Mr. Wicked

by Maya Hughes

  “I have.” There were so many things I’d wanted to talk to her about. Theories I had about shows and books, but it was never the time. Killian and I talked at our weekly basketball games, but he was not the person to discuss the real origins of The Doctor.

  A fifteen-minute quiz later, she was finally satisfied that I wasn’t just screwing with her and had in fact watched and enjoyed a lot of the same shows she did over the years.

  “Wow, you’re full of surprises today, John.”

  “I’ve always been full of surprises. Have you written your speech yet?” Her bouncing abruptly stopped.

  “I’m not giving a speech.” Her voice pitched up at least three octaves.

  “You are co-best man, aren’t you? I’m pretty sure you’re expected to give a speech.” She blanched in her seat, freezing mid-chew.

  8

  FRANKIE - PRESENT DAY

  I could not give a speech. I would not give a speech. Despite what people thought about me because of the club I ran, I was not great about being on display, and even worse, if I needed to speak.

  Things had been going so well in the car, it was easy to forget this was John Grimsby I was talking to. Maybe it was because of Killian getting married, and John being the only other person I had in the city. The only person who knew me as Frankie. Killian had already moved on from the part of life in my club, which meant I didn’t see him as often as I had before.

  And once Killian and Rachel had kids, forget about it. Kids changed everything. It would be a wonder if I saw them more than a few times per year. John was in the same boat as me. Although, I’m sure he had more friends than I did. Hell, I hadn’t even had anyone to call when I got a flat tire. How pathetic was that?

  “I’m going to defer to you on that one. I don’t have a speech.”

  “There’s still time. I’m sure you can come up with something,” he said it like it was no big deal. Like standing up in front of everyone, trying to keep the panic from suffocating me was an easy little thing to get over. My palms were sweating just thinking about it.

  “Can’t you do it? Please, I’ll do anything.” I begged with the Goobers box pressed between my hands.

  “Anything, Frankie?” He glanced over at me with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. I nearly choked on the last of my candy and whipped back to staring straight ahead. The playful flirtation pissed me off. We weren’t in high school anymore.

  He thought it was a joke. It wasn’t a joke, even after all these years. And it pissed me off even more that I cared about him flirting. That it still made a small part of me giddy that he liked to play these games. Snap out of it woman. No, screw that. Time to finally shut him up.

  The traffic crawled and it was well into the evening. Darkness enveloped the car other than the headlights and taillights of the cars around us. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to him, getting up on my knees.

  “What are you doing?” He glanced over at me, his eyes wide and his hands tight on the steering wheel.

  “Anything, Grim,” I said in answer to his earlier question. I leaned over the center console and got close to his face. So close I could smell him. Peppermint. It hadn’t changed. I wonder if he still tasted like it. He slammed his head back against the headrest. I slid my hand down onto his thigh and rested it there. His muscles bunched under my hand, and he sucked in a sharp breath. I smiled and bit my bottom lip. Looks like he was finally on the other end of the flirting cannon. Let’s see how much he liked it.

  “What did you have in mind?” I batted my non-existent eyelashes at him. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and that made it all worth it.

  “Stop screwing around, Frankie.” He tried to shake my hand off his leg, which made him tap the brake and sent me flying into the dashboard. My head whacked off the windshield, and pain radiated from the top of my head. Shit! That’s what I get for trying to be saucy.

  “Shit, Frankie. I’m sorry.” He reached for me, but I shoved myself back into my seat, clicked the seatbelt back in place, and rubbed the throbbing sore spot on my head. My wounded ego—well that was a whole different matter. I don’t even know why I did it. Well, I did know why. It was because even after all this time, I wanted John to like me.

  I wanted what we had in high school to be real. I’d always kept my distance, because who wanted to have these types of feelings for a guy who broke your heart in high school? A guy you had your first real kiss from at seventeen?

  “Don’t worry about it, John.” I stared out the window. It was my fault for trying to be playful. Who knows what the hell possessed me to even do it? Goobers mixed with talking sci-fi and I forgot myself. Forgot about our past and enjoyed the moment.

  He kept making noises like he wanted to say something. All these years. All this time. And here the two of us were, in a car that transported me back to high school. It wasn’t a clunker like in high school, but it smelled like peppermint and shaving cream. It smelled like John.

  And I needed to get out of the car before I became the girl I was before. The one who believed in happily-ever-afters. I wasn’t her anymore. I rubbed my wrists under my bracelets. They jingled in the silent interior of the car. I’d changed and so had he.

  The gravel crunched under the tires of his car as we pulled up to the front of the hotel. He grabbed my suitcase out of the back, and we wheeled everything up to the massive manor house. As we entered the lobby, one of the managers came up to us.

  “Miss Archer, it’s wonderful to see you again. Is the rest of your family coming? Or will they be staying at the house?” he glanced behind me, blocking my way to the front desk. I should have checked in under a different name. Of course, the hotel would have noticed my name. My family came here often when they stayed at the beach house during the summers.

  “No, it’s just me. I’m here for the Thorne wedding. No one’s staying at the house.”

  “Oh, what a shame, but we are delighted to have you here.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to step around him, but he blocked my way. The raised voices from the checkin desk had me craning my neck to see around him. There were at least five people standing there, looking pretty irate.

  “I’ve upgraded your room to a suite, and here is your key.” He handed me the keycard and had a bellboy spirit my bag away before I could grab the handle. I hated having them take it, preferring to take my bags up myself, but in this place, I’d have probably had to wrestle the bags from the bellboy and manager, if I tried to take them up to my room. He’d looked like he was ready to have a heart attack when he saw me wheeling my bag into the lobby.

  “I’m going to go check in,” John said, dragging his bag toward the checkin desk. I tried to step away from the hotel manager, but he kept stopping me, telling me all about the newest upgrades, and how it would be wonderful for any events the family planned on having. The voices from the desk got louder, and people shouted into their phones. What the hell was going on?

  “I’ll let my mother know. I’m sure she’ll be in touch.” I said, trying to make it past him. John stepped up to the checkin desk.

  “Good evening,” said the weary brunette from behind the desk. She looked like she’d seen some shit. “How can I help you?”

  “Checking in.” John slid a paper across the desk and pulled out his credit card.

  “Mr. Grimsby. I’m sorry, but there seems to have been an issue with our reservation system.” She clacked away at her computer. Her ponytail bobbing as she glanced from screen to screen, her eyes darting to the other people a couple steps away from them.

  “Thank you so much, and I look forward to my stay,” I said, finally sidestepping the hotel manager who strode past the other guests and into the back. I shook my head trying to figure out what was causing the issue. None of the people standing around the desk looked pleased.

  “What kind of mix up?” John said, an irritated tone seeping into his voice.

  “It seems there were a number o
f rooms overbooked this weekend. There was another wedding, and the system didn’t keep track of everyone. And we don’t have any more rooms available.”

  “What do you mean overbooked? I booked in for two nights. I got a confirmation,” he said, keeping his voice firm, but even.

  I came up next to him at the counter. He rubbed his forehead in frustration.

  “What are you still doing here?” He asked glancing over at me. I slid my keycard onto the counter.

  “I don’t need a suite. I can just take a regular room,” I said to the woman behind the counter.

  “There aren’t any other rooms,” John said, turning to me. “They’re overbooked.”

  “I’m really sorry, Mr. Grimsby. We can put you up at the sister hotel only twenty minutes from here,” she said, doing her best apologetic-service-industry-worker face.

  “But the wedding is here,” I said, stabbing my finger into the marble counter. “Twenty minutes could be way more than that with traffic. He needs to be in the building.” What if he was late and couldn’t give his speech?

  “He needs to be here in this hotel. He’s the co-best man. He can’t be twenty minutes away. There’s the rehearsal dinner tonight. He needs to change,” I said, insistent with a little irritation creeping into my own voice.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. The last room was reserved for a preferred guest.” The brunette said, clearing her throat and quickly glancing over at me before zipping back to her computer.

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Preferred guest, meaning me. There was one solution.

  “You can stay in my room,” I mumbled.

  “What was that?” John said, leaning in closer.

  “Come on, you can stay in my suite,” I said, nodding my head toward the bank of elevators. I didn’t even check to see if he was behind me. Was I really doing this? Was I really spending the night with John Grimsby?

  #JOHN - NOW

  We made it to the rehearsal dinner by the skin of our teeth, skidding into the room just as everyone took their seats. A bead of sweat dripped down my back. Real Smooth. Frankie and I rushed to get ready in the room, and I spent most of the time trying not to imagine what she looked like getting changed behind the closed door of the bedroom. We made it to our seats at the table with Rachel and Killian.

  Killian and Rachel stood and came around the table. Killian and I shook hands and brought that in for a hug, while Rachel and Frankie exchanged hugs and kisses. We hugged and I apologized to Rachel for being late.

  A waiter came by with a cocktail with some kind of flower stuck in it. I plucked two from the tray and handed one to Frankie, who accepted it gratefully and downed most of it in one gulp. Rachel raised an eyebrow at her and then turned back to me.

  “Where have you two been?”

  “We just got here. I had an issue with my car, and John was nice enough to give me a ride.” I held out the chair for Frankie and she sat, letting me help her scoot it in. She was so distracted and nervous about the speech, she didn’t even put up a fuss about me helping her like she normally would have. Or maybe being trapped in a car with me for three hours tricked her brain into not hating me for a little while.

  “You went all the way back to the city in that traffic,” Rachel said, sitting down with a disbelieving look on her face. I froze mid-sit. Shit. I hadn’t thought anyone saw me. “You couldn’t have paid me to go back into the city and fight my way back out here,” she said, reaching for her glass.

  “What? No. I was running late and picked Frankie up on the way here.” I sat and fiddled with the cloth napkin, spreading it out across my lap.

  “But you were here earlier. I was on the steps of the hotel when you pulled up. I waved and everything, but I don’t think you saw me and then you sped off,” she said, taking a bite of her salad, not realizing she’d just blown my cover.

  I could feel Frankie’s eyes burning into the side of my face. Frankie put down her fork. I ducked my head and grabbed my fork, shoveling the salad into my mouth. I could hear the wheels turning in her head from where I sat. He drove all the way back to the city to get me. Why would he do that? What did it mean? Those were questions that ran through my head pretty much the entire trip. Why did I keep trying with a woman who seemed completely uninterested?

  “You drove all the way back to get me?” she asked, placing her hand on my arm. I peered over at her and wiped my mouth with the napkin before putting it back on my lap. The warmth of her hand seeped through my sleeve. Other than in the car, it was the first time I’d felt her hands on me in ten years. Twice in less than two hours. We were already setting a record.

  “I…I knew you’d only call me if it was a real emergency. It’s no big deal. You’d have done the same thing for me.” I stared into her eyes. Might as well come clean at this point. Her chocolatey eyes softened, and she smiled at me. A genuine smile. Not a teasing one. This was a real Frankie smile, and it made me feel things I hadn’t let myself feel for anyone in a long time.

  “Thank you, John,” she said, her smile still firmly in place.

  “And thanks for letting me share your room,” I said softly to her, leaning over. It was her turn to blush.

  “No problem,” she said gently and went back to her food. I still didn’t understand it, but I wouldn’t say I wasn’t grateful. It just seemed so out of character for her. Definitely not the Frankie I knew, but this wasn’t the time to try to figure out what the hell was happening. And it’s not like I had a good answer for that anyway. I’d enjoy the truce for as long as it lasted. I was sure, by the time the clock struck midnight after the wedding, things would be back to the way they were, and she’d be back to testing out her barbs on me.

  “Franks, you know John’s at my office now, right? I finally convinced him that he wouldn’t implode our friendship if he took the executive position.”

  Frankie glanced up, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “When did that happen?”

  “A few months ago. I decided to take some time off, take a step back. There’s no one I’d trust more, so I guilted him into it.” I hated that Killian brought this up. Having your best friend give you a position didn’t exactly scream business powerhouse.

  “That’s good. Glad you’ve got John there to have your back,” she said, taking another bite of her salad. I sat in stunned silence before I realized she was talking to me.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I asked, how is it working with Killian? I’m sure he’s a real pain in the ass.” Killian chuckled across the table, and I leaned in closer to Frankie. Her citrus smell tickled my nose.

  “You have no idea.” I said in a mock whisper, loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.

  “I’m sure if there’s one person who could keep him in line, it would be you.”

  I’d opened my mouth to respond when Rachel came around the table and hustled Frankie out of the room. The pair disappeared, along with Rachel’s best friend Dahlia and the rest of the bridesmaids for a little bit. Killian was spirited away by Rachel’s dad, and I sat there at the table on my own, trying not to think about what would happen tonight, when I was sleeping a door away from Frankie.

  Killian came back to the table and slid over into the empty chair beside me.

  “Look at you two not trying to murder each other with death stares. I think this is a first,” he said, glancing back at the doorway the ladies had headed out through.

  “We are both adults. We can be civil with one another for a full twenty-four hours.”

  “Since when? I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said, grabbing his drink from his spot at the table.

  “How does it feel? Marriage,” I said, leaning back in my seat, crossing my arms across my chest.

  “It feels beyond anything I can explain. She’ll finally be all mine.”

  “Was there ever a doubt?” I grabbed my drink and took a sip.

  “Fuck, man. If you only knew.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. I
remember the few months when he barely left his apartment when she left the city.

  “I’ve known you a long time, man. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s you never let anything get in the way of something you want.”

  “It…it wasn’t that easy this time. I had to be willing to lose her. I had to get out of my own way and show her just how much I loved her, which meant walking away if that’s what she wanted.” He ran his hands over his face.

  “Thankfully, it didn’t turn out that way.”

  “Yeah, or I’d probably not have actually been able to do that, she’d have had a restraining order out on me, and I’d probably be in jail.”

  “Probably.” Just then, the women came back like they had a little conspiracy going. They all sat and picked up their champagne. I was going to ask what they were all so giddy about when a clinking glass drew our attention to the table behind us. Rachel’s dad stood with her mom by his side and started his speech.

  “We are so happy that Killian’s been able to give our daughter so much of what she always dreamed of, and we’re lucky to have him as a part of our family.” Her dad’s speech brought tears to everyone’s eyes.

  It was go time. I clinked my knife against the glass on the table and stood. Frankie’s eyes got wide as saucers as she stared up at me. I could see her willing me to sit my ass down from her seat.

  I motioned for her to stand, and she shook her head. I bit back my laugh. Her eyes screamed, “I will kill you,” but I pressed on. I held out my hand, waiting for her to take it.

  “Come on, Francesca,” I taunted with a wide smile. Frankie hesitated, but stood, dropping her napkin, looking like she was ready to do battle. She took my hand and looked ready to take back every nice thing she’d said about me in the past few hours.

  “I wanted to say how happy Frankie and I are to be here to celebrate the wedding of Killian and Rachel. We’ve all been friends since high school, and we’ve all been through a lot together. We’ve always tried to do anything we could to make one another happy and help whenever we could. But as much love as friends can give, it’s nothing like the love of a partner.” The ladies in the room made little ‘aww’ sounds, and I knew I had them.