The Agent (The Consultants #3) - Nancy Herkness Page 0,1

Alice!”

Applause filled the large ballroom.

“That was a very Tully toast. Down to earth but heartfelt,” Leland said before he turned to smile at his fiancée, Dawn, the light flashing off his tortoiseshell glasses. “However, yours was equally eloquent.”

“They were both terrific,” Natalie agreed, as relieved as Leland that she had avoided having to speak in front of the assembled guests, since they included quite a few prominent and intimidating clients of KRG.

Natalie glanced around to see that Tully had been buttonholed by an older silver-haired man in a well-cut suit. He stood with his head tilted down attentively as the gentleman talked.

Tully puzzled her. She’d pegged him as a player because he made no secret of the fact that he had no intention of getting married and settling down. Yet so far she’d seen him skillfully shake off at least two women who had clearly shown their interest in him. She’d also discovered that he was an enthusiastic and conscientious Big Brother to an eleven-year-old kid in New York City. When he talked about the boy, his gunmetal-gray eyes lit up with genuine affection. Not quite the playboy she’d expected.

Alice had gotten up from her seat across the table and plunked down beside Natalie in Tully’s empty chair, her silk skirt floating around her. “Is my mascara smeared? Because the toasts made me get all weepy.”

Natalie examined her friend’s face. “You look perfect. And glowing with happiness, as Tully said.”

Alice chuckled. “You forgot the ‘nauseating’ part.”

“I was being tactful.”

Alice’s gaze sought her new husband, who had gotten up to chat with the guests at another table now that the toasts were over. Her face softened while her radiance grew even brighter. “I still can’t believe we’re married. I mean, look at him!”

Derek did, indeed, have the looks of a movie star, a fact that caused him more annoyance than pleasure. He glanced up and smiled at his bride, making his already-perfect face almost blindingly handsome.

“He’s a married man, so I’m not allowed to stare at him anymore,” Natalie said.

“As long as you don’t touch, it’s fine.” Alice grinned, then turned serious. “Are you having a good time? I want everyone to have a wonderful time at my wedding.”

“Honestly, it’s the most amazing wedding I’ve ever been to,” Natalie said, looking around at the champagne fountain, the towering flower arrangements, and the twenty-piece band.

Alice followed her gaze. “I don’t mean all that stuff. The wedding planner did that. I mean is it fun?”

“It’s not only fun, it’s full of love and that makes it special,” Natalie assured her friend.

Nowadays Natalie looked at weddings with double vision because her marriage had ended in terrible failure. She hoped and even believed that Alice and Derek would be blissful and in love for the rest of their lives. But she had believed the same thing on her own wedding day. It had never occurred to her then—or even for the next ten years of her marriage—that she would find herself fleeing from her husband with nothing more than a hastily packed suitcase and fifty dollars.

She banished that ugliness from her mind. Tonight was for celebrating, so she polished off the rest of her champagne and prepared to enjoy herself.

A couple of hours later, she ran into Tully leaning against a column on the edge of the dance floor while he sipped a beer and watched the dancers gyrate in a kaleidoscope of swirling skirts, glittering sequins, and flashing light-up party favors. “Taking a break from the social whirl?” she asked, surprised to find him alone.

“Replacing my electrolytes,” he said, holding up the half-empty glass. “That reminds me that I haven’t had the pleasure of a dance with you since that first stuffy waltz.”

Probably because she’d been avoiding that just like she’d avoided the bouquet that had been tossed straight at her. Why give Alice any more ideas?

Just then the high-energy pop number ended, and the band segued into a twangy country tune.

“Now we’re talkin’.” Tully tilted back his head and finished his beer in one long swallow. Plunking the glass down on a nearby table, he held out his hand. “They’re playing our song.”

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music,” she said, even as she automatically put her hand in his big, enveloping grip. It would have been rude to do anything else.

“But I do, so just follow my lead.” He tugged her onto the dance floor and then spun her into his arms. “It’s a two-step. Quick, quick, slow,