“Look, I feel really sorry for Piper, and Ben. I know how awful it is. I lived through it myself.” Beah rubbed her face with her hands, trying to push away the memories of her mom’s skeletal frame, her pale face, her labored breathing. “But Finn, I haven’t had any contact with them for nine years. Ben is your childhood friend and I only met Piper a couple of times after Vegas. I don’t know her.”
“But you know how to organize a wedding. You’ve done it before.”
Beah frowned, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“You organized Nell’s wedding.”
Nell—now there was someone she hadn’t thought about in years. They’d been fellow interns at Murphy’s and Beah, in between working and getting naked with Finn, had helped her organize her wedding. Beah shook her head at Finn’s computerlike memory. “Wow, I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I remember everything,” Finn stated, his eyes not leaving her face. He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from foot to foot. “Look, I’m good at many things but...weddings? Not my strong point. He’s my best friend and he’s going through hell, so will you help me?”
Beah clamped her bottom lip between her teeth, holding back the hard “no” hovering on her tongue. She didn’t have the time to work on a wedding. She had clients to see, trips to make. Just today she had to meet with Paris Cummings, meet another client for lunch at the Ritz, and she’d been invited to attend a West End show with a Kuwaiti princess.
But truthfully, there was another bigger, bolder reason why she had to say no...
Simply stated, she couldn’t afford to spend more time with Finn Murphy. Because being around him made her feel vulnerable. She’d worked damn hard to create the life she wanted, and Finn made her question her choices.
Those oh-so-familiar questions rolled around her head. What if she’d fought harder for him, for their marriage? What if they’d gone for counseling? What if she’d given him more space, been a little less demanding?
But she wasn’t solely responsible for the demise of their marriage. What if he had been a little more communicative, more understanding? What if he’d put her first instead of his work or his need for solitude?
Beah pushed her hair off her face with the back of her wrist. The sex was great but the walk down memory lane? Not so much.
Fact: their marriage was over. The night they’d just spent together, as wonderful as it was, was over. They needed to go back to being work colleagues who communicated via email.
She was allowed to say no to this request, allowed not to become involved. That didn’t make her a bad person. She was just trying to protect herself.
Beah pushed her shoulder into the frame of the door. “I don’t have the time and, might I point this out, I live here in London, not Boston. Even if I agreed to help, there’s little I can do from here.”
It was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. But Finn didn’t need to know that.
Finn took a large gulp of coffee, then another. “We both know you could relocate to Boston for a couple of weeks if you wanted to.”
“But I don’t want to, Finn. My clients are here. My work is here.”
I can’t spend any more time with you, Finn, she silently added. I can’t take that much of a risk.
“I don’t know anything about organizing weddings!” he said.
“You did book two tickets to take us to Vegas,” Beah pointed out, and winced at the sarcasm in her voice.
Ten years and a divorce later and she still felt cheated because she’d never had the pretty dress, the prolonged excitement, feeling like a princess on her wedding day. That trip to Vegas had been a last-minute decision, and carrying on with the theme of impulsivity, their decision to marry had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, an impetuous decision by two stupid kids. She’d bought an off-the-rack dress from the hotel shop and stole some roses from the chapel garden for her bouquet. No planning had been involved. That might have been why she’d agreed to help Nell.
Finn banged his cup down on a heavy silver tray. “When did you become so stubborn?” he demanded, frustration on his masculine face.
Beah pulled in a long breath, looking for patience. “I learned to say no when I divorced you, Finn. I learned to do what was right for me, to not be pushed around, to not bend over backward to make people happy. I feel really sorry for Piper, I do. But I’m not helping you organize their wedding,” Beah told him.
She couldn’t; being around Finn made her feel. He also made her lose control, and she had to retreat to solid ground.
She needed to get back to her apartment and they needed to go back to ignoring each other. It was the safe choice, her only choice.
Beah walked back into the huge bedroom and threw her clothes onto the plump king-size bed. Dropping her towel, she yanked her panties up her legs, over her hips. Her eyes burned and she blinked back traitorous tears.
Breathing deeply, she ran through the conversation in an attempt to reassure herself that she’d made the right decision. It was true, she was busy, crazy busy, with Murphy business, preparing her clients for a series of sales, starting with the massive Mounton-Matthews sale at the beginning of spring. She also had meetings with her lawyer, with an accountant, and after she’d picked their brains, she’d meet with Michael to discuss his incredible offer.
Beah glanced at the closed door and bit her lip, fighting the wave of guilt, for saying no to Finn, for letting Piper down and, because she was on a roll, for wanting to walk away from her position at Murphy International. It wasn’t a defection. She was allowed to do something else, join another company, restructure her business life. She’d once been married to a Murphy but she wasn’t a family member, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t need to remain with Murphy’s “’til death do us part.”
It had taken her a long time to accept that she had a right to look at new opportunities, to find a new challenge, to enhance her career. Men did it all the time.