A Wedding Tail

by Casey Griffin

  She knew it was time that something changed in her life. That did not, however, mean she needed a man. What she needed was to figure out a way to turn her recent bad luck around and book some clients, make some money, and buy a house. Once and for all, she had to prove to her mother that she was just fine on her own. Before she wound up walking down the aisle herself.

  8

  Well, Dog My Cats

  The dark streets of San Francisco went by in a blur outside Levi’s van. Zoe stared out the passenger window unseeing, distracted by the memory of her mother lying in that hospital bed, not to mention the reminder of her upcoming date with her potential future husband.

  It was ridiculous. It was absurd. Her heart began to pound, her fingers wrapping around the door handle, ready to dive out and run away as fast as she could. The moment she began to resent the entire setup, an image of her mother’s black eye popped into her head and she resigned herself to the date once again.

  That day alone had filled her emotional bottle to the brim, and then some. She craved the release in tension that was waiting for her at home in her night stand. After the day she’d had, she was going to have to bring out the big guns.

  “How is your mom doing?” Levi asked as they approached the Financial District. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t said a word on their drive all the way back to the Hilton.

  “She’s okay,” she said. “It was a mini stroke, so the doctor says she’ll be all right with treatment. It might take some major changes in her life, but I’ll be there to help her through it.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “You seem close with your mom.”

  “She’s the only family I have. I’ve had to look out for her since my dad passed away five years ago from a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  They’d stopped at a red light, waiting for it to turn. She could feel his eyes assessing her from the driver’s seat, but she avoided his gaze.

  “Thanks,” she said, dismissively, not really wanting to talk about it. “This is definitely going to take some readjustment for the both of us, but once she’s on her feet again, I think she’ll get back to being independent. She does pretty good on her own, all things considered.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked her.

  The light turned and he finally had to look away. As he took off, Zoe could hear instruments jostle around in the open back, ready for his band’s next gig.

  “I think she relied pretty heavily on my dad, so I’ve taken to doing a lot of his jobs now. It sounds like I’ll be taking on a bit more until Mom gets back on her feet. Maybe I’ll even move in for a while.”

  Zoe cringed, wondering how her mother would turn that one around. First, her plans to buy a home had been delayed, now she was moving back home at the age of thirty? Yeah, that looked great. Just what every independent woman strives for.

  Levi pulled up to the door to the Hilton’s underground parking. When it rose, he pulled inside and began the downward spiral to where her van was parked. “Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  Her van came into view. All the yellow police tape had been ripped down, the contents stuffed back inside and the doors shut. They’d called her an hour earlier to let her know they’d finished with it.

  She wondered if they’d found anything. Evidence that pointed to Juliet. Or maybe even the bridezilla’s mother. She couldn’t forget the implied threat she’d made before walking down the aisle. Maybe she blamed Zoe for the wedding falling apart just like her daughter did.

  Of course, she’d informed the police of all this over the phone. They understood her not sticking around for them, but she had to go into the station at some point to give an official statement.

  Levi eyed her van as they drew close. “Strange that it was only your van that was hit.”

  “It wasn’t a coincidence. I suspect it was Juliet, but there’s no way to know for sure. On the phone, the police said the only security cameras are placed at the entrance and exit to the place, but not inside the parking garage itself.” Zoe frowned. With all the extra traffic the expo had brought in that day, the vandal could have been anyone that attended the expo.

  “You don’t think it could have been a random attack?” he asked.

  “No way.” She shook her head. “That dress was a Marchesa. It was worth over eleven grand. Instead of stealing it, they mutilated it. They wanted to send a message, make a point. This is a wedding expo, after all. Chances are, whoever did this must have known its worth or at least had some idea.”

  Levi pulled into the space next to her vehicle. Putting his van in park, he leaned back and stared at her in the silence. “Someone out there trying to sabotage you? Sounds scandalous.”

  The word “sabotage” had Zoe second-guessing her revenge theory. Could it have been a rival trying to cause trouble for her? The first person that came to mind was Chelsea.

  Levi was still staring at her. “Well, from what I saw at the wedding last weekend, something tells me you’ll be able to handle whatever’s going on.”

  “You’re damned right, I will,” she said. “I can handle anything.”

  “Anything? Can you handle me?”

  Zoe snorted. “Oh, I think it’s you who can’t handle me, rock star.”

  He smiled, his eyes softening a little. “Try me.” His voice kind of rumbled, deep and low, like when he sang.

  That tone, that look, had Zoe anxious to get home to her toys. The man certainly knew how to turn on the charm when he wanted to. He could be the king of cheese one minute, making her stomach ache from laughter, then the next he’d have her aching in an entirely different place.

  His easygoing nature seemed to find ways to open her up, to tell him things she hardly discussed with her friends. But as he gave her that daring, seductive look, the one he probably used to make his groupies swoon when he was on stage, she could feel herself opening up in a whole new way. She felt herself tempted toward things she normally ignored. Maybe Addison was right. Levi’s persistence was paying off.

  The mere thought of him the night before had left her vibrators inadequate, as though her body was telling her it needed the real deal. And from the sneak peek she’d gotten in the vestry at Juliet’s wedding, she suspected he was as real as it got.

  Would it be so bad to give in just this once? she wondered.

  She bit her lip. Levi glanced down to watch her mouth, his own lips parting as though he wanted to be the one to bite it.

  Oh, she wanted him. Bad. Her recent sexual frustrations could attest to that. But it was such a slippery slope. Could she stop with just the once? Or would she crave him again and again? And then how many times before the lines began to blur, before they grew comfortable with each other, started staying the night, met each other’s family?

  No. She shook her head, chuckling. “Try you?” she repeated. “Sweetheart, I’d leave you crying the blues.” Zoe reached for the door handle and hopped out of the van.

  She needed to put distance between herself and Levi, to get home and relieve that building temptation. But he had other plans. As she rounded the back of his van, he hopped out and blocked her path.

  “If you leave me hanging, that won’t be the only thing blue.” He slid his hands over her hips and around her waist.

  Zoe’s knees buckled slightly, and she braced herself against the van, like everything was cool. She was cool. Not at all affected by that cocky smile or the feeling of his large hands on her.

  “I can sell you some merchandise that will help you out with that.”

  “Oh, right. The sex toys.” Obviously her acting skills had failed her because his gaze darkened beneath his charcoal eyeliner. “I might need a demonstration.”

  “Sorry. I’m not a hands-on instructor.” She dug through her purse for her keys.

  “I’d even settle for an oral explanation,” he said.

  His teeth flashed as he brought his face close, his mouth within inches of her neck. He didn�
��t kiss her, but she could feel his five o’clock shadow tickle her, scraping against her skin deliciously.

  Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like rubbing over her body, down her stomach, between her legs. Zoe tried to shake it off, to shove him away, and yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from sliding down that slippery slope that would surely end in Levi’s bed.

  The thought brought an eager smile to her lips. “I have been told I have quite the mouth on me.”

  “How about putting that mouth on me?” His body pressed against hers, and she could feel what a mouthful he would be. She half-moaned at the mental image it conjured.

  Levi smelled amazing, especially as it replaced the harsh hospital scent still trapped inside her nose. She inhaled him like something she wanted to devour. His lips hovered close to her neck, her jaw. All she had to do was turn her face and kiss him. To grab him. To tear off his clothes in that parking garage.

  Before she’d consciously made the decision, her arms came up. But instead of embracing him, she pushed him away. She didn’t even realize she’d done it until he was stepping back, a surprised look on his face. As surprised as she felt.

  What was that? Maybe it was instinct after so many years. Maybe she wasn’t even capable of letting herself have sex with a man anymore.

  Belatedly, she laughed, like she was being playful and not totally screwed up. “Thanks a lot for the ride. I really appreciate it, but I think we’d better stop.” She fished out her keys. Turning her back on him, she rushed to unlock the driver’s-side door.

  “Do you want me to?” he asked, finally.

  Her hand froze on the door handle. “What?” She glanced back at him, still feeling dazed, torn between her body’s need for Levi and her decision to remain unattached.

  “Do you want me to stop?” He stood with his hands in his pockets where she’d pushed him away. He waited patiently for her answer, like he really wanted to know.

  As persistent as he’d been, he’d never been pushy, or overbearing, or handsy like some guys could get when they flirted with her. He’d never pushed farther than she’d allowed him to. Than she’d invited with her own actions. And here he was giving her a genuine choice, an invitation to make her desire clear. All she had to do was say “no” and she had no doubt he would back off.

  No. She’d said it a hundred times to a hundred guys before Levi. It was easy. No.

  But right now, her desires weren’t even clear to her, and obviously Levi was picking up on that. Well, maybe her physical ones were as clear as crystal champagne flutes, but it was nothing her vibrator at home couldn’t take care of. That’s what she’d normally do and not think twice about the guy she turned her back on.

  And yet, as Levi’s open invitation for rejection hung in the air between them, the word “no” just wouldn’t come to her lips.

  Instead, she opened her door and hopped behind the wheel. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “That’s not a no!” he said, the amusement ringing clear in his voice.

  She slammed the door shut but grinned to herself as she started up the van. She wasn’t sure why she was letting this back and forth flirting to go on, getting sucked into it. Maybe because it had been so long since she allowed herself to flirt, to bask in the attention of a man.

  But that was wrong, she told herself. It’s wasn’t like she was going to let it go anywhere, and she certainly couldn’t keep stringing him along. She had to be absolutely, 100 percent clear with him. They still had two more days at the expo together, after all.

  The radio was barely a whisper, but the familiarity of the voice coming through her speakers caught her attention. She turned it up. It was Bob. He was making a statement about the most recent San Fran Slayer killings.

  “… can assure you that we are doing everything we can to bring the person to justice before they hurt anyone else. We encourage people to keep calling in with any information that might help us solve this case. Thank you.”

  Zoe turned the volume down. Bob was good at hiding it while he was hanging around the rescue center, but as a person who was good at masking her emotions, she knew the case was getting to him.

  She pulled out of the parking space. In her mirror, she saw Levi start after her in his van, following up to the street level and out.

  When she slowed down to turn onto Washington Street, her foot hit the pedal wrong because it took a second too long to come to a stop. She regretted not changing her heels before getting behind the wheel—wardrobe changes were a necessary inconvenience when you wanted to look as fabulous as she did.

  There weren’t many cars cruising the Financial District this late at night. It was mostly a nine-to-five neighborhood. But traffic or no traffic, she thought she should pull over and put on different shoes because she just couldn’t seem to hit the brake properly. And considering San Fran’s notoriously steep streets, that wasn’t something you wanted to mess around with.

  The intersection ahead lay at the crest of a hill. The light turned red. This time, when her foot came down on the brake pedal, she realized the problem wasn’t because of her footwear. The pedal gave a little resistance before slowly sinking toward the floor.

  Her van approached the stop line, crawling forward like it had a mind of its own. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. She pressed harder, but it was metal on metal.

  That moment seemed to freeze inside her cab. Everything felt so quiet, so serene, as her van gracefully rolled through the intersection like she intended it to do so.

  Lights glared into Zoe’s side window. The car coming through the green light honked its horn. Tires screeched as it slammed on its brakes.

  Zoe’s fingers tightened around the wheel, the leather squeaking in her grip. She braced for impact. But the car skidded to a stop inches from her door.

  She imagined the person yelling and swearing at her inside their cab. She waved her arms frantically at them, but even if they could decipher her spastic gestures, what were they supposed to do?

  A few more horn honks and she coasted through the intersection. Zoe focused on the path ahead. Her breath caught in her lungs as she saw the severe downward slope before her. She instinctively pumped the break a few more times, but she might as well have been tap dancing. The metal clicked against the floor.

  After a stunned moment, she remembered the parking brake. She lifted her foot and applied it steadily, but with no effect. Now she really began to panic.

  Her eyes darted from one side of the road to the other, automatically squeezing shut as the van sailed through the next intersection. A painful heartbeat, a gasp of air, and she was through unharmed.

  Options flashed through her mind. For a panicked moment, Zoe considered diving out of the van while she was still going slow enough, but in the time it took her to think it, the van’s speedometer rose by ten miles an hour.

  She wondered if she should crank the wheel and pull a quick U-turn. No, she decided. At that speed, it would probably roll the van.

  Staying the course and hoping to slow down at the bottom wasn’t an option, either. Too many intersections, too many possible T-bones. And this was San Francisco. Who knew when the hill would taper off?

  The Financial District may have been quiet on the weekend, but it was only a matter of time before she ran out of less-busy streets. And luck.

  Bright lights, colorful banners, and dangling lanterns farther down the hill caught her eye. Chinatown. Flashes of headlights whizzing though intersections told her it wasn’t a quiet Saturday night. But when was it ever?

  “Come on, Zoe.” She gritted her teeth and gripped the wheel tighter.

  As she came to the next intersection, she saw a figure silhouetted by the lights. She laid on the horn, blasting a warning. The pedestrian’s head whipped toward her.

  She saw the whites of their eyes before they leaped out of the way. Zoe winced as intense headlights poured in through her passenger window. A horn honk. An angry sh
out.

  Once she was safely through, she drifted the van to the side, inching it closer to the line of cars parked along the street. With a nudge of the steering wheel, she planned on grazing the side of the next car, just a gentle kiss. But when the van connected, it was more like a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

  Metal scratched against metal. Plastic siding crumpled. Zoe yelped in surprise as she was thrown to the side. Her head cracked against her driver’s-side window, stars bursting before her eyes.

  The wheel jumped beneath her hands. She clamped down and braced for the next vehicle. And the next one. Each time, it threatened to throw her off course, but Zoe held it steady, glancing the van off each one to create friction—not to mention a long list of insurance claims.

  Gradually, her vehicle began to slow, but not quickly enough. The busy streets of Chinatown were coming up. Erratic shadows and flickering lights hinted at crowded crosswalks.

  The next intersection came too soon. A long delivery truck was passing through, and she was on a direct collision course with it.

  There was no other choice. At the corner, she cranked the wheel for a sharp right turn.

  Rubber chirped on pavement. Body slamming against the door, she felt the tires lift off the ground. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought the van would roll. Then the wheels set back down, slamming her back in the seat.

  The steering wheel tore out of her death grip, the van taking off with it. Her world spun. When it came to a stop, Zoe was staring down the grill of the approaching delivery truck, headlights blinding her.

  A deep horn reverberated through her brain. The truck’s tires skidded on the pavement, its cab juddering, rubber smoking.

  Zoe’s hands flew up. She cringed, expecting glass, flying debris, or a whole truck to come crashing through her windshield.

  She held her breath, her eyes clenched shut. The moment seemed to drag on forever, and then they connected.