The Groom Came C.o.d.
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“Lucky you.” The look she gave him would have frozen an Eskimo. “Why pick me?”
How could he tell her mistake was opportune? That he sensed she could be trusted to “dissolve” the marriage when the right time came. That it might be convenient to have her as his “wife” for the duration. He managed a grin. “Maybe your timing was right. Or maybe your aunt was right about your ‘mistake.’ Maybe it was fate.”
Melinda considered Ben’s answer. Her aunt had talked about fate and destiny for so long, she was conditioned to believe it herself. At any rate, a mock-marriage, without a license, to a socially prominent man with connections might just be the ultimate answer to the lack of prospective brides. She didn’t have to feel she was using him. From what he’d said, the marriage would be to his advantage, too. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good, I’m glad we finally agree on something.” Ben settled back in his chair. “I think we should also settle a few important details while we’re at it. Okay?”
Melinda shrugged. “After the story you just told me, I can’t imagine what else is left to talk about. But go ahead.”
“I’ll supply the minister.”
She hesitated. “Actually, if I decide to go through with the wedding I was going to ask the Reverend Charles Good to conduct the ceremony. Charles is a good friend of Aunt Bertie’s.”
“A real minister?”
“Of course.”
“No way!” Ben rose and paced the kitchen floor. He counted off the squares in the brown and white linoleum until his frustration cooled. “I’m not going to take a chance on anything going wrong. I have a friend back in Boston who is a drama professor. Dex will fly out to do the honors if I ask him to. He’ll not only look and act like a real minister, there’s a plus.”
“What’s that,” she asked cautiously. “No one will ever see him again.”
“We can’t,” she protested. “It would break my aunt’s heart, and I’d feel like a fraud!”
His eyebrows rose. “Would you feel any differently if this friend of your aunt’s performed a mock-ceremony without a license?”
Melinda glanced down at her clenched hands. Her heart was breaking into little pieces. The dream she’d woven into her fantasy wedding was crumbling fast, and she didn’t know how to stop it. A platonic, temporary marriage with a man she’d yearned over for half of her life was the last thing she’d expected. How could she have gotten in so deep?
Ben cleared his throat. He’d never seen a more unhappy look on the face of a woman who had just gotten engaged. He’d have to make it up to her later. “Sorry. Tell the reverend I’m having a close college friend do the honors. Just be sure he doesn’t know the truth. What he and Ms. Bertie don’t know won’t hurt them.” He hesitated. “Oh, one more thing. I want you to take my photograph off that damn dating Web site before anyone else sees it!”
“I told you I had nothing to do with putting it on there!”
“I don’t care. If it’s not too late, see if you can get me off there before the whole town sees it.”
Chapter Three
Ben headed for his office wondering just what he’d talked himself into.
Built on to a side of the Oak Tree distillery, the office was a refuge where he could let the world, the telephone and the fax machine go by when he was so inclined. After his mind-boggling discussion with Melinda and her aunt, he was definitely inclined.
Shaded by the oak trees that surrounded the building, the office was cool and scented with the rich pungent aroma of fine fruit brandies that were Oak Tree’s specialty. On the other side of the office wall, the season’s fruit crop was being aged in oak casks until it was ready to be bottled. He took great pride in knowing that the brandies carrying the Oak Tree name were the among the finest dessert liquors on the West Coast. Maybe, in the world.
Educated as a lawyer, he’d quickly discovered practicing law wasn’t for him. For an innovative thinker like him, the law had turned out to be more about precedent than creativity. He’d realized he needed to create something tangible. That had translated into utilizing the bountiful fruit orchards on Howard family land. Happily, with his uncle’s agreement, the Oak Tree Distillery had been the answer.
He dropped into his well-worn leather chair, stared at the telephone and willed it not to ring. He needed time to pull his thoughts together, to make sense of the day’s events—if there was anything sensible about it.
What really worried him was what his uncle would think when he saw the wedding announcement in the morning newspaper. A no-nonsense, dignified man with high standards, as well as an upholder of tradition, Uncle Joseph was bound to have questions. Who wouldn’t? He had some himself.
He knew it was too late to worry when his uncle strolled into his office unannounced, the morning’s newspaper in his hand. At sixty-five, he still carried himself with dignity. So much so, no one thought to shorten his name to Joe. Not even him. In white linen slacks, light blue shirt and dark blue jacket, he looked every inch the wealthy owner of vast real estate holdings in and around Ojai. Ben took one look at the purposeful look in his uncle’s eyes, uttered a silent prayer and rose to greet him.
“Believe it or not, Uncle Joseph, I was just thinking about you.”
“Glad to hear it, my boy. I’ve been thinking about you, too.” He tossed the folded newspaper on to Ben’s desk. “I knew it was long past time for you to get married again,” his uncle commented dryly, “but did you have to keep your engagement a secret?”
Ben laughed. He hoped the laugh didn’t sound as hollow to his uncle as it did to him. “Guess you could say it happened before I knew it myself.”
“You don’t say?” His uncle dropped into a chair, crossed his legs and looked more serious than ever. A signal that trouble was coming if there ever was one. “I wonder if the story I heard at the country club this morning could also be true?”