Ella’s stomach was threatening a full-scale revolt. She swallowed several times before she was able to get her mouth to stop watering excessively and her eyes to stop tearing up. “I’m so sorry. We’ll find out where the mistake was made. Perhaps it was for another wedding.”
“Whatever the reason, I expect you to ensure nothing like this happens at the ceremony. I will not have our day destroyed by someone’s mistake, no matter how innocent it allegedly was.” Mike shifted his hold on Jenna. “I’m going to take her back to the room to clean up. We’ll forgo the rest of the walk-through to give you time to make sure everything is in order. Guests begin arriving in the morning. Don’t screw this up for us, Ms. Montgomery. If this goes well, it could make your career. If it goes poorly, itwillruin it. Don’t make me regret hiring a relative unknown event coordinator.”
And with that parting shot, Mike gently steered Jenna back toward the resort.
Liam laid a hand on Ella’s arm. “I know—”
“No, Liam.Iknow. I know!” she shouted. She knew exactly who had ordered the peacocks. The same person who had encouraged her to include the dove release at the end of the ceremony. The only man who had the ability to authorize changes to the prewedding events. The man with the power to destroy her career without doing more than initialing changes he’d initiated on behalf of his sister. The only man she’d ever cared for so much that she’d overlooked changes she should have known better than to blindly accept.
Liam Baggett.
Liam had let Ella be, taking a walk along the beach to sort out the riot of emotions burning through him. He should have stepped up and taken responsibility for the bird debacle, but he hadn’t. Planning on ruining the wedding had been one thing; seeing his plan come to fruition had been another.
When Jenna had experienced a full-blown panic attack this afternoon, Liam hadn’t been able to make himself say the words. Accept blame. Look into his sister’s eyes and tell her that he was the one who had scared her in the hopes her precious Mike would show his true colors.
Had he an ounce of chivalry, he’d have spoken up. But he hadn’t. And he was disgusted with himself.
It had been seeing Ella step in and bear the brunt of Mike’s anger that gave his guilt a voice. Jenna might put up with that shit, but Liam wasn’t going to allow Mike to treat Ella that way.
He’d stepped in, intent on clearing the issue up. But Ella had stopped him dead in his tracks. She shut him down, telling him, all of them, that she’d make it right. She’d fix the mistake, see the wedding through as promised and ensure there were no birds at the ceremony.
The least he could do was respect her wishes and let her save face by handling it as she saw fit.
He owed her that. That, and so much more.
He had to find a way to make it right for his sister and to salvage what lay between Ella and him. Part of his plan had failed in ways he hadn’t been fully prepared for, but that didn’t mean all was lost. There was still time to ensure Mike showed his true character before vows were exchanged. Liam would just have to be careful. He’d have to find a way to shield Ella as much as possible while still getting Mike to show Jenna he was the worst possible choice she could make. There was still the rehearsal and dinner. Time enough.
Standing on the bungalow’s porch, his hand on the doorknob, Liam hesitated. Making the decision to go through the door and face Ella’s anger was simple enough. It was her presumable disappointment in him that he didn’t want to confront. So there he stood, the deep shade of early night settling around him, the winds stalling and the waves shushing. On the other side of the door, he heard Ella throwing things around with fervor, cursing his name with such creativity and thoroughness that it was clear she thought he and the devil himself were on a first-name basis.
With a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside.
The one-bedroom suite was clean. As in, sparkling. No papers lay strewn about. No seating chart was tacked to the bulletin board. No computer with its portable printer sat on the desk. Nothing.
A shadow moved past the sliver of light that escaped through the bedroom door and door frame.
Ella.
Heart in his throat and pulse pounding out a heavy-metal drumbeat in his ears, he forced himself to knock.
She didn’t answer, but he opened the door anyway.
Ella was packing. Or, in actuality, had already packed.
She let out a shout when she saw him. “You scared the shit out of me, Liam,” she snapped, hand fluttering back and forth between her chest and throat like a hummingbird that wasn’t sure where to land.
“I...” The wordsorryhung up in his throat yet again. “You’ve packed.”
“Brilliant observation.” She shot him a bland look. “Next you’ll tell me your London offices are at 221b Baker Street.”
“Where are you going, Ella?” The question was delivered with a quiet severity he managed only by keeping a fierce grip on his emotions—emotions that threatened to erupt in a bout of rage and desperation. She couldn’t leave. If she left, he’d be forced to chase her down. His father’s voice resonated through his head.
You’re a Baggett, by God. You donotlower yourself to such plebian behavior.
“Ella?” he pressed when her silence broke through his father’s posthumous rant.
“Away, Liam. I’m going away.”
“Where? There aren’t any rooms on the island.”