Page 9 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

If I couldn’t be spared from tonight’s spectacle, I could at least save Clara from the same fate. “It’s a wedding. I’ve gone to weddings alone before.”

“And you hated every minute. This isn’t just any wedding.”

No, it wasn’t. Tonight, my ex-fiancée was marrying another man. The woman I’d once cared for was marrying my younger brother.

“Please, don’t go alone. Otherwise . . . oh, never mind.”

“Otherwise I’ll look sad and alone and pathetic.”

She blew her nose. The honk was a resounding yes.

I’d planned to be blissfully absent from the wedding festivities, lounging on my favorite beach in Fiji. Except one phone call from Grandmother and I’d been summoned to attend. No exceptions.

Or she’d sell the company.

“One more year.” I sighed. “One more year and she won’t be able to pull my strings.”

Clara gave me a sad smile. “It will be worth it.”

“God, I hope so.”

In another year, I’d be thirty-five and the stipulations on my trust would expire. My grandfather had left me a large inheritance after he’d died unexpectedly of a heart attack. Upon my thirty-fifth birthday, the funds would be completely at my disposal. The money would be nice, though I already had plenty, but what I really wanted was full control of the company.

The shares Grandmother controlled on my trust’s behalf would also be released on my birthday.

Coreen Carmichael was about to lose her grip on my leash, much to her dismay because Grandmother loved nothing more than to manipulate her grandsons. Especially me.

My attendance at this wedding had been requested, according to the email her assistant had sent Clara. Requested meaning required. So though I’d been halfway across the world, I’d informed the pilot that there’d been a change of plan and we’d turned around to head home.

“Let’s think of alternatives.” Clara pushed away from the door and returned to the couch, plopping down on its edge. Her sweats bagged on her frame, the hems pooling at her ankles and the slippers she’d worn over here this morning. “What about Marie? The girl you dated a few months ago.”

“No.” I crossed my arms and perched on the edge of my desk. Clara didn’t know the details, but Marie was more likely to cut my throat than agree to a date. She’d been angry, to say the least, when I’d dumped her after she’d told me she was in love with me. Maybe another man would have let her down gently, but I’d only been seeing her for three weeks. We’d gone on four dates.

Marie had loved my billions. Not me.

“I could call some friends from my yoga class,” Clara said. “There are a few single women who’d probably go.”

“I’m not taking a blind date.” That sounded more torturous than the wedding itself.

Clara chewed on her bottom lip. “Yeah, you’re right. You need someone who knows this is only supposed to look like a date.”

“This is business.”

She nodded. “Then that only leaves us one choice.”

“You’re not go—”

“You have to take Aria.” We spoke in unison.

I blinked. “Pardon?”

“Aria. You have to take Aria. We can explain to her what’s going on. She’ll be able to act as a buffer and keep the vultures at bay. You won’t look sad and alone and pathetic. It’s actually better than if I were to go with you. She’ll look like an actual date, not your assistant.”

Was she serious? This had to be the cold medicine talking. She was delusional if she thought I’d actually take her sister. “No.”

“This is perfect.” Her face lit up and some of the weight came off her shoulders.

“No.”