Last Call (31 page)

"I…um." Shit.

"Hey, don't freak out on me girl. I didn't mean it literally. I'm just playing with you."

Feeling like an idiot, I closed my eyes. The tears were rolling down my cheeks before I even realized I was crying.

"Damn, Savy," Gage cursed, and the car slowed as he let off the gas. Glancing between me and the road, he spoke. "Don't cry when I can't hold you. What did I say? I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I feel so stupid," I admitted, shaking my head. Did he not
want
me to love him?
Did
I love him? I didn’t want to lose him, I knew that for sure. "Gage, after this weekend we need to talk about us."

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I swiped the tears from my cheeks and sucked in some air; releasing it slowly and trying to control my emotions.

"Why are we being so damn serious right now anyway?" I finally snapped out a little too loudly.

Sitting forward, I turned the radio up and pressed my presets, looking for a song we could sing to. I stopped when I recognized the cheerful music of Plain White T's and began to sing along. Gage laughed and joined in, and for a while the tension was washed away.

It was close to three when we finally arrived on the outskirts of Charleston, and I offered to drive the rest of the way into the city.

"I got this. The GPS and I are old friends now," Gage insisted.

I watched the scenery as we drove closer and closer. We crossed the Cooper River Bridge and I watched down below as Harbor Tours crisscrossed the river. A ferry puttered towards Fort Sumter and sailboats cluttered the water on this beautiful late spring day.

"This city is fabulous," Gage commented as he drove through the center of town. "Forgive my history lessons - I'm Australian, you know - but obviously it's an old city. All of these buildings look like they’re from the revolution."

I laughed at his "I'm Australian" excuse. It was a beautiful city, and I’d missed it.

"Do you want to come back here after you graduate?"

The question caught me off guard. "Uh, I really don't know. I mean, I've thought about it for sure. I miss the old, southern laid back charm of Charleston."

The GPS began to wind us down some of the old historical streets.

"So tell me about your house. You lived there all your life, right?"

"Yep. You're about to see it. It's actually designated as a National Historic Landmark. It's originally from seventeen-ninety, but my parents restored it and another neighboring property to make it what it is today."

When the GPS called out “Your location is five hundred feet on the right," I sat up straighter. I was both excited to see what Gage thought of my parents’ house, as well as exceedingly nervous. If he didn't understand how much money I came from, I was pretty sure this weekend was about to show him.

Pulling up in front of our Church Street home, Gage whistled as he pulled his sunglasses from his face.

"Nice."

The black wrought iron gate swung open and out bounded my father gracefully; smiling and waving. For a moment I forgot all of the problems and stress this weekend was going to bring, and I yelped like a little girl.

I jumped out of the car without a word to Gage and ran headlong into my father’s open arms. His familiar scent filled my nostrils and he hugged me tightly.

"I missed you, baby girl."

"I missed you," I agreed. Behind us the car door shut lightly and I pulled from my father’s arms to see Gage walking around the car slowly. He was letting us have our moment before he spoke, and I was thankful for that.

"Daddy," I said as I pulled away and waved at Gage to come over. "This is Gage Taylor. Gage, this is my father."

"Bradford Guthry," my father interrupted, grasping Gage's outstretched hand.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Guthry."

"Oh, call me Brad, please. ‘Bradford’ is for when Savannah's mother is around." He laughed.

"Yes sir. Thank you for inviting me into your home. Savannah was just telling me about its historical background. I can't wait to hear more."

"Bradford. Why didn't you tell me she was here?" my mother sing-songed as her heels clicked the cobblestones on the path that led to the street. "Darling."

"Hi momma." She gave me a quick hug and kissed my cheek before turning to Gage.

"So
this
is the young man your father told me about. Welcome to Charleston." She held out her hand gracefully and Gage clasped it. For a moment I envisioned him kissing her hand like in a scene from ‘Gone With the Wind’, but instead he just shook it.

"Gage Taylor, Mrs. Guthry. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes and you too, I'm sure. Come inside sweetheart, and get out of this heat. The men can get the bags." She wound her arm through mine and began to pull me inside the house. "So I certainly see the visual appeal. Tell me about your gentleman - did I detect an Australian accent?" she hinted softly; turning her head to get another look.

"Yes, he’s Australian. That's all you're getting right now, though. I want to show him to his room and then take him up to White Point before we have to get ready."

"Really dear, you just got here and you already want to go gallivanting all over town?"

"It's not
gallivanting
, mother." Gage and my father’s voices broke off the rest of my reply, and I gratefully pulled away from my mother to give Gage a tour of the house. In truth, I simply didn't want to deal with my mother right then. At some point I knew she was going to get the whole story on who Gage was and what he did for a living, and I wanted to put off her snarky comments as long as possible.

It was close to six when Gage and I got back to the house after walking the three blocks to White Point Park. My mother was in an absolute
frenzy
, because the cocktail party started at seven o’clock and she was afraid we were going to show up late. I apologized, somewhat falsely, for her worry and told her we could get ready quickly. After making sure everything Gage needed was in the guest house, I retired to my room and quickly freshened up.

The entire time I was in the shower I rehearsed the conversation I wanted to have with Daniel. I tried being sorry as I smoothed my hair into a neat chignon. I tried being mad, but consenting, of the relationship as I curled my lashes and lined my lips. I tried being hurt and vulnerable as I slipped on my dress.

I looked at the clock to see it was five minutes until seven, and was surprised my mother hadn't come up to yell at me yet. But when I walked down the staircase and into the sitting room, I discovered why. Gage was standing there looking like the most beautiful man in the world while my mother chatted away about Charleston society. His hair looked damp, his face freshly shaven, and I smelled his crisp, spicy scent as I crossed the room.

He wore perfectly pressed blue dress slacks with a light blue oxford shirt and checked tie. Slap my face and call me Sally - he was freaking gorgeous all dressed up. His blazer was neatly folded over the chair in front of him, and he looked incredibly relaxed in my mother’s presence. He certainly looked more relaxed than I ever had.

"Well
there
you are," my mother’s high pitched, yet perfectly sweet southern voice called out. "I suppose it will be alright for us to make a late entrance." As I stepped further into the room she added, "Is that lipstick red? Oh honey, you know red isn't your color."

I was used to her nagging and silently rolled my eyes; turning to look at Gage as my father entered the room from the other entrance. Dad stopped as he watched Gage come forward and hold my hands gently, admiring me openly.

"You look beautiful," Gage said softly, and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

"I was thinking the same thing about you when I came up from behind," I murmured, and then felt the heat of embarrassment rise up my chest and neck once I realized what I’d said. "Um, well, I meant when I saw you as I walked into the room."

He winked at me and squeezed my hands before reluctantly letting them go.

"Anyone going to compliment me?" teased my father from the doorway.

"You're handsome as always, daddy. Momma, you look very lovely. Aunt Charlene will be jealous.” A smug smile crossed my mother’s face at that.

"Why don't you two take your car, Savannah, in case you want to duck out early or do anything after the reception, so we aren't stuck without a ride. Your keys are where they always are."

"Bradford, I thought we would be riding together," pouted my mother prettily.

"Thanks. We’ll see you there, then."

I didn't wait to hear a reply. I grabbed Gage's hand, picked up his blazer and fled the room as quickly as I could, thankful for the reprieve my father was offering us.

We walked around to the back of the property where the garage was located, next to the guest house.

"As you've probably noticed, most of these homes don't have garages, but when my parents did the remodel they built one on to the guest house."

"So - I'm confused. I thought we’d
already
been driving your car?"

"Oh, we have. Um, my dad is something of a car lover, and he used to take me to classic car shows growing up, so I kinda followed suit with a love for classic cars. He bought me this for my sixteenth birthday, but I didn't want to bring it to school and get looks, you know?"

I threw open the carriage doors and the sensor lights flicked on. Sitting there was my beautiful alabaster white Mercedes Benz. It sparkled like the day it was delivered to me.

"Nice. It looks brand new. How many miles?" he asked as he walked around the pretty little convertible.

"I don't know for sure, but less than fifty-thousand. I didn't really drive it that much. You cool with driving a stick?"

Gage gave me an incredulous look as he walked to my side. I dangled the keys out to him. He wrapped my hand, keys and all, in his and invaded my personal space with his body.

"I'm a guy, aren't I? Are you sure you trust me to drive your most prized possession, though?"

I'm trusting you with a lot of things more important than that car right now. Like my family, my body and my heart.
I thought the words, but didn't say them. Instead I plastered on a smile and tipped my head up; kissing his chin.

Thursday - June 13, 2013

Cocktails

We arrived at the country club to find the cocktail party being held in the same ballroom as my graduation party three years earlier. The room looked beautiful, all decked out in virginal whites and crystal. I’d expected something a little flashier from Mary Anne and Aunt Charlene, and was duly impressed.

My palms were slick with sweat when we walked into the room and saw all of the guests. Family, old high school friends, members of the club - all people I hadn't seen in at least two years. It didn’t upset me to realize how out of place I was, like I didn't belong with this group anymore.

Gage endured the unending introductions to family and acquaintances with a smooth charm I’d never seen him demonstrate before. Where I felt awkward back in this social scene, he looked and sounded like
he
was the one who'd grown up in it.

"There she is," boomed my Uncle Grant when I finally made it to his side. "How’s my favorite niece?"

"Your
only
niece," I teased; kissing his cheek and hugging him. My Aunt Charlene was next to him and we shared a quick hug as well.

"It's been far too long, Savannah. You barely even reply to emails anymore. We've missed you at the showers," Charlene's voice whined as she spoke. It was her typical voice, especially when she was unhappy. Mary Anne inherited the same voice, and it never failed to grate on my nerves.

"Momma, Savannah is a busy student. Leave her alone," interrupted the bride-to-be as she gave me a stiff embrace. "It's about time you came home, Vannah."

Vannah
was the childhood nickname she always used for me, and it was touching that she would revert back to it now. I reminded myself that the past needed to be in the past as I hugged her back and plastered on a smile for them. I quickly stepped back and introduced them to Gage. Charlene and Mary Anne did what any red blooded woman would do…they stared.

Uncle Grant's eyes actually widened at Gage's accent when Gage spoke to them. "You’re from Australia? Gage Taylor, you said?"

I caught a slight frown cross Gage's features before he put on a smile and answered, "Yes sir, I am."

Whatever my Uncle meant to say next was drowned out by my father hurrying up to us and slapping him on the back.

"Grant, I see you found my daughter. I've been looking for her," he cried out, and I wondered how much he'd had to drink already. "Mary Anne, you look lovely tonight. Charlene," he crowed amiably; placing kisses on their cheeks. "I need to steal these two away from you. There are people here who want to meet you."

"By all means. We have people to greet anyway, and I simply
must
find where Daniel snuck off to. Have you seen him yet, Vannah?"