by Sara Celi
I guess that made me the shepherd.
“You did great.” I pointed at her knee, which now had a large bandage wrapped around it. “Almost no screaming.”
She laughed. “They should have put me under. I hate blood.”
“Me too.”
We were in the middle of the endless stretch of time between when the attendants fixed her up, and when they’d finally allow us to leave. Already, we’d been at the hospital for over three hours, but this didn’t bother me too much. I had no connection to the wedding. But I did have a connection to Margot. One that had deepened.
That night.
“Ugh.” Margot threw her phone down on the bed. She’d been playing with it for the last few minutes. “Another text from my mom. She’s hoping we don’t have to skip the whole reception.”
“Is she?” I folded the magazine I’d been reading and placed it on the chair next to mine. “We’ve probably missed dinner.” I glanced at the clock over her bed. “Yep, we definitely have.”
“Trust me, no one is missing us, despite what she says.”
I cocked my head. “I beg to differ. I am absolutely sure they’d love to see you trip and fall again.” I chuckled at the memory. “I mean, it was a little funny. Especially since you weren’t hurt too badly.”
“So embarrassing.”
“It could have been worse. You could have broken your nose or tore down half of the decorations.”
“I might as well have.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the phone. “My parents have sent no less than six text messages since we’ve been here.”
“They care about you. You’re their daughter.”
She cringed. “I had a feeling I would do this, that I would find a way to embarrass myself at this wedding. Just the kind of thing that would happen to me.”
“It’s all in how you look at it, Margot. You can either see this as a huge humiliation, or you can consider it a memorable way to get out of being part of something that you didn’t want to attend.” I smiled. “Besides, your fall managed to upstage the bride on her big day. I’d call this round of the Basic Bitch Olympics for you.”
She laughed just as the attending nurse walked through the thin sliding glass door that separated our section of the emergency room from the rest of the chaos. The woman carried a small white bag.
“I have good news,” the nurse said. “We don’t have to do any further testing on your knee, and the injury isn’t as bad as it looks. The emergency room doctor says that it’s a bad sprain.”
Margot let out a deep sigh of relief.
“You’ll want to change the bandage on the cut at least once before you go back to Cincinnati, and we’ve put a call in to the pharmacy down the street for some anti-inflammatory medicine. You should be able to pick it up shortly.” She placed the white bag on the edge of the bed where Margot sat. “I put some gauze, tape, and a few clips in here, so that you won’t have to worry about getting those.”
“That’s nice of you,” I said.
The nurse tossed me a curt nod. “Now, all you have to do is get her that medicine. The drug store we called has a drive-thru.” She patted the bed. “In a few days or so, your girlfriend will be as good as new.”
“Oh, she’s not my—” I stopped myself and waved away the rest of the sentence. Who was I kidding? I wanted Margot to be my girlfriend, so what did it matter that people already assumed she was? “Thanks.”
The woman turned back to Margot. “Whenever you’re ready, we can sign you out, and you’ll be on your way.”
“Great,” Margo said as she picked up the white bag.
Once we had the medicine in hand, I drove the rental car to the hotel and pulled it into the circular valet lot in front of the main entrance. A valet helped Margot hobble out of the car, and I raced to her side, where I clasped my arm around her waist.
“And we’re back,” I said under my breath. I stood closer to her than I ever had, and my nostrils inhaled the fragrant mix of orange and cinnamon from her hair. Even with her bum knee, she was gorgeous and charming—the disaster at the wedding had only made her more desirable.
What could I say? I was a sucker for the beautiful and the broken.
“Should we go up to the hotel room?” she asked as she hobbled up the wide set of short steps that separated the driveway from the lobby. “I guess that makes the most sense because we already missed everything else.”
“Are you sure?” A few steps inside the lobby I stopped, because I heard the band playing in the opposite part of the hotel, in the direction of the reception location. “Sounds like the party is in full swing.”
She pointed to the bulbous bandage around her knee. “We can show off my new hardware. I’m sure everyone is dying to see it.”
“Well, they are concerned. Think about those text messages your parents sent you.”
“They’re my relatives, James. They’re legally required to care about me.”
“Maybe so, but if they care, chances are the rest of the folks at this wedding care some too.” I straightened so I could get a better look at her heart-shaped face. “And besides, don’t you want to see how drunk Julie is right now? I bet she’s smashed.”
“She does drink.”
“Do you know if they sprang for the full bar?” I smoothed my now rumpled tuxedo jacket. “Because after this experience, I could definitely use a beer or five.”
“Oh, I’m sure they did.” She nodded in the direction of the ballroom. “Let’s do it.”
“Right next to you,” I said.
I looped my arm around her waist and escorted her to the reception, which didn’t seem to be slowing down. We’d missed dinner and the speeches, but we arrived with enough time to hear the band and order a few drinks.
First, though, we found her parents at a round table in the center of the room.
“Oh, honey.” Margot’s mother grabbed her by the cheeks and pulled her into a hug as soon as she saw her. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m great, Mom.” Margot shouted to be heard over the band. When she extracted herself from her mom’s embrace, she smiled at her. “Just a sprain and a cut that looks worse than it is. Nothing more.”
“I’m so glad.” Margot’s mother smoothed some of Margot’s hair away from her face. “And I’m glad you showed up at least for some of the reception.”
“Who did the reading in her place?” I asked.
Margot’s mother looked at me for the first time. “Oh, yes, I need to thank you. You really helped my daughter out.” She added a curt nod. “And Nick stepped in to do it. He has a great history with the family, so it made sense.”
Margo stiffened next to me.
“That’s fantastic,” she said, still halfway yelling.
“You’ll need to thank him for stepping in and doing that for you,” Margot’s mother said.
Before either of us could reply, the band took a short break, and many of the guests on the dance floor returned to their seats. Margot’s mother motioned for the two of us to take the empty places at their table, which still had our names on little markers in front of them. The plates had already disappeared, but sweating glasses of water and empty glasses for wine remained. I poured Margot some Chardonnay from the bottle in the center of the table then gave myself some.
“Cheers.” I lifted my glass to hers.
“Cheers,” she repeated to me.
We both took long gulps of wine. Just as we finished our much-needed drinks, Julie and Trip arrived at our seats. Oh, great.
“So glad you’re back from the hospital.” Julie’s nasally voice pierced my eardrums, even as she slurred her words a little. She also held a glass of white wine in her hand, and Trip had to support her. “We were so … so … so … so worried.”
“Yeah, you seemed really concerned,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
Julie sneered at me. “And how would you know? You’re nobod—”
“It’s a sprain,” Margot repl
ied. “And again, I’m sorry it interrupted your wedding.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Julie gestured with the hand holding her wine glass. Some of it spilled onto her hand and then her wedding dress. “We’re still married, and it didn’t mess up too many of the photos. I’m sure our photographer got a few funny ones of it as it happened.” She turned to me. “Leave it to Margot, right?”
I didn’t answer. If I had, I might have said something I’d regret. How could someone, especially blood related, be so cruel to Margot? It was beyond me.
“Anyway, Nick did a great job in your place.” Julie scanned the room. “Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him all night.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Margot said, and her jaw tensed
“Well, regardless, he saved the day. Thank God.” Julie glanced at the rest of the party. “It’s a good thing, too.”
Margot nodded.
“The doctors didn’t seem to think it would take long to heal.” I place a protective hand on Margot’s shoulder. I didn’t like the way Julie was talking to her, and she needed to be careful about what she said next. Everything that came out of Julie’s mouth trod a fine line between observation and insult. “She will be fine in a few days.”
“Glad to hear it.” Julie patted Margot’s other shoulder. “Thanks again for coming to the wedding.”
Then she flounced away, and Trip followed.
Margot’s face fell. “I still feel awful about all of this,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Eh,” I replied. “When she looks back on her wedding, she’ll barely remember your fall, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She turned to me. “You know what? I was so worried about showing up at this wedding alone. I was terrified to face her, her fiancé, and the rest of the family. I thought I would look like a failure by comparison.” A rueful laugh escaped her mouth. “And I wanted to do anything to prove I wasn’t a loser.”
“That’s the real reason that you asked me to this wedding, isn’t it?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Yes. You aren’t mad, are you?”
I shook my head. “Of course not.”
“And I hope you realize I’ve had a lot of fun with you this weekend.” She hobbled a little closer to me. “And I can’t think of anyone better to be with.”
“Me neither,” I breathed, and our gazes held for a long moment. There it was again, the moment I knew I should make my move. I should grab her, kiss her, and claim her. I should show her I wanted more than just friendship.
But I was scared. Scared of commitment. And it got the best of me again.
“Looks like the band is about to start up again,” I said instead. “We can dance to a few songs if you want.”
The magic charge between us evaporated like a drop of water on hot asphalt.
“What, with my bum knee?” Margo replied. “I don’t think so.”
The five-piece band reclaimed their spots on the stage and began playing a remix of disco music. Inside, I cursed myself for being so inept with women. Here was someone I really liked, and I couldn’t get over my own shortcomings. Couldn’t even make it to first base with her. If anyone was a loser, it was me.
“Why not? We can make up a new dance, hobbling on one foot.” I raised my voice as several guests resumed their places on the dance floor. A few began doing what seemed like a choreographed line dance. Maybe, if we walked out there, I could reclaim the moment and get to the next level with her. “We could tear it up out there.”
She regarded the twisting and turning party-goers then let out a laugh that lit up her face. “No, thank you. I’m good. We don’t need to prove anything to them.”
“So, you’re saying—”
“Let’s go upstairs.” She jerked her head in the direction of the exit. “I’ve had enough of this wedding.”
Had this been anyone else, “let’s go upstairs” would have been an invitation to sleep with me, an almost direct statement about the way things were, and where they would lead.
But I was beside James Newhouse, not some average excuse for an alpha male. And as a result, I had no idea if he would do what I wanted—which was to tell me once and for all if he would also keep me in friend category. After his gallant treatment of me after the fall, I didn’t think I could take being just another woman in his life. I wanted to be the woman.
Immediately.
We rode the elevator in silence, and he helped me hobble the short distance to our room.
“You should take some of those anti-inflammatories in a few,” James said as we reached the door. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Thanks,” I said, more than a little defeated. “I’ll do that.”
If I hadn’t fallen in the middle of the wedding, would he have kissed me by now?
If I was sexier, would he have kissed me by now?
If I was more direct, would he have kissed me by now?
James unlocked the door and we entered the room. Still in the puffy pink dress, I collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, then fished around on the bed for the remote control and turned on the TV. A made-for-TV movie about a teacher who slept with one of her students seemed to be the only thing worth watching.
I let out a big sigh and stretched out on the bed.
Whatever I had planned for this weekend, it had all gone epically wrong. While I lay there, James entered the bathroom and took off his rumpled tuxedo. When he came back out again, he wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a white undershirt.
“Are you going to change?”
I stared at the ceiling, exhausted. “In a minute.”
“I’m hungry.” I turned my head to see him crossing to the table in the far corner of the room. He picked up the in-room dining menu and flipped through it. “Maybe we should order something.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Okay.” He pointed at the television. “What’s this?”
“A really sad excuse for acting.”
He stopped in the middle of the room and watched it for a few minutes. Harper Lewis, an actress I recognized from her stint on the soap opera Pacific Palisades, tried to hide her growing attraction to the star of the basketball team she coached. No one on the faculty at her tiny southern California school seemed convinced.
“You’re kidding me,” James said when the movie cut to a commercial for silver and gold investments. “This is terrible.”
“What? A Love Called Brandon isn’t on your list of must-sees?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “We are not watching the rest of this.”
“Nothing else on.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Not how I envisioned this night was going to go.”
“Me either.”
We sat in silence for a moment, and I wondered if he understood my true meaning.
“That’s my fault.” I finally said, wincing. “And I’m sorry this trip has been a total disaster.”
“I wouldn’t call it a disaster. That’s too strong of a word. I’ve had fun.”
“You have?”
He nodded, and I sat up. From my spot on the bed, I inhaled his intoxicating scent—a mix of peppermint and pine. I wanted that scent all around me. I wanted to smell it on my clothes, in my hair, and on my skin. The longer I was around him, the more the need grew.
“I’m glad you had fun,” I murmured. “Even with the hospital trip. I really wanted this to be a good weekend.”
“I had a good time because I had a chance to spend time with you.” He moved a little closer to me. “I like you, Margot. I hope you’ve noticed that.”
“Yes, I have.” My cheeks heated, and a pulse of electricity coursed through my body. “And I like you too. I have, ever since the moment you rescued me in the parking lot.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you did need some rescuing that day, didn’t you?”
Then, for the first time, his hand clasped mine. My breath caught in my throat, and my h
eart beat faster.
“Listen, it’s taken me forever to say this.” He looked at our entwined fingers then back into my eyes. “I guess that means I’m terrible with things like this. But—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
James looked in its direction then turned back to me. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” I moved my hand from underneath his and placed it on his bicep, which felt more defined and sculpted than I’d anticipated. With any luck, I’d get to see that, and much more, in just a few moments. “Just disregard it. I’m sure they have the wrong room.” I glanced at the TV, which had returned to the movie. “Besides, we have a bad movie to watch.”
“I guess if you’re determined to watch it, we could live tweet it,” he said. “Sort of like hate watch.”
“I’m down for that.”
But then the knock came again, louder the second time. Whoever stood on the other side of the door didn’t want to go away.
“What if it’s your parents, Margot? We should probably get the door.”
I sighed. “You’re right.”
Other women didn’t have this kind of problem, did they? They didn’t have a knack for getting interrupted just when the moment became good with the object of their affection. They couldn’t. This had to be something that happened only to me.
The third time, the knocking turned to banging.
“I’ll get it.” James stood from the bed.
“No,” I said, a little louder than I meant to speak. “Let me.”
I moved off the mattress, grabbed the keycard from atop the nearby desk, and limped to the door, just in time for the fourth and final knocking. And when I opened it, my breath left my chest in a hard push.
Nick.
Damn it. I should have looked through the peephole.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed then looked back at James, who had refocused on the television. As quickly as I could, I stepped out of the room into the hallway, and shut the door behind me. In a way, I wanted to wall off my past from my potential future.
