“Time.” Beth let her head fall forward before she looked up at Isobel. “Sorry.”
“Don’t bother apologizing to me. You’re the one I feel sorry for.” Isobel turned toward the seamstress and started going over the final alterations as Beth hit the accept button.
“Hi, Mom,” Beth said.
“So you’re not taking calls from your mother any longer?” the familiar, guilt-inducing voice said on the other end of the line.
“No. Of course not. My phone was across the room. I just couldn’t get to it in time.”
“So you say. I was just calling to tell you that after a hellish plane trip, your father and I have finally made it to the hotel. Where are you now, dear?”
“I’m in Isobel’s room. She’s having her final fitting.”
“Oh, how wonderful. Tell me what room she’s in, and I’ll come right up.”
Beth shot to her feet. “No.”
There was a pause on the other end. “What do you mean, no?”
“Uh, I just mean that there’s a lot of, um, stuff going on in here. It’s a little hectic.” Beth put her champagne down. There was no way that she was going to let her mother blow into Isobel’s room and ruin her friend’s lovely moment with her own drama. “How about I meet you down in the lobby instead? You can tell me all about your trip over a nice, relaxing glass of wine?”
A long silence stretched on the other end of the line. Beth held her breath.
“A glass of wine does sound nice,” her mother conceded.
“Great. I’ll meet you down there in five minutes.”
Beth hit the end button before her mother could change her mind.
“I have to go,” Beth said.
“I heard,” Isobel said. “I’ll come down and save you just as soon as I can.”
“Are you sure? You could hide out up here all night if you want. There’s no reason for both of us to get pulled into this pit of suffering.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Isobel said with a shrug and a smile. “Besides, I told Jordan that I would meet him down there for drinks before dinner with the family this evening. And you’re family as far as I’m concerned.”
Tears started to well up again in Beth’s eyes. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid I’d get you all wrinkly.”
“Love you too,” Isobel said.
Beth started for the door, but Isobel stopped her. “Hey, you might need that,” she said pointing to Beth’s purse next to her half-full champagne glass.
“Ah, thank you,” she said, and went back over to get the purse. She paused for a second and looked down at her champagne. What the hell? She could use a little bracer before going down there. She emptied it in three quick gulps.
Beth rushed down the long, ivory-papered hall to the elevator. She hit the down button twice and waited.
And waited.
The Kensington Hotel was the Bay Area’s oldest and most elegant hotel—emphasis on the oldest. Usually, that was a big part of its charm. But right now, waiting for the single elevator in the place to creak its way up to the fifth floor, it felt more maddening than charming.
Beth glanced toward the stairwell. It probably wasn’t the best idea. She was feeling more than a little light-headed from downing that champagne on an empty stomach, and with her luck, the elevator doors would open the second she set foot on the stairs.
She glanced down at her phone. Five minutes had already passed since she’d hung up on her mother, which meant that she’d be down there now, arms crossed and counting every extra second that she was late.
Beth went for the stairs. She was only a little wobbly on her heels as she tore down the first two flights.
Her eyes were on her feet as she rounded the curve on the third, and she smashed into a wall. At least that was what it felt like. Her purse flew from her hands. The contents spilled out all over the floor as she stumbled back a step. Two strong hands wrapped around her arms, keeping her from tipping over and landing on her ass.
Beth looked up into the most gorgeous pair of ocean blue eyes she had ever seen. Her jaw dropped open as she sucked in a breath. The man standing in front of her was perfect—or damn near it.
He stood a little over six feet tall. All his features—his cheeks and chin, his nose and brow—were strong without being sharp. Even so, his lips were the only part of him that looked any kind of soft. The barest hint of stubble outlined his jaw, but it somehow fit with his finely tailored designer suit and his tousled, dark, short-cropped hair.
“Are you okay?" he asked after a long moment had passed.
Oh God. She’d been staring at him.
“Yeah, I’m…um….” Great. It wasn’t enough that she’d been ogling the poor man; now she couldn’t even string a sentence together. Beth snapped her gaze down to her feet and saw everything she had been carrying strewn across the landing. That brought her back to herself. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said, finally letting go of her arms.