His Every Need

They rode the elevator to the seafood restaurant, and because it was early, they were quickly shown to a table. Nigel held out her chair and made sure she was comfortable before they ordered.

When his martini arrived, he nodded. “All right, love, what’s this about Trevor?”

Allie plunged once again into waters that were none of her business. “I think you should stay in Vegas.”

“What makes you think I was leaving?” Nigel stirred his drink with two speared olives.

“You mean you’re going to stick around? But Mags was headed back to England.”

“Was?” His eyes sharpened. “Have her plans changed then?”

“I don’t know, but I told her she should stay too. For Trevor’s sake.”

“Oh.” His gaze shifted to the table and he took a sip from his glass. “I thought she meant to stay for me. That she’d had a change of heart.”

“Look, Nigel, I shouldn’t butt in—”

“No, it’s all right, Allison.” He sighed deeply. “I talked to Rebecca a few weeks ago—she was wife number two—anyway, we’ve remained friendly all these years. I married her on the rebound from Mags, and it was a terrible mistake. Didn’t last more than a year, but I think Mags and I might have worked things out if I hadn’t jumped into it with Rebecca. In retaliation, Mags married her number two, that damn Spaniard.”

“So, why did you invite Rebecca to the wedding, knowing how Mags felt?”

“Rebecca’s married to an old chum of mine. Went to school with Clifford. Damn fine shot on the golf course. He once shot a birdie—”

“Nige, back to the guest list.”

“Oh, quite. Well, I thought we could put the past behind us, and once they were here, Clifford and I could play a few rounds. But you saw how Mags went barmy.”

“So, why not just uninvite them?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Don’t like to back down. It’s my wedding too, you know.”

Allie closed her eyes for a second. “Trevor nailed it, the two of you are morons.”

“I say, Allison.”

“No, I mean it. You and Mags have found each other again, after all this time. You say you love each other, you want to make amends with Trevor, but the minute you don’t get your own way, you cut and run. What is that about?”

Suddenly, Nigel sat up straight in his chair and became very starchy. “Not that it’s any of your concern—”

“I know it’s not. But sometimes you have to make compromises to be happy. And if Mags doesn’t want your ex-wife at her wedding, I think that’s a pretty reasonable request. Now, what about Trevor?”

Nigel drained his glass and motioned to the waiter. “What about Trevor? I’m staying in Vegas for the time being.”

“Have you told him you’re sorry? Have you asked him how he felt when the two of you left him and got married a zillion times?”

Nigel shifted uncomfortably. “We’re British, dear. We don’t sit around and talk endlessly about our feelings. Besides, he’s still upset about A

“Who’s A

Nigel glanced at the waiter. “Keep them coming, please. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long afternoon.” He gave Allie a look as dry as his martini. “Trev didn’t tell you about A

Her stomach fell fourteen stories and kept dropping. “No.”

“Trevor dated her a few years back. Nothing serious, but she was my fifth. Wife that is.”

Allie blinked. “You married Trevor’s ex?” No wonder he hated his father.

Nigel popped an olive in his mouth. “It’s not like he was serious about her. They casually dated for a couple months. I apologized.”

“You apologized? For marrying Trevor’s girlfriend?”

Nigel straightened. “She wasn’t his girlfriend at the time. They’d broken up, you see.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” she hissed.

“What do you want me to do? I’ve tried to get him to play a round of golf, but he’s always working.”

“You think bonding over a round of golf is going to fix this?” Did Trevor still care about this A

Her phone rang, breaking her train of thought. She groped in her bag and pulled it out. “Sorry, it’s Bry

“Take it, dear.” He sipped at his drink and glanced around the room.

“What’s wrong?” Allie said in lieu of greeting.

“I’m in trouble, Al.” Bry

Allie’s body froze. “Are you all right? Are you still at school?”

“Yeah, can you come and get me? Dad’s out on a job, and I’m in the principal’s office.”

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up and looked at Nigel. “I have to go. Bry

Nigel hopped up from his seat and pulled out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the table. “I’ll go with you, my dear.”

She didn’t waste time arguing but fled the restaurant, Nigel at her heels.

***

She and Nigel checked in at the front office and sat on stiff chairs, waiting to see the principal. Allie nervously clutched her bag in her lap.

Nigel reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Bry

It seemed like everything had gone haywire today. Bry

Allie glanced up at Nigel. For some reason, his casual, nonchalant air was calming.

A middle-aged woman with a short, wispy hairstyle moved toward them. “Mr. Campbell? I’m Mrs. Stanford, Assistant Principal.”

Allie stood up and held her bag in front of her. “I’m Allie Campbell, Bry

“Nigel Blake.” He rose and shook the woman’s hand.

“I can’t believe Bry

“Step into my office, please.”

Nigel stayed behind as Allie followed the vice principal. Her little sister sat in one chair, facing the desk.

Allie dropped to the other seat, her eyes sca

Bry

“Miss Campbell, your sister and another girl had a heated exchange and Bry

“Is that what happened?” Allie asked.

Bry

Allie glanced at Mrs. Stanford. “Do you know what this was about?”

“I believe one of our staff, Ms. Castor, is dating your father?”

“Oh, great.” Allie slouched in the chair and covered her eyes with one hand.

“We have a zero-tolerance policy for violence in this school. Bry

“Starting when?” Allie asked.

“Tomorrow. You can take her home now.” She stood, crossed the room, and opened the door.

“Come on, Nigel’s waiting.”

Bry

“Hello, my darling.” Nigel enfolded Bry

“What were you thinking?” Allie asked after they all climbed into the car.

Bry

“Enough with the shrugging. That Stanford woman said you threw the first punch.”

“Layla Anderson said some crap, and I just lost it.”

She refrained from asking anymore questions on the ride home. When Allie parked in front of her old house, she turned to Nigel. “Do you want to take the car back to the hotel?”

“Oh no, I can take a taxi.”

Inside the house, Nigel made himself at home on the saggy, ripped couch. He picked up the remote and flipped through the cha

“We don’t have cable, Nige.”

“Oh.” He looked a little forlorn.

“I’ll be right back. Do you want something to drink or eat? We never did get lunch.”