and Lia, her face pale and pinched, finally snapped.

  “What?” she shouted, the sharp edge in her voice silencing the entire group of women. “For God’s sake what? What’s so important that you can’t just let me enjoy this morning?”

  Daisy cast an awkward glance around the room of avidly staring women and sent a pleading glance at Daff, who made her way toward them.

  “Not here,” Daisy whispered miserably. “It’s a private matter.”

  “I’m a little busy today, in case it’s escaped your notice.”

  “It’s about Clayton,” Daff gritted out, losing her patience.

  “This again?” Lia wasn’t even attempting to keep her voice down, and the other women were all painfully silent. “Why won’t you two accept that this wedding is happening and just be happy for me?”

  “Lia, we can’t discuss this here,” Daisy said calmly. “Please can we talk about this somewhere a little quieter?”

  “No! Nothing you say will make me change my mind!”

  “Not even the fact that your bastard fiancé has been sexually harassing Daisy?” Daff finally yelled, and Lia’s eyes widened as they sought Daisy’s. Daisy could do nothing but return her stare with a wide, fixed gaze, horrified that Daff had simply blurted it out like that in front of the entire group.

  A muffled laugh suddenly broke the silence, and all heads swung toward Shar, who had her hand up over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her horrible laughter. Zinzi sniggered as well, while the rest of the women stood around in awkward uncertainty.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Shar giggled. “It’s just that . . . come on, are you guys really going to go with that? Clayton’s been hitting on Daisy or whatever? Clayton? And Daisy?”

  It was Daisy’s worst fear come to life. The laughter, the disbelief . . . the scorn. Some of the other women were now eyeing her speculatively as well, and Daff stepped forward to intervene, but Daisy had finally had enough. She held up her hand to prevent Daff from interceding and took a step toward Shar.

  “You know, Shar,” she said conversationally, “you really are a malignant cow. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve your scorn. Quite frankly, I no longer care. I spent way too much time trying to figure it out, and I’m done. Sometimes people are just born mean. You and Zinzi are rotten to the core, and since your opinion means nothing to me, I no longer care about why I became the target for your schoolyard bullying. My sisters and I are trying to have a private conversation, so if you don’t mind, we’d very much appreciate it if the rest of you could—”

  “Why should Lia believe your pathetic little stories, Daisy?” Shar interrupted with a haughty little smile. “You’re clearly jealous of her and what she has with Clayton. I mean, you couldn’t even get a date to your own sister’s wedding, could you? You had to blackmail poor Mason into being your date, didn’t you? If you could lie about something like that, I’m willing to bet you’re pathetic enough to fabricate horrible stories about Clayton too.”

  Daisy felt all the blood drain from her face at those words and swayed slightly beneath their impact.

  “And if you’re wondering how I know that, it came straight from the horse’s mouth,” Shar supplied smugly, and Daisy felt lightheaded as the words sank in. Why would he tell anybody? What possible reason could he have to tell? “We had quite a laugh over it. Poor, desperate Daisy, showing up here with that stud on your arm, and all the while the man is here against his will. It would be laughable if it weren’t so—”

  “Enough!” The sharp command came from Lia, who looked pale and pissed off yet remarkably poised at the same time. “Shar, consider our friendship over. Same goes for you, Zinzi. You have no right to speak to my sister like that. Daisy’s right, you’re both malignant bitches, and I think it’s best if we never see each other again. Now, if the rest of you don’t mind, my sisters and I need some privacy. Please excuse us.”

  She and Daff moved to flank Daisy, and she was vaguely aware of each woman grabbing one of her elbows and leading her out of the private dining room. Daisy wasn’t sure where they were taking her, but she was just so relieved to get out from beneath all those mocking gazes and away from Shar’s vicious diatribe.

  “Daisy?” It was Lia’s voice, sounding very far away.

  “Shit, she looks like she’s going to faint.” Daff sounded anxious.

  “I’m not going to faint,” Daisy denied, shaking her head.

  “Drink this.” Lia shoved a glass into her hand, and Daisy took an obedient sip before dragging in a pained breath and exhaling it on a cough.

  “What the hell is that?” she asked, suddenly back in the sucky present. It looked like they were in Daff’s room.

  “Brandy. They always give it to people in the movies,” Lia explained when her sisters both leveled disbelieving looks at her. “You looked like you needed it for the shock.”

  “Why would he tell her?” Daisy asked, he
r voice breaking.

  “So that thing about Mason was true?” Lia asked, and Daisy nodded, too afraid to speak in case her voice failed her entirely. Her chest hurt. Why did it hurt? Was she having an anxiety attack? Something was wrong with her heart; it wasn’t working properly, it felt wrong. It felt . . . broken.

  She lifted a hand to stifle a sob, but it escaped nonetheless.

  “But why?” Lia asked in confusion, and Daisy shook her head.

  “Long story,” Daff spoke for her.

  “And the stuff about Clayton?” Lia asked hesitantly. Before shaking her head in irritation. “I don’t know why I asked that. You wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  “You believe me?” Daisy asked in a wobbly voice, and Lia frowned.

  “Of course I believe you,” she said, sounding shocked that Daisy would even think she wouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” Daisy whispered, and Lia hugged her.

  “Deedee, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who brought him into our lives.”

  “I should have trusted you and spoken about it sooner.”

  “Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact that he did what he did.”

  “You seem remarkably okay about this,” Daff pointed out, and Lia shrugged.

  “I am. I’ve been having . . . doubts anyway. I’ve been fooling myself, but the truth is, he’s just not a very nice man. He’s hypercritical about everything from what I eat to what I wear to whom I speak with. He even . . .” She paused, looking ashamed, before sighing and continuing. “He chose my wedding dress. All that dress-hunting business was just a ruse. He had a dress preselected and I pretended to ‘find’ it.”

  “You took us to four separate shops,” Daff reminded indignantly, and Lia smiled tiredly.

  “I just wanted to try to pretend I had an actual choice.”

  “Are you heartbroken?” Daisy asked softly, wanting to know how that felt. Wanting a basis for comparison. Lia thought about her question for a moment before shaking her head.

  “No. I’m relieved. I thought I loved him. I wanted so desperately to love him. He seemed perfect. But, oh my God, the ego. Everything was always about him. And he was incredibly selfish in bed.”

  “Yuck. TMI. Seriously between this and Daisy last night, I—” Daff broke off abruptly when Daisy burst into tears. “Shit. Deedee, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s just . . . I think—I think I’m heartbroken. But how can I be heartbroken? You have to be in love to have your heart broken. Isn’t that how it usually works?” God, she was a mess. And this wasn’t even about her. Her sister’s wedding was in a shambles, and she could think only of herself.

  “Everybody knows now. I feel so stupid and humiliated. I don’t understand why he would tell her.”

  “Are you sure it was him?” Lia asked, and Daisy shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

  “I don’t know. He’s always seemed contemptuous of her; I don’t see him deliberately telling her, but how else would she know?”

  “What are you going to do?” Daff asked and Daisy lifted her face to stare at her concerned sisters resolutely.

  “Deal with it.”

  “And what about you?” Daff directed the question at Lia, who shrugged.

  “Mom and Dad are going to be so disappointed,” she said, regret adding weight to her words.

  “They’d be more disappointed if you wound up marrying a man you don’t love,” Daff said.

  “But they went to so much effort. Look at this place; it cost the earth. And all the guests; they’ve all lost money. How can I possibly repay everybody?”

  “The people who love you want you to be happy, and the guests got a nice relaxing weekend at a beautiful venue for their trouble. Time to be selfish and think of yourself, Lia.”

  “Then I suppose I have a wedding to cancel.”

  “Hey, angel.” Mason smiled when Daisy walked into their suite ten minutes later. He looked totally relaxed, kicking back on the sofa with a well-worn paperback facedown on his chest. “How’d it go?”

  “The wedding’s off,” Daisy told him, without any inflection in her voice. She kept her gaze carefully averted as she opened the closet and dragged out her suitcase.

  “No shit. So you told her? How’d she take it?” He sounded concerned, and Daisy flipped open her suitcase and scanned the interior intently, happy for the task because it allowed her to keep avoiding his gaze.

  “The wedding is off. How do you think she took it?” She walked over to the bureau where she had stored a couple of T-shirts and her underwear and withdrew the carefully folded clothes and carried them over to her case.

  “She’s okay with you?”

  “Uh-huh.” She began to carefully place her clothing back into the case and—from the corner of her eye—she could see his body language change subtly.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice had a lethally soft edge to it.

  “Packing.”

  “Why?”

  “No more wedding, so there’s no need for this farce to continue.” She was happy that her voice and hands remained steady, but she still couldn’t meet his eyes, not even when he got up from the sofa and came to stand right beside her. He was much too close. Close enough for her to smell his cologne, to feel his body heat, to hear his soft breathing.

  “So we’re going home?” he asked quietly.

  “I think it’s best if you went home. Today. I’ll catch a ride back with Daff.”

  “What’s going on? Why are you being like this? Has someone upset you?”

  “I’m releasing you from our agreement,” she said, with barely a wobble in her voice, and Mason swore before taking hold of her elbow and turning her to face him. The movement dislodged the tears that had been brimming in her eyes, and he swore again as he watched the twin silvery tracks scorch their way down her cheeks.

  “Who made you cry?” His quiet voice promised retribution to anyone who had dared hurt her, and the hypocrisy of it just made the silent tears flow faster. “Daisy, tell me what happened.”

  “Everybody knows,” she said on a broken whisper. “Everybody knows. I’m a laughingstock, a pathetic object of scorn and pity. How ridiculous is that? An entire wedding is being called off, and the only thing people will be talking about is the fact that Daisy McGregor blackmailed a man into being her date.”

  “What?” He sounded horrified. God, could he really be this good of an actor? Daisy didn’t know what to think, what to believe; all she knew was that it would be best if he left. Everything between them had happened way too fast; she’d been too caught up in the fantasy of what could be to accept the reality of what was. And the reality was that they would never work. She had allowed herself a brief moment of “what-if,” but that was over now, destroyed by the truth that she’d seen in Shar’s eyes. She and Mason didn’t work. And they never would.

  “I need you to leave.”

  “Daisy, me leaving would be the wrong move,” he said, his hands tightening on her elbow. “It would just confirm whatever the hell people are thinking. I should stay, make them doubt whatever it is they heard. We should keep up a united front.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Her voice was as fractured as her heart, and she clamped her trembling lips together in an effort to regain a modicum of dignity and control before she spoke again.

  “I’m doing this because I care about you,” he confessed hoarsely. “Because I don’t want you to go through this alone. Because I want to show them that nothing about what we have is fake.”

  “It’s all fake!” At the end of her tether, her voice rose sharply until she was practically screaming. The volume shocked both of them, and she inhaled deeply before speaking again. “I want you out of my life, Mason. This little sideshow is over.”

  “Daisy.”

  “Permanently out of my life, do you understand?”

  “No!” he yelled back. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Did you tell Shar about
us?” She didn’t know why she even bothered asking. She could no longer deny the truth. Mason was a good guy. She didn’t know how Shar had learned the truth, but it wasn’t Mason who had told her. All Daisy knew was that the question would drive a wedge between them, and she desperately needed to put some distance between them. She needed him to leave because it was time for Daisy McGregor to get back to the real world. The words dropped between them like lead, and Mason took a horrified step back from her.

  “What?” His voice was soft and lethal, and she couldn’t read his expression at all, but something in his eyes sent a shudder of sorrow down her spine. She swallowed and calmly repeated the vile question.

  “Did you tell Shar about us? She knows every detail, and I certainly didn’t tell her.”

  “Shar?” The woman’s name sounded harsh on his lips, and Daisy winced when she heard it. “You think I told fucking Shar about our arrangement?”

  He dropped her elbow and stepped away from her, and Daisy felt the loss of his body heat keenly, even while she despised herself for her neediness.

  “How the fuck can you think that? How can you think that I would hurt you . . . you of all people, like that?” His voice hitched, and he swore softly before turning away from her and striding to the closet to grab his duffel and his garment bags. Daisy stood frozen and watched as he efficiently repacked the duffel bag within mere minutes, every movement of his beautiful body looking stiff and furious. When he was done he strode to the door, turning to face her only after he had opened the door.

  “You need to grow up, Daisy. You’re still way too hung up on shit that happened when you were in high school. You’ve allowed petty teenage crap to cloud your vision of yourself and affect the way you live your life. Call me once you’ve grown up.” He paused before shaking his head irritably. “On second thought, don’t call me. I’ll have moved on from this situation by then.”