Page 2 of Robin and Marian
Choking on her laughter, Marian shook her finger at her. “Only because you’re the bride tomorrow! Or I’d try to teach you a lesson.”
Scarlett wasn’t listening. As soon as she got the apron on Marian, she was cooing, “Oh, cute! You look like a sassy French maid.”
“Scarlett!” She couldn’t take anything seriously. “Where’s Alan?”
“Oh! He can’t be bothered with this! He’s composing a song for me.”
Marian already had doubts about irresponsible Scarlett’s marriage to a man who was equally so. Alan O’Malley had come from a poor background, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d always been a dreamer; he was Robin’s best friend, a musician, and a prankster.
“Or he might not be,” Scarlett said, putting a finger on her lips. “He’s having a hard time working around the broken strings on his guitar. Maybe he’s out buying new ones.”
In other words, Scarlett had no idea. Their whirlwind romance was about as tumultuous as it had been in high school. When Scarlett’s father had died a year ago, Alan had impetuously showed up with a guitar in hand and serenaded her at the coffee shop to cheer her up. Scarlett had been so caught up by the romance that the two had announced their upcoming marriage a week later. Thankfully, Scarlett’s grandfather had made them wait a year.
Her redheaded friend led her from the foyer, talking fast, a habit Marian had learned to recognize from when Scarlett was talking herself out of trouble with her stern mother. “He’s doing really well on the business side of things, Marian—you’d be proud!” That year, Alan had taken a job as a sales agent for the Sherwood Branch at King Enterprises—a perfect fit for his charismatic personality—while Scarlett cooled her heels at Nottingham and learned how to run the branch with her brother and cousin. “See?” Scarlett said. “No need to worry about us. I told you we’d figure it out.”
Marian nodded, still feeling uneasy. Probably because it was so far from anything she’d ever do, especially after witnessing the demise of her parent’s own tumultuous relationship. Alan still seemed so temperamental and unsettled, but he was the love of Scarlett’s life, and Marian decided to be more supportive. “I’m glad everything worked out,” she said.
Scarlett gave her a distracted look like she didn’t quite believe her friend, but she was too harried to call her on it. “Everyone is here! Holly, Rachel, and McKenna are all upstairs in the game room.” Scarlett named all her most high-maintenance friends as she led Marian into the flour-infused kitchen. “I’m just going to check on them and I’ll be right back to see how it’s going.”
Marian laughed. “You’d better not be abandoning me! If the caterer comes and you throw me under the bus…”
“I’ll tell her that it wasallme!” Scarlett hugged her friend again and rushed out the door to smooth any ruffled feathers her friends might have for deserting them.
Marian faced the bowl. The ingredients were all on the counter next to it. Besides the cracked eggs, there was no way to tell what had gone in and what had not. Peering into the concoction, she picked out some flour, vanilla, and butter. She mixed it all together and then gingerly tasted it. It was missing sugar. Making a face, she consulted the recipe and began adding in cups of it when she heard a crash in a room outside the kitchen.
She stared at the adjoining door. It was not the one she’d come in, and as she stepped closer, she heard male voices and laughter on the other side of it.
“You’re a crazy man!”
“Robin!” one of the men shouted.“You cannot fix this!”
Her face went hot and she straightened, taking two steps away from the door. She should’ve known that the King estate was so vast that they could be holding Alan’s bachelor party at one end of the house with Scarlett’s bachelorette at the other.
She wasn’t ready to face Robin yet, not until the wedding day when she could easily avoid him in the crowd. Her feelings for him were just too… complicated. It had all started back in the day when she and Scarlett had spilled his stepmother’s Dior perfume all over her new Persian rug. Scarlett’s mother had a face as hard as a brick and a sharp tongue to match it. Robin had taken one look at the crying little girls and taken the blame, saying he’d shot the perfume at them. It had earned him a month of grounding… and it had also won Marian’s young heart. After that, it didn’t matter if Robin had fed their dolls to the family dog or tied their shoelaces together under the table; he was her hero.
But now his face graced the glossy covers of the most prestigious magazines, even as the columnists smacked their lips over Robin’s wild bachelor ways. It made it virtually impossible to think of what Robin used to be.
She wanted something steadier and more secure.And what was her problem, anyway?It wasn’t like Robin was falling all over himself for her. He hadn’t even noticed her on Scarlett’s graduation day when his sister had gotten her MBA—but as his voice grew closer, Marian backed away from the cupcake batter.
The door ripped open and she came face to face with Robin. Same laughing eyes, same devilish look under hawk-like brows. His dirty-brown hair had curled up in a stylish mess. He’d come straight from her memories—though older and more dashing, like he’d stepped through the glossy covers of those gossip magazines she despised. He was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and an athletic build—a modern day Robin Hood in black t-shirt and faded jeans. And she hated it!
His almond-shaped eyes turned appreciative when he saw her. “Are you new?”
Clearly he hadn’t recognized her. It wasn’t too surprising really—she’d hidden in the back room when the “infamous playboy” had come to visit his sister when they’d been roommates, but before she could explain, he was approaching her. “If it’s all the same to you, Mrs. Koch can’t know what we’re up to.” Marian recognized the name of their housekeeper. Clearly Robin was up to no good if he was hiding his latest mischief from her—never mind that he owned the place now. “I’m so sorry to mix you up in this,” he said, “but we need help cleaning this up.”
And then his hands were on hers. Was this how he treated his staff? Wait. The thought gave her pause. He thought she was the help? Scarlett had compared her to a little French maid. How galling. She was so caught up in her angry thoughts that she’d allowed him to pull her into the entertainment room where she saw the remains of a poker game. Smashed plates and glasses had tumbled from an immense—and broken—china cabinet.
“It’s not as bad as it looks…” Robin’s hand dropped from hers as he attempted to clean up the mess. He looked up at her under heavy lashes. “Honestly, if I’d known how pretty you were, I’d have smashed these sooner.”
She gasped as he winked at her. Robin! Was this really a case of mistaken identity or was he teasing her? “I have half a mind to get Mrs. Koch myself,” she threatened.
He smirked at that. “If you could find a broom first…”
So she could crack it over his head? Not knowing what to do, Marian caught sight of Scarlett’s fiancé. The ends of Alan’s auburn hair fell over a soulful eye as he stared down at a record he had saved from the mess. He’d recognize Marian if he saw her, but he was too caught up in reading the record label. It was a vintage Louis Armstrong vinyl. He turned it over in his sensitive hands.
“Robin, your stepmother is going to kill you,” a deeper voice boomed. “That’s her prized Russian collection.” Turning, Marian saw a giant of a man. She’d know John anywhere, even a decade later. His skin was rich brown, the color of the earth after a storm; his head was buzzed—his facial hair was different from when they were kids, of course—but he’d towered over them back then and now was no different. He was one of those who’d earned his nickname in Robin’s merry band, although no one could get away with calling him “Little John” to his face.
“My nephew is trying to teach me how to make a bull’s eye!” a young voice piped up.
