Call Me Irresistible Read Online Free PDF
Author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
“Lucy wasn’t.”
“She’s really good.”
“Let me offer up another scenario.” The groom’s petite mother bore down with the authority of a prosecuting attorney. “Is it possible that you—for reasons only you know—decided to capitalize on a perfectly normal case of bridal nerves?”
“No. That’s not possible.” She twisted the bronze bouquet ribbon through her fingers. Her palms had begun to sweat. “Lucy knew how much all of you wanted them together, so she convinced herself it would work out. But it wasn’t what she really wanted.”
“I don’t believe you!” Tracy’s blue eyes flooded with tears. “Lucy loves Ted. You’re jealous! That’s why you did this.”
Tracy had always worshiped Meg, and her hostility hurt. “That’s not true.”
“Then tell us what you said to her,” Tracy demanded. “Let everybody hear.”
One of the bouquet ribbons shredded in her damp fingers. “All I did was remind her she needs to be true to herself.”
“She was!” Tracy cried. “You’ve ruined everything.”
“I want Lucy to be happy just like the rest of you. And she wasn’t.”
“You figured all this out in one conversation yesterday afternoon?” Ted’s father said, his voice dangerously low.
“I know her pretty well.”
“And we don’t?” Mat Jorik said coldly.
Tracy’s lips trembled. “Everything was wonderful until you showed up.”
“It wasn’t wonderful.” Meg felt a trickle of perspiration slide between her breasts. “That’s only what Lucy wanted you to believe.”
President Jorik subjected Meg to a long, searching gaze and finally broke her silence. “Meg,” she said quietly. “What have you done?”
Her soft condemnation told Meg what she should have known from the beginning. They were going to blame her. And maybe they were right. No one else believed this marriage was such a terrible idea. Why should a confirmed loser think she knew better than all the rest of them?
She wilted under the powerful force of the president’s Mayflower blue eyes. “I—I didn’t mean—Lucy wasn’t . . .” Seeing such disappointment reflected in the expression of a woman she admired so much was even worse than enduring her own parents’ censure. At least Meg was used to that. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
President Jorik shook her head. The bridegroom’s mother, who’d been known to annihilate puffed-up celebrities in her television interviews, got ready to annihilate Meg until the cooler voice of her husband interceded. “We may be overreacting. They’re probably patching things up right now.”
But they weren’t patching anything up. Meg knew it, and so did Nealy Jorik. Lucy’s mother understood her daughter well enough to know Lucy would never subject her family to this kind of distress if she hadn’t made up her mind.
One by one, they turned their backs on Meg. Both sets of parents. Lucy’s siblings. The groomsmen and best man. It was as if she no longer existed. First her parents, and now this. Everybody she cared about—everyone she loved—had written her off.
She wasn’t a crier, but tears pressed against her lids, and she knew she had to get away. No one noticed as she began to edge toward the front doors. She twisted the knob and slipped outside only to realize her mistake too late.
Strobes fired. Television cameras whirred. The sudden appearance of a bridesmaid at the exact moment when the wedding vows should have been being exchanged set off a frenzy. Some of the onlookers in the bleachers across from the church rose to see what the commotion was about. Reporters surged forward. Meg dropped her bouquet, spun around, and grabbed the heavy iron knob with both hands. It refused to turn. Of course. The doors were locked for security. She was trapped.
The reporters rushed her, pressing against the security detail at the bottom of the steps.
What’s happening in there?
Has something gone wrong?
Has there been an accident?
Is President Jorik all
“She’s really good.”
“Let me offer up another scenario.” The groom’s petite mother bore down with the authority of a prosecuting attorney. “Is it possible that you—for reasons only you know—decided to capitalize on a perfectly normal case of bridal nerves?”
“No. That’s not possible.” She twisted the bronze bouquet ribbon through her fingers. Her palms had begun to sweat. “Lucy knew how much all of you wanted them together, so she convinced herself it would work out. But it wasn’t what she really wanted.”
“I don’t believe you!” Tracy’s blue eyes flooded with tears. “Lucy loves Ted. You’re jealous! That’s why you did this.”
Tracy had always worshiped Meg, and her hostility hurt. “That’s not true.”
“Then tell us what you said to her,” Tracy demanded. “Let everybody hear.”
One of the bouquet ribbons shredded in her damp fingers. “All I did was remind her she needs to be true to herself.”
“She was!” Tracy cried. “You’ve ruined everything.”
“I want Lucy to be happy just like the rest of you. And she wasn’t.”
“You figured all this out in one conversation yesterday afternoon?” Ted’s father said, his voice dangerously low.
“I know her pretty well.”
“And we don’t?” Mat Jorik said coldly.
Tracy’s lips trembled. “Everything was wonderful until you showed up.”
“It wasn’t wonderful.” Meg felt a trickle of perspiration slide between her breasts. “That’s only what Lucy wanted you to believe.”
President Jorik subjected Meg to a long, searching gaze and finally broke her silence. “Meg,” she said quietly. “What have you done?”
Her soft condemnation told Meg what she should have known from the beginning. They were going to blame her. And maybe they were right. No one else believed this marriage was such a terrible idea. Why should a confirmed loser think she knew better than all the rest of them?
She wilted under the powerful force of the president’s Mayflower blue eyes. “I—I didn’t mean—Lucy wasn’t . . .” Seeing such disappointment reflected in the expression of a woman she admired so much was even worse than enduring her own parents’ censure. At least Meg was used to that. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
President Jorik shook her head. The bridegroom’s mother, who’d been known to annihilate puffed-up celebrities in her television interviews, got ready to annihilate Meg until the cooler voice of her husband interceded. “We may be overreacting. They’re probably patching things up right now.”
But they weren’t patching anything up. Meg knew it, and so did Nealy Jorik. Lucy’s mother understood her daughter well enough to know Lucy would never subject her family to this kind of distress if she hadn’t made up her mind.
One by one, they turned their backs on Meg. Both sets of parents. Lucy’s siblings. The groomsmen and best man. It was as if she no longer existed. First her parents, and now this. Everybody she cared about—everyone she loved—had written her off.
She wasn’t a crier, but tears pressed against her lids, and she knew she had to get away. No one noticed as she began to edge toward the front doors. She twisted the knob and slipped outside only to realize her mistake too late.
Strobes fired. Television cameras whirred. The sudden appearance of a bridesmaid at the exact moment when the wedding vows should have been being exchanged set off a frenzy. Some of the onlookers in the bleachers across from the church rose to see what the commotion was about. Reporters surged forward. Meg dropped her bouquet, spun around, and grabbed the heavy iron knob with both hands. It refused to turn. Of course. The doors were locked for security. She was trapped.
The reporters rushed her, pressing against the security detail at the bottom of the steps.
What’s happening in there?
Has something gone wrong?
Has there been an accident?
Is President Jorik all