Plus None 2 (9 page)

“How’s that?” My breath is quick and shaky, making my chest heave beneath his stare.

Spencer’s emerald eyes are unnerving. “You’ve got more fight in you than she does.”

 “Please, Paige is as strong as they come.” It’s my turn for a wry smile. “She never backs down from anything.”

“True.” He steps nearer. “But has she ever had to fight for what she wants? I mean really fight? Seems to me like she’s the kind of person who lets the people around her do all the heavy lifting.” He breathes me in. “You, on the other hand, you’ve had to fight for everything you have. Haven’t you, Charlie?” He whispers my name softly, intimately.

I hold his gaze, uncomfortable but conscious of the truth in his words. He’s smug. He knows he’s unsettled me. But as he said, I’m not one to back down easily. “You want to see me fight, Spencer? Come one step closer. I grew up with seven male cousins. I’ve practically got a gold medal in ball busting.”

Spencer pulls his bottom lip between two rows of perfect teeth and returns my threat with a smile. “Sounds tempting.”

A cackle from behind us makes me jump. He smirks, knowing he’s won this round. His eyes flit over my shoulder and he steps back. “Remember you still owe me that dance.”

Paige sidles up as Spencer retreats. “Spencer, huh? Last time you two met I believe you referred to him as,
“That talking penis driving the Porsche.
I didn’t think you’d be interested in him.
”

“I’m not. He’s just making sure I made my douche-bag quota for the day.”

She grabs my arm and pulls me forward, walking briskly down the hallway. “Never mind that now. I need your help. One of the servers just walked out.”

“What? Why?”

“Cousin Willy. He’s been following her around all afternoon and mistook her work ethic as a declaration of her undying love. When he tried to kiss her she hit him in the face with a serving tray.”

“Oh my goodness. Where’s he at now?”

“Nursing a broken heart and a broken nose in the driveway.” Paige stops abruptly, forcing me to halt. “I’m so lucky, Charlie.” She turns earnest blue eyes on me. “He wants to marry me. Even after seeing where we grew up and meeting our crazy family, he still wants to marry me.”

I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze. “You’re wrong, baby girl.
He’s
the lucky one, and he knows it. You don’t need to be ashamed of where you come from.”

“But aren’t you? Even just a little? I mean, my God, Barry’s out in the garden right now strumming air guitar to soft jazz. Doesn’t that warrant
some
embarrassment on our part?”

Ever since Paige was a little girl she’s used our family’s unique brand of crazy as a starting block from which to run. It’s a point we’ll never agree on. They drive me to fits of homicidal rage at times, but they’re my family. I wouldn’t be without them for the world. “Paige, there’s no point in feeling bad about where you come from. Rich people always have a few cuckoo birds sittin’ in their family tree, too. Ken’s probably just waiting until you’re legally obligated to stick around before telling you about them.”

Paige releases a long breath. Her mouth wobbles slightly as she suppresses a grin. “He’s got a great aunt that likes to lick silverware.”

“Ewe!” I crinkle my nose.

“Ken’s mom had to stand guard when she went through the buffet line, ‘cause she was eyeing the serving utensils.” She laughs and embraces me. 

“See? There’s a crazy bitch in every family. But remind me to tell you about Cousin Wade later on. I think those two may be meant for one another.”

When she releases me, I’m filled with a deep fondness for my little sister. She’s all grown up, getting married. When did she pass me by? “Alright,” I say, placing my hands on her shoulders. “What do you need me to do?”

The waitress who assaulted our cousin had been pulling double duty as a bar back. Drinks upstairs are getting low and Paige asks if I can go down to the wine cellar and bring up a couple of small crates to restock things. After pointing out the oak door in a sunken alcove off the kitchen, she leaves in search of Ken and I head below in search of booze and beer.

When she said wine cellar, I imagined somewhere dark and dank with a lot of unnecessary metal chains hanging from the ceiling. I’m relieved to see it’s well lit and tidy. Floor to ceiling mahogany shelves line the side and back walls of the room. There’s a large round table in the center. Wine and bottle openers lay haphazardly across its surface and a big glass bowl, half-full of used corks, sits off to the side. An array of light and dark colored bottles sit neatly in their places on the shelves. I see the wooden crates stacked by size along the wall behind me. I choose one and begin pulling down bottles, checking the type and date of each. Paige told me to pull an assortment of everything, but nothing older than 2002.

I hear footsteps on the cellar stairs and pause in my selection of bourbon. Alex steps into the room, ducking under the low stone archway. He looks large and unhappy as he stops a few feet from me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

My heart hammers against my chest. I turn away from him and pull an amber-colored bottle from the shelf. “I haven’t been hiding.”

“No?”

“Nope. In fact, I was standing right alongside your little party in the foyer earlier. I would’ve said hello but you and Cadence looked busy doing Best Man and Maid of Honor things.” I try to make the words sound unemotional, but they come out sarcastic and scathing.

“We’ve been over this. I don’t want Cadence. I want you.”

The bottle in my hand is old and dusty but I’m pretty sure it’s still capable of being used as a blunt instrument if need be. “You might mention that to her. I’m pretty sure she’s fixed on y’all having a double wedding with Paige and Ken.”

Alex exhales loudly and steps closer. “Why’d you walk away from me?”

I grip the bottle firmly and turn to face him. “Are you serious? After that little show you put me through with your father?”

“What’re you talking about? What show?”

“Oh please, Alex. You were so hell bent on making some stupid point with him, you all but forgot I was there.”

“Of course, I didn’t forget you were there. I was trying to protect you--”

“From what? Common courtesy? Mundane questions about who I am and where I’m from? Those were pretty standard new acquaintance questions, Alex. But you weren’t interested in introducing me to him at all, were you? You were looking to pick a fight with your dad and used me as a weapon against him.” I bend, shoving the bottle roughly into the crate.

Alex wipes a hand across his face. “I would never use you. I just know how he can be and I didn’t want…” His voice trails off.

A sickening feeling takes hold of me as I straighten up. “Didn’t want him thinking I was some poor girl from the trailer park? A college dropout with one little bakery and no concrete plans for the future?”

He looks blankly back at me.

I shrug my shoulders. “I’m okay with the decisions I’ve made. It may not be good enough for some but I’m a pretty simple girl. You grow up poor, you figure out how to be content with what you have. I’m used to people looking at me the way Cadence does, the way your father did. It’s happened my whole life. I just didn’t think you saw me that way, too.”

He moves closer and runs his hand up my arm before stopping at the side of my neck. His fingers spread through my hair and I have to close my eyes at the intimacy of his touch. It hurts.

“That’s not how I see you.”

“Isn’t it?” Hot tears well up behind my closed eyes. I open them and blink rapidly a few times to hold them back. “Be honest. You like me fine when we’re in bed, but when it’s time to introduce me to your friends and family, you feel like you’ve got to defend me. Growing up poor isn’t an insult, whatever the people up there might think,” I gesture to the ceiling. “I don’t apologize for it and I certainly don’t need you to do it on my behalf.”

He shakes his head and uses the hand on my neck to draw me closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or make you feel…less. What happened out there wasn’t about you.”

“I know. That was about
you.
You’re a great guy, Alex, but how--” I place my hand over his heart. “--is this supposed to work if we can’t be open with the people in our lives about who we--” I almost say love, but stop myself. “--about who we care about?” A tear escapes.

He lifts my chin. His eyes are so dark. I’ve spent several nights over the last two weeks studying their depths and the emotion behind them. Right now, they’re filled with intense resolve.

“I’m sorry. I want to tell all of them; I will.”

He wipes away the tear, spreading the wetness across my cheek then uses the hand at my neck to draw my face upward, toward his gentle lips.

 I hesitate at first but when he fists his hand in my hair and drags his other down my back, pulling me to him, my resolve weakens. It always does where he’s concerned.

 I return the kiss with equal passion, allowing his tongue to penetrate my mouth. His body is hard and unforgiving as he backs me into the shelf against the wall. Bottles rattle and clang dangerously.  One digs into my spine and I arch away from it. Alex moves his hand over the spot, protecting me from further injury, but doesn’t let up on his assault. He tastes like scotch and cigars and I secure my mouth to his, reveling in the flavor.

A bottle crashes the floor, the glass breaking into a million pieces. The noise jars me out of the fog I feel when he kisses me. I shove him off, throwing my hands forward when he tries to reclaim my lips.

“Stop. Please.”

He runs a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so naïve?”

“You’ve just got to give me a chance to--”

“To what? To decide if being with me is feasible? What am I missing here, Alex? Why do I feel like you’ve got one foot out the door?”

He doesn’t answer.

The clack of heels on the stairs doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been on this errand far too long and I knew the sound of a bottle breaking and our shouts might draw someone’s attention. But it isn’t Paige.

Cadence’s eyes run over the scene. I can’t imagine what I look like after a wine shelf make-out session but Alex’s hair is a good indication that we’ve been up to no good. Her eyes rest on the shattered bottle and she winces.

“Paige sent me.” Her voice breaks slightly.  “She was worried you may’ve gotten lost down here, Charlotte.”

Alex pockets his hands and turns away from her.

“But I see you’re just fine.” Her tone is carefully measured but there’s no hiding the pain behind her eyes.

Right now anything out of my mouth will either be the truth or a lie. I can’t stand to voice either. I’m exhausted and long to run up the stairs and out of this goddamn house.

“Alex?” She waits, motionless, for him to look at her. But he doesn’t.

The tension between them delivers a punch to my gut. Alex keeps passing off their connection as nothing more than an old friendship, but that’s not the way friends look at one another. 

“Alex?” I ask.

His eyes are so sad, I feel like it’s my heart lying on the floor in pieces. “I’m sorry.
I
would’ve chosen you.” His words are soft, spoken like he’s got no choice in the matter.

Cadence clears her throat. I meet her eyes and she straightens and looks down on me. “Go home, Charlotte.”

“This is my sister’s engagement party. I’ve got every right to be here.”

“Say your goodbyes and be on your way. You don’t belong here.”

Alex fixes Cadence with a hard look. “Enough.”

He’s right. I’ve had enough. I walk quickly to the stairs. Cadence’s eyes remain on Alex. I pause as I come to her. She always gets the last word. Not today. “You work so hard to try and prove you’re better than me, but it only matters to you and look at what you have to do to win.”

She nods. “But I still win. That’s the important part.”

I run up the remaining stairs, leaving them both behind.

The house is full of mingling partygoers. I jog down the long, lavishly decorated hallway and out the front door. Once I reach the lawn I break into a run, headed for the winding driveway and my car. I know people are watching me. I don’t care. Let them watch. My family and I were a source of entertainment for them anyway.

A young valet in a red vest and black pants asks for my number. I forgot my purse. Paige stashed it away with her things when I arrived so I wouldn’t have to carry it around. “I haven’t got it, just bring the car. It’s a blue Honda Civic.” I turn my head, worried that any second now Alex will come after me.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but if you don’t have your number…” I walk to the makeshift valet stand and search frantically for my keys. The young man hems and haws about protocol. I spot them and pull them from their ring, ignoring his pleas to stop. Not knowing what to do, the valet runs off calling for assistance. Obviously, he’s not too bright. If I were stealing a car, there’re a lot better options than a ten-year old coup with a smoky muffler.

My car is halfway down the row, parked along the right side of the drive. I unlock the door and hop in. The air is stifling but I lock myself in anyway.  It’s the first time I’ve felt like I could breathe since leaving the wine cellar.

I maneuver the car onto the drive. Three of my cousins are leaning against a shiny black Range Rover. They’re drinking happily from blue and silver beer cans removed from the open cooler at Wendell’s feet. Willy’s face is obscured behind a thick white bandage but it’s not affecting his ability to drink, which is clearly the important thing.

My family’s got one thing over these rich snobs. We don’t need ice sculptures and men strumming acoustic guitars to have a party. We can make one anywhere. 

Wade waves energetically to me, his hand licked-clean of chocolate fondue. I glance nervously in the rearview mirror as the rather persistent and annoying valet runs after me, a pizza-faced colleague not far behind. I point my finger over my shoulder, gesturing to the boys behind me. Wade springs into action, hurling beer cans over the car at my pursuers. The valets pull up and duck as more cans are launched in their direction. I watch in the side-view as Wendell and Willy join in, throwing ice at the boys and laughing heartily.