Forget Me? Not

Forget Me? Not

Darlene Gardner

Books by Darlene Gardner

Romantic Comedies

Once Smitte & Twice Shy

Three’s Comedy (boxed set)

The Misconception

Bait & Switch

Snoops in the City

Three For All (boxed set)

Clash of Hearts

Baby It’s You

Her Very Merry Mistake

Forget Me? Not

Contemporary Romance

The Christmas Cupid

Winter Heat

To The Max

Romantic Mysteries

Sound of Secrets (A Saltwater Romance)

Lowcountry Lies (A Saltwater Romance)

Paranormal Mystery

The Dead Ringers serial (Volumes 1-9)

Copyright © 2016 Darlene Gardner

Cover art by P.K. Gardner

Smashwords Edition

Publishing History

Harlequin Duets 2000

Originally part of She’s Got Mail!/Forget Me? Not

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Darlene Gardner.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Afterward

More eBooks by Darlene Gardner

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

You’re breaking our engagement six weeks before the wedding?

The woman’s incredulous voice carried over the high-back leather bench seat to where Zach Castelli sat in the next booth. He took a swig of water and located the nearest clock, which was mounted on wooden paneling across the restaurant. His sister was thirty minutes late for their dinner date, which he could have predicted. Marlee wouldn’t be Marlee if she could keep track of dates and times. He sighed. Without his sister to occupy him, it would be nearly impossible to avoid overhearing the death knell of a relationship.

It’s six and a half weeks, not six, a cultured, modulated male voice replied. I thought it would be better to tell you now than to wait until the wedding invitations were mailed.

I mailed the invitations two days ago.

The woman had lowered her voice, but Zach still heard her clearly. The acoustics in this restaurant were better than those at the rock concert he’d attended at the Miami Arena the other night. Whatever twinge of guilt he might have felt for listening to words not meant for his ears vanished in curiosity about why the man had waited so long to end the relationship.

Nevertheless, it’s best that we cancel the wedding sooner, rather than later. It’s early enough that you should be able to recover most of the deposit money. You know how much in demand the country club is for these types of functions. They’ll be able to book the place without any trouble. You might even be able to return your wedding dress, considering you haven’t worn it.

Reid, will you stop talking about money?

The woman was clearly distressed, but she was making an obvious effort to keep her composure. Her voice was lower in pitch than most female voices, causing Zach to think of textured satin. He wrinkled his nose. Where had that thought come from? Before he could figure out an answer, the woman spoke again. You just told me that you no longer want to marry me. I deserve an explanation.

Zach nodded in agreement and leaned out of his booth and looked over his shoulder in the hope of glimpsing the occupants in the next one. Only Reid was visible, and he fit Zach’s mental image to perfection. He wore a tailored dark suit over a white shirt and a silk tie in a muted pattern. His dark hair was precision cut, and he had the fair skin of a man who spent all his time in an office. The kind of jerk who would value money over romance.

Of course you deserve an explanation, Amanda.

So her name was Amanda, Zach thought. From the sound of her voice and her name, she was probably as cool and cultured as her companion. Zach took another swig of water.

You, better than anyone, know how many hours I’ve been putting in at the law firm. It’s imperative that I make a good impression, so the firm’s demands on my time are not negotiable. This simply isn’t the best time to take on the added responsibility of marriage.

You make our relationship sound so… She seemed to be groping for a word.

Unromantic, Zach supplied under his breath.

…oppressive, she finished.

Oh, come now, Amanda. That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? I’m trying to say that relationships take time, and I don’t have that time to give. You don’t either, for that matter. You’re a highly independent woman. Your job consumes most of your time, and your mother takes up the rest. I don’t think this marriage is in your best interest, either.

Don’t you turn the tables on me, Reid Carrigan, she said with a composure Zach admired. Reid was trying to shift the blame for the broken engagement from his shoulders to hers, and she was having none of it. Good for her.

I was doing nothing of the sort, Reid said with a stilted voice. He obviously hadn’t enjoyed being put in his place. I was simply stating that this isn’t the right time for either of us to marry.

When will be the right time? In case you haven’t been keeping track, we’ve been going together for ten years.

Ten years! Zach leaned out for another glance at Reid Carrigan, who appeared to be in his mid- to late-twenties. If the woman were the same age, they’d been dating since high school. Zach shook his head. He’d recently turned thirty, and he could barely remember the names of the girls he’d dated in high school.

I rather think there won’t be a right time, Reid said.

She didn’t answer for a long time, and Zach was rooting for her to hold on to her dignity in the face of Reid’s callousness. Amanda wasn’t some woman this Reid character had wooed and hastily decided to wed. She was somebody he had known for more than a decade.

When Amanda spoke, it was in an unwavering voice. So this is it? You’re saying those ten years no longer mean anything?

Of course they mean something. I’ll treasure each and every one of those years. You’ve been a major part of my life, Amanda. Letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I feel strongly it’s the right course of action for both of us.

Silence descended over the table, and Zach wondered why Amanda had wasted so many years on somebody as self-serving and sanctimonious as Reid. He wouldn’t spend ten minutes with the guy, even if it were only across a pool table. Conversation buzzed around him, but Zach tuned it out, listening closely for Reid’s next comment.

Could I have the ring?

Excuse me?

Grandmother Carrigan’s ring. It’s a family heirloom, and since you’re no longer going to be part of the family—

Take your precious ring, Amanda retorted, and Zach pictured her wrenching it from her finger and flinging it at him. In actuality, she was probably handing it over with the most civil of manners, but Zach hoped not. He disliked Reid more with each overheard word.

I appreciate that, Amanda. My fondest wish is to see my bride wearing this ring one day.

Whatever reply Amanda would have made was cut off by the arrival of a waitress wearing a tight short skirt. She set a pair of menus on their table and, oblivious to the tension radiating from her customers, proceeded to recite the specials of the day before leaving them to decide on their culinary choices.

Zach leaned back in his seat, a little ashamed for having eavesdropped. He typically didn’t waste time on self-recriminations, but he couldn’t remember ever listening in on a private conversation. In this case, the only way he could have avoided it was by leaving the restaurant. He looked at the clock again. Since it was obvious that Marlee wasn’t going to show, that’s probably what he should do.

What are you going to order? Reid’s voice again drifted over the back of the booth.

Do you honestly expect me to have dinner with you after you broke our engagement? Amanda was talking again, and Zach was listening. He couldn’t help himself.

I suppose I do see your point. Reid paused. Shall we leave then?

"You can leave, she said, putting emphasis on the pronoun. I’d like to be alone."

Be reasonable, Amanda. How will you get home?

I’m a highly independent woman, remember? I can manage to call myself an Uber.

But—

Get out of here, Reid. Her soft voice shook slightly. In the next moment, Reid left the booth and strode out of the restaurant, his head high and his posture erect, as though he hadn’t engineered the clumsiest, most dispassionate breakup in the history of relationships. Zach was tempted to follow him and shake him by the fancy lapels of his suit jacket.

Are you ready to order? The same waitress who had been serving Reid and Amanda stood alongside Zach’s table, smiling at him. She was petite with a cherubic face framed by a profusion of dark, curly hair, and Zach thought she was barely in her twenties.

Actually, since it looks like I’ve been stood up, I’m going to get going, he said, throwing a few bills on the table.

Marlee had heard about this restaurant, which was located on a busy commercial street in the heart of Fort Lauderdale, from one of her customers. The decor was a combination of rich, polished wood and green, leafy plants. The dishes listed on the menu contained ingredients such as tofu, bean sprouts and baby carrots. Definitely not Zach’s kind of place. Sorry to take up a table.

No problem. The waitress slanted him another flirtatious smile before she picked up the bills and walked away. He stood, a little amused by her attentiveness. He turned in the direction of the exit and heard a sniffle.

The sound was so soft that at first he wasn’t sure he had identified it correctly. He stopped and listened. There it was again. Undeniably a sniffle.

Aw, hell. Amanda whatever-her-last-name-was seemed to be crying.

Zach couldn’t stand it when a woman cried. It made him want to do something, anything, to stem the liquid flow.

Here goes, he thought, before his brain kicked in with all the reasons he should change his decision. He pasted on a smile, pivoted, took a few steps and slid into the booth across from a woman who didn’t look anything at all like he’d pictured.

She had thick golden hair that she wore pulled back in a bun, but tendrils of it had escaped and softened the effect. Her face was a pale oval with a smattering of freckles that had been almost entirely camouflaged by makeup. Her quivering mouth was wide and full, her lashes surprisingly thick.

She was, without a doubt, the most appealing woman he had seen in a long time. His smile turned genuine.

Hello, Amanda, he said.

***

Amanda Baldwin lifted her chin and encountered the wildest shirt she had ever seen. It was shot through with color and looked like an artist had taken a blank canvas and thrown paint at it. Above the shirt was a sun-bronzed face that contained really blue eyes. He had a high, wide forehead, a dimple in his right cheek and a slight cleft in his chin. An unruly mop of brown hair with golden highlights completed an attractive package, one she was sure she had never seen before.

Do I know you? She blinked a few times to dry the tears that had pooled in her eyes. One of them escaped and slid down her cheek. She wiped it away, horrified that this man had caught her crying. She never cried. Not only was it undignified, but a waste of time where Reid was concerned.

The name is Castelli, he said, extending one of his hands. She stared at it, noting that it was attached to an arm as sun-kissed as his face. The arm, muscular and long, was sprinkled with tiny, golden hairs. Zach Castelli.

Do I know you? she repeated.

He grinned, tipping his head to the side with boyish charm, not at all insulted that she had ignored the hand he offered. If he’d perfected that look as a child, Amanda would bet his mother had never yelled at him for sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

You know me now. I just introduced myself. His answer was as cheeky as his smile.

Amanda stared at him, open-mouthed. Look, Mr. Castinelli—

It’s Castelli. But you can call me Zach. Everybody does.

Mr. Castelli, she began again, but he interrupted again.

Zach.

Okay, then, Zach, she conceded. I was about to order dinner—

Good. I haven’t ordered yet, either. He picked up one of the menus on the table and opened it. Have you ever eaten here before? Maybe you can recommend something, as long as it doesn’t have sprouts. I can’t make myself eat a sprout.

She stared at him. Was the man dense or was he deliberately ignoring what she had just said? Mr. Castelli—

Zach. He peered at her from over the menu, his blue eyes twinkling. That convinced her that it was time to speak bluntly.

Zach, I’m not in the mood for company. I’d prefer it if you left.

I don’t believe that, he said, setting down the menu. Nobody likes to eat alone. Take me, for example. I was supposed to meet my sister Marlee here. She’s wonderful, even if people do find her a bit bizarre. That’s probably because she’s a body painter. Anyway, Marlee’s great when it comes to the big picture. But she tends to forget details, like the time and place she was meeting her brother for dinner. That’s why I’m alone. When I saw that you were alone, too, I thought why should we both be alone when we could be together?

You’re deliberately misunder… Amanda’s voice trailed off before she could finish her thought as something belatedly registered. Your sister paints bodies?

He nodded, set down his menu and rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his knuckles. Uh-huh. She has a little storefront on Hollywood Beach. She paints as much of your body as you want. Some people go all in, but others get small paintings. A flower, a butterfly, a snake, a lion. She uses this special ink that wears off after a couple of washings. I’ll take you there and you can see for yourself, maybe even get yourself painted.

I’m not the sort of woman who gets her body painted, Amanda said. Their conversation was growing more absurd by the minute. And what do you mean you’ll take—

A butterfly would look pretty right there, he interrupted, reaching across the table and touching the hollow of her throat. Since she was