Abby Gaines – Married by Mistake (страница 4)
Casey’s mind went blank. “Uh, he’s, uh…”
Sally’s smile froze.
“He’s so honest,” Casey said at last. “So handsome.” Silence. For Pete’s sake, they wanted more? “I’ve known him forever. And…I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
At least she couldn’t until about an hour ago, when a stranger had left the imprint of his lips on her hand. She glanced quickly down at her fingers—of course there was no sign of Adam’s kiss. “I really want to get married,” she said, and added, with an emphasis that was too loud and too late, “to Joe.”
At last the interview was over. The strains of “Here Comes the Bride” filled the studio. Across the stage, Joe appeared. He stopped dead, looked around, saw the other two couples on the couch, heard the audience chanting, “Joe, Joe, Joe,” and, finally, looked at Casey. A dragging inevitability slowed his progress across the stage.
“Joe,” Sally cooed. “Welcome to
Joe opened his mouth, but it took him a couple of tries to get any words out. “She does,” he managed to answer at last.
Relief washed over Casey, restoring her heart to its normal rhythm.
“Joe, this is your big moment,” Sally said. “All you have to do is pop the question, and you can marry Casey right here.” Her brilliant smile encouraged him.
Joe hesitated. Casey gave him what she intended to be a loving smile, though she feared it might have emerged as pleading. Still he hesitated.
“Joe, aren’t you going to ask Casey to marry you?” Sally sounded like a mother addressing a recalcitrant child.
Joe spoke, loud and clear this time.
“No, I’m not.”
CHAPTER TWO
“YES!” DAVE DUBOIS PUNCHED the air with his fist. “You did it, buddy. This is much better than Henry’s head on a plate.”
Adam cursed as the center screen flipped from one camera feed to the next as the director searched for something other than frozen expressions and hanging jaws. So much for convincing New Visage Cosmetics that Channel Eight could mount a professional, sophisticated production.
With Dave on his heels, he rushed out of the control room and into the studio, where stunned silence had given way to a hubbub of excited chatter.
On the set, Sally Summers’s famous smile had evaporated. Joe stepped toward Casey, and the microphone clipped to his shirt picked up what he said, despite his low voice.
“I’m sorry, Casey, but I don’t want to marry you—I don’t love you that way anymore. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings….” He stopped, perhaps aware his words were being broadcast around Tennessee.
Make that the entire U.S.A.
As Adam headed to the front of the studio he noticed Channel Eight’s PR manager had pulled out her cell phone and was talking in urgent tones. She’d be instructing her assistants to get this story on the late news. By tomorrow, she’d have sold the program nationwide. Casey’s disaster was great TV.
Joe said again, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned and—as if he hadn’t done enough damage—all but ran offstage. Sally patted Casey’s hand in what might have been intended as a gesture of comfort, but looked perfunctory.
Adam headed for his cousin Henry, next to camera three. To reach him, he had to pass the New Visage executives, huddled in anxious consultation in their front-row seats.
“Adam.” Henry’s round face was flushed with panic. He grabbed Adam’s arm. “I had no idea this would happen, I swear.”
Damn, that meant there was no contingency plan.
Henry jerked his head toward the stage. “Do you think she’s going to faint?”
Adam looked up at Casey, swaying on her stool, blinking rapidly.
Behind him, the chatter of the studio audience swelled to an unruly level. He shut out the sound, focused on what needed to be done.
“Tell the crew to follow my lead on this,” he told Henry. His cousin began issuing hurried instructions to the floor director, who was in radio contact with the director in the control room. To Dave, Adam said, “How good an actor are you?”
“I played a tree in
“I hope you were a damn good one,” Adam said. “Wait here until I tell you to come up on stage. Then do as I say.”
The security people let Adam through and he stepped up onto the stage. Sally became aware of his presence. She turned and took a few hesitant steps in his direction.
“Mr. Carmichael,” she said, then remembered to flash her dazzling smile. “Welcome to
He stalked up to her and motioned to her to mute her mic. When he was sure no one would hear him, he said, “We need to fix this—
“How do you propose we do that?” she hissed.
“That bride—” he nodded toward Casey “—is going to have a wedding.” He added grimly, “Even if I have to marry her myself.”
“You can’t do—”
“You’re going to help.”
Sally flicked a yearning glance over his shoulder at her teleprompter. When no script appeared, she started to shake her head.
“Right now, Sally.” Adam dropped his voice to a menacing murmur. “Your contract negotiations are due at the end of the quarter.”
Sally Summers was nothing if not pragmatic. Adam could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes as she turned to the audience wearing a wide smile that only the two of them knew was false. She switched her mic back on and stepped forward.
“Well, folks, the course of true love never runs smooth, and who knows that better than Casey? But tonight, one man’s loss might be another man’s gain. It turns out Casey has another admirer here in the studio, a man waiting in the wings—literally —for his chance at love.”
Adam winced at the stream of clichés. But Sally was headed in the right direction, however painful the route she took to get there.
“Folks—” she was warming to her task and by now had some real enthusiasm in her voice “—meet Adam Carmichael, Memphis’s most eligible bachelor. And, if she’ll have him, Casey Greene’s bridegroom!”
The audience broke into a cheer, which Adam suspected was more out of confusion than celebration. He strode over to where Casey clung dazedly to her stool, and took both her hands in his. She clutched them as if he’d thrown her a lifeline.
“Casey—” he spoke loudly so his words would carry to the audience without a mic “—will you marry me?”
He heard a shriek from someone in the crowd. Casey stared at him. He leaned forward, and his lips skimmed the soft skin of her cheek as he whispered in her ear, “We’re going to fake a wedding.”
He stepped back and said again, for the benefit of the crowd, “Casey, will you marry me? Please?”
He wondered if she’d understood, she sat there, unresponsive, for so long. Then she expelled a slow breath and smiled radiantly, her gray-green eyes full of trust. “Yes, Adam, I will.”
For a second, he felt a tightness in his chest, as if he’d just seriously proposed marriage to the woman he loved. Whatever that might feel like. A din exploded around them, the audience cheering, Sally yelling to make herself heard. Someone called for a commercial break.
Five minutes later, the clerk had issued a marriage license. Under Tennessee law there was no waiting period, no blood test. Adam announced he would use his own marriage celebrant, and beckoned to Dave. His friend looked around, then twigged that Adam meant him. He bounded forward, and by the time he reached the set his face was a study in solemnity. If you discounted the gleam in his eyes.
Dave patted his pockets, then turned to the ousted minister. “I seem to have forgotten my vows. Could I borrow yours?”
Just as they went back on air he clipped on a microphone. He began laboring through the “wedding.”
“Adam James Carmichael, do you take—” He slanted Casey a questioning look.
“Casey Eleanor Greene,” she supplied.
“Casey Eleanor Greene to be your wife? To have and to hold, for—”
“I do,” Adam said.
“Right.” Dave moved down the page. “Casey Eleanor Greene, do you—”
“I do,” Casey said.
“—take Adam James Carmichael to be your husband?”
“She said she does,” Adam snapped.
At the same moment, Casey repeated desperately, “I do!”
Dave got the message and started to wrap things up. “Then, uh—” he lost his place and improvised “—it’s a deal. You’re married, husband and wife. You may—”
“Kiss the bride!” the audience yelled on cue.
Why not? They’d gone through all the other motions of a wedding. Adam turned to Casey and found she’d lifted her face expectantly.