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Same Time, Next Year
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Return to the Manning Family with book 6 in this fan-favorite series of classic romances, by #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber.
James Wilkens was almost a Manning groom—because he almost married one of the Manning sisters. With that broken engagement behind him, he spends New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas…where he meets Summer Lawton. She’s just suffered a painful betrayal, and James promises her that in a year, she’ll be over it. To prove his point, he makes a date to meet her in Vegas Same Time, Next Year. Except it turns out to be more than a date—it’s a wedding!
Originally published in 1995
Same Time, Next Year
Debbie Macomber
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
PROLOGUE
New Year’s Eve—Las Vegas, Nevada
James had been warned. Ryan Kilpatrick, a longtime friend and fellow attorney, had advised him to stay clear of the downtown area tonight. The crowd that gathered on Fremont Street between Main and Las Vegas Boulevard was said to be close to twenty thousand.
But James couldn’t resist. Although he had a perfectly good view of the festivities from his hotel room window, he found the enthusiasm of the crowd contagious. For reasons he didn’t care to examine, he wanted to be part of all this craziness.
The noise on the street was earsplitting. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. The fireworks display wasn’t scheduled to begin for another thirty minutes, and James couldn’t see how there was room for a single other person.
A large number of law-enforcement officers roamed the area, confiscating beer bottles and handing out paper cups. A series of discordant blasts from two-foot-long horns made James cringe. Many of the participants wore decorative hats handed out by the casinos and blew paper noisemakers that uncurled with each whistle.
James remained on the outskirts of the throng, silently enjoying himself despite the noise and confusion. If he were younger, he might have joined in the festivities.
Thirty-six wasn’t old, he reminded himself, but he looked and felt closer to forty. Partners in prestigious law firms didn’t wear dunce caps and blow noisemakers. He was too conservative—some might say stodgy—for such nonsense, but it was New Year’s Eve and staying in his room alone held little appeal.
Impatient for the fireworks display, the crowd started chanting. James couldn’t make out the words, but the message was easy enough to understand. It amused him that the New Year’s celebration would be taking place three hours early in order to coordinate with the one in New York’s Times Square. Apparently no one seemed to care about the time difference.
As if in response to the demand, a rocket shot into the air from the roof of the Plaza Hotel. The night sky brightened as a starburst exploded. The crowd cheered wildly.
Although he’d intended to stand on the sidelines, James found himself unwillingly thrust deeper and deeper into the crowd. Luckily he wasn’t prone to claustrophobia. People crushed him from all sides. At another time, in another place, he might have objected, but the joy of the celebration overrode any real complaint.
It was then that he saw her.
She was struggling to move away from the crowd, with little success. James wasn’t sure what had originally attracted his attention, but once he noticed her, he couldn’t stop watching. Joyous shouts and cheers rose in the tightly packed crowd, but the young woman didn’t share the excitement. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the world.
She was fragile, petite and delicate in build. He saw that she fought against the crowd but was trapped despite her best efforts.
James soon found himself gravitating in her direction. Within minutes she was pressed up against him, chin tucked into her neck as she tried to avoid eye contact.
“Excuse me,” he said.
She glanced up at him and attempted a smile. “I was the one who bumped into you.”
He was struck by how beautiful she was. Her soft brown hair curved gently at her shoulders, and he was sure he’d never seen eyes more dark or soulful. He was mesmerized by her eyes—and by the pain he read in their depths.
“Are you all right?” he felt obliged to ask.
She nodded and bit her lip. He realized how pale she was and wondered if she was about to faint.
“Let me help.” He wasn’t some knight who rescued damsels in distress. Life was filled with enough difficulties without taking on another person’s troubles. Yet he couldn’t resist helping her.
She answered him with a quick nod of her head.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.
“I’ve been trying to do exactly that for the last twenty minutes.” Her voice was tight.
James wasn’t sure he could do any better, but he planned to try. Taking her by the hand, he slipped around a couple kissing passionately, then past a group of teens with dueling horns, the discordant sound piercing the night. Others appeared more concerned with catching the ashes raining down from the fireworks display than with where they stood.
Perhaps it was his age or the fact that he sounded authoritative, but James managed to maneuver them through the crush. Once they were off Fremont Street, the crowd thinned considerably.
James led her to a small park with a gazebo that afforded them some privacy. She sank onto the bench as if her legs had suddenly given out from under her. He saw that she was trembling and sat next to her, hoping his presence would offer her some solace.
The fireworks burst to life overhead.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She stood, teetered, then abruptly sat back down.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not really.” Having said that, she promptly burst into tears. Covering her face with both hands, she gently rocked back and forth.
Not knowing what to do, James put his arms around her and held her against him. She felt warm and soft in his embrace.
“I feel like such a fool,” she said between sobs. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“We’re often blind to what we don’t want to see.”
“Yes, but…Oh, I should’ve known. I should’ve guessed there was someone else. Everything makes sense now…I couldn’t have been any blinder.”
He shrugged, murmuring something noncommittal.
She straightened, and James gave her his pressed handkerchief. She unfolded it, wiped away the tears and then clutched it in both hands.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Talking might help,” he said.
She took several moments to mull this over. “I found him with another woman,” she finally said. “He wanted me to come to Vegas with him after Christmas, and I couldn’t get time off from work. So I said he should go and have fun with his friends. Then…then I was able to leave early this afternoon. I wanted to surprise him on New Year’s Eve and I drove straight here. I surprised him, all right.”
And got the shock of her life, too, James mused.
“They were in bed together.” Her words were barely audible, as if the pain was so intense she found it difficult to speak. “I ran away and he came after me and…and tried to explain. He’s been seeing her for some time…. He didn’t mean to fall in love with her, or so he claims.” She laughed and hiccuped simultaneously.
“You were engaged?” he asked, noting the diamond on her left
hand.
She nodded, and her gaze fell to her left hand. She suddenly jerked off the diamond ring and shoved it into her purse. “Brett seemed distant in the last few months, but we’ve both been busy with the holidays. I noticed he didn’t seem too disappointed when I couldn’t get time off from work. Now I know why.”
It was preferable to learn about her fiancé’s roving eye before she married him, but James didn’t offer platitudes. He hadn’t wanted to hear them himself.
“The problem is, I really love him.” She shook almost uncontrollably. “I want to claw his eyes out, and yet I know I’ll always love him.”
“Are you hoping to patch things up?”
She raised her head. “No. It’s over. I told him that and I meant it. I could never trust him again, but you know what?” She hesitated and drew in a deep breath. “I think he was grateful when I broke the engagement. He doesn’t want me back—he wants her.” She stiffened, as if bracing herself against an attack.
“It hurts right now, but it’ll get better in time,” James said, squeezing her hand.
“No, it won’t,” she whispered. “It’ll never get better. I know it won’t.”
James partially agreed with her. Part of him would always belong to Christy Manning. Even now, he had trouble remembering her married name. She wasn’t Christy Manning anymore, but Christy Franklin, and her husband was the sheriff of Custer County, Montana.
“Yes, it will, but it’ll take a year,” James said briskly.
“Not with me. I’ll never get over Brett.”
“You believe that right now, because the pain’s so bad you can’t imagine it’ll ever go away, but it does, I promise you.”
Slowly she turned to study him. “You know? It sounds as if you’re talking from experience.”
He nodded. “Five years ago the woman I loved broke off our engagement.” He laughed derisively. “You see, there was a small problem. She married someone else while she was engaged to me.”
“That’s terrible,” she said with a sigh of righteous indignation. “What kind of woman would do that?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. You see, her parents are good friends of mine, and I realize now they pressured Christy into accepting my engagement ring. She was fond of me and agreed because she wanted to make her family happy. I don’t think she ever realized how much I loved her.”
“Do you still love her?”
It might have been a kindness to lie, but James found he couldn’t. “Yes, but not in the same way.”
“Despite what I know, I can’t picture myself not loving Brett.” She straightened and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I suppose I should introduce myself since I’ve cried all over your shoulder. I’m Summer Lawton. From Anaheim.”
“James Wilkens. Seattle.”
They exchanged brief handshakes. Summer lowered her gaze. “I wish I could believe you.”
“Believe me?”
“That it’ll take a year to get over Brett. It doesn’t seem possible. We’ve been dating for nearly five years and got engaged six months ago. My whole life revolved around him.”
At one time James’s life had revolved around Christy.
“We were apart for less than a week,” Summer continued, “and I was so lonely, I practically went through contortions to get to Vegas just so we could be together tonight.”
“The first three months are the most difficult,” he told her, remembering the weeks after the breakup with Christy. “Keep busy. The worst thing to do is stay at home and mope, although that’s exactly what you’ll want to do.”
“You don’t understand,” she insisted. “I really love Brett.”
“I really love Christy.”
“It’s different for a man,” she said.
“Is it really?” he countered. “A year,” he reiterated. “It’ll take a year, but by then you’ll have worked through the pain.”
Her look revealed her doubt.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I just don’t think it’s possible. Not for me. You see, I’m not the type who falls in love at the drop of a hat. I gave everything I had to Brett. It’s like my whole world caved in and there’s nothing left to live for.”
“Shall we test my theory?” he asked.
“How?”
“Meet me back here on New Year’s Eve, one year from tonight.”
“Here? In this gazebo?”
“That’s right,” he said. “Right here.”
“Same time, same place, next year.”
“Same time, same place, next year,” he echoed.
CHAPTER ONE
Summer picked up the mail on the way into her apartment and shuffled through the usual bills and sales flyers. The envelope was there, just as it had been on the first of the month for the past eleven months. A letter from James.
He couldn’t possibly have any idea how much she looked forward to hearing from him. The first letter had come shortly after they’d met on New Year’s Eve and had been little more than a polite inquiry. She hadn’t written him back mainly because she was embarrassed about spilling her heart out to a complete stranger.
His second letter had arrived February first. He told her about the weeks immediately after his breakup with Christy, how the pain had intensified when he’d expected it to lessen. His honesty and generosity touched her heart. It seemed uncanny that her anguish mirrored his so completely. She wrote back then, just a short note to tell him how she was doing, to thank him for writing.
That was how it had started. James would write at the beginning of every month and she’d answer. Gradually their letters grew in length, but were never any more frequent. She liked the formality of exchanging letters, preferring that to the quick and casual convenience of e-mail.
In the year since Summer had met James Wilkens, she’d been tempted to phone him only once. That was the day Brett got married. Ironically, his wife wasn’t the girl he’d brought to Las Vegas, but someone he’d met recently. Summer had felt wretched and holed herself up in her apartment with a quart of gourmet ice cream and three rented movies. She’d made it through the day with a little fudge swirl and a lot of grit.
Holding James’s letter in her hand, Summer tore open the envelope and started reading on her way into the apartment.
“That’s from your lawyer friend, isn’t it?” Julie, her roommate, asked. Wearing shorts and a halter top, Julie wandered barefoot through the apartment, munching on a carrot.
Summer nodded, kicked off her shoes and lowered herself onto a padded wicker chair. Her eyes never wavered from the page.
“He wants to remind me of our agreement,” Summer said, pleased he hadn’t forgotten.
“Agreement?”
“To meet him in Vegas on New Year’s Eve.”
“Are you going?”
Summer had always planned to follow through on her promise, although she probably should’ve thought twice about meeting a stranger. But he wasn’t really a stranger. She felt she knew James, was comfortable with him. He was a friend, that was all, someone who’d been there when she needed him.
“Are you going?” Julie repeated.
Summer looked up and nodded.
“What’s James like?” Julie asked, sitting across from her. The two of them had been close ever since high school and both of them were in the production at Disneyland. Summer had been especially grateful for Julie’s unwavering friendship in the past year.
“He’s older,” Summer said, chewing the corner of her mouth as she tried to recall everything she could about him. “I’d guess he’s at least forty. Kind of a stuffed shirt, to tell you the truth. He’s about six feet tall and he must work out or something because I remember being surprised by how strong he was.”
“Is he handsome?”
Summer had to smile. “You know, I don’t actually remember.”
“You don’t remember?” Julie was incredulous. “I realize you were upset, but surely you noticed.”
“
He has very nice brown eyes and brown hair with some gray in it.” She raised her hand to her own hair and wove a strand around her finger. “I’d say he’s more distinguished-looking than handsome.”
“Is there something romantic going on between the two of you?”
Summer did care for James, but not in the romantic sense. He’d helped her through the most difficult night of her life. Not only had she clung to him and cried on his shoulder, but he’d stayed with her until the early hours of the morning, listening to her pain, comforting and reassuring her.
“We have a lot in common,” was all she’d say to Julie’s question about a romance.
“I have a feeling about you and the mysterious James,” Julie said, her forehead creased in a frown. “I think you’re falling in love.”
Love? Not Summer. She’d decided last New Year’s Eve that she was finished with love. It sounded melodramatic and a bit ridiculous to be so confident that she’d never love again, but she’d come to that conclusion the minute she found Brett with his girlfriend. Her feelings hadn’t changed in the past eleven months.
Although he’d never said as much, she was sure James felt the same way after losing Christy. It’d been six years, and from what she knew about him, there wasn’t a woman in his life even now. There wouldn’t be a man in hers, either.
This didn’t mean that Summer never intended to date again. She’d started going out with other men almost immediately. Pride had prompted her actions in the beginning. Later, she wanted to be able to write James and tell him she was back in the swing of things. He’d applauded her efforts and recounted his own endeavors in that area after Christy had broken off the engagement. As she read his account of various disastrous dates, she’d laughed, truly laughed, for the first time in months.
“You’re going to meet James on New Year’s Eve, and everything will change,” Julie said with a knowing smile.
“What do you mean, everything will change?”
“You won’t see him as just a friend anymore,” Julie predicted. “You might be surprised to discover there’s more to him than you suspect.”