11. PARIS
PARIS
“I’m sorry,” I tell Vanessa as I walk back to the reception.
“For what? My bad luck?”
“If I hadn’t followed you to the beach, you wouldn’t have twisted your ankle, and we wouldn’t be about to get yelled at for hours.”
“That’s true. And why the hell am I still holding on to this bottle of wine?”
“You didn’t want to litter?” My reply is meant as a joke, but it doesn’t remove the frown lines between her brows. “It won’t be as bad as the first time. We’re adults now.”
She snorts. “Have you met my mother?”
No sooner does she speak than the woman in question arrives at the gate. “Vanessa, minha filha. O que aconteceu? O que este moleque fez?”
I’m completely lost as to what she’s saying, but I don’t miss the death glare she aims my way.
“It’s nothing, Mom. I wasn’t paying attention and twisted my ankle. Paris is just helping me get back to the house.”
“What happened?” Vanessa’s father joins the scene, looking more worried than angry.
I see more people coming down the stairs, and brace for the onslaught of angry Brazilians, talking a mile a minute.
My hope is that my folks aren’t aware of the commotion.
They’d only add fuel to the fire, and we’d have a repeat of the stolen wine scene.
And now I don’t have Cory to help me out.
A sharp pang flares up in my chest, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, not when I have to explain myself to Vanessa’s family.
“Paris thinks I might have sprained my ankle,” Vanessa answers her father.
“What does he know?” her mom sneers. “He’s not a doctor yet, is he?”
“I’ve seen my fair share of injuries, ma’am. But you’re right, I’m not a doctor. We need to take Vanessa to the ER to get her ankle X-rayed.”
“ We? ” Her voice rises to a shriek. “You’ve done enough.”
Damn it. I misspoke, and that wasn’t my intention. I don’t know why I included myself in the trip to the hospital. I have no business going with Vanessa anywhere, even though I wouldn’t mind tagging along to make sure she’s all right.
“Will you quit, Mom? Paris is only helping. Now could you please move out of the way so we can get up the stairs? I’m not exactly a lightweight, you know?”
Her parents and other curious people who came to snoop move out of the way to allow me to pass. I take the steps two at a time, mainly to put distance between us and them fast.
“You weigh nothing by the way,” I tell Vanessa.
“Now you’re just showing off. I’m packed with muscle.”
Her reply makes me chuckle, despite the situation. “Your sass is back. I hope that means your ankle isn’t as painful as before.”
“Nah, I’m finally drunk enough that I can’t feel it as much. With my luck, I’m sure I got hurt terribly and I’ll have to forget the entire soccer season.”
“Stop being so pessimistic. I’m sure it’s not too serious.”
When I reach the landing, there’s a small crowd waiting for us. I spot Heather front and center, sporting a smirk. She takes a sip of her champagne, unfazed that I’m carrying her sister. Jesus, doesn’t she care to know what happened to Vanessa?
“Paris, what in the world?” Mom’s shrill voice catches my attention.
Hell. So much for hoping my folks wouldn’t notice the tumult.
“Your son once again tried to corrupt my daughter.” Vanessa’s mother joins the scene, and I get a flashback of their fight of nine years ago.
“My son did no such thing!” Mother’s eyes bug out.
“Do you think they’ll come to blows this time?” Vanessa whispers.
“Hopefully not.”
Her mother and mine begin their back-and-forth argument.
The mother of the bride joins them and tries in vain to calm them down, which incenses Vanessa’s mother more.
If they weren’t arguing about us, I’d record the confrontation and post it all over the internet.
This is gold. Not one of them is paying attention to us now.
“If I tell you I can sneak us out and take you to the hospital, would you let me?”
“Do you see an opening for a swift escape?” Her eyebrows arch.
I mince to the side until we’re not in the center of the circle, but we still have to get away without anyone noticing.
Heather appears out of nowhere. “Do you plan on carrying my sister for the entire reception, Andino?”
“She can’t walk,” I retort.
“Yes, Heather. I twisted my ankle, thanks for asking.”
“Sure, and neither of you are disliking this arrangement.” She finishes her drink and walks away.
Shit. Am I that transparent ? But more important, why did she add Vanessa to her statement?
“Your sister is a piece of work,” I mutter.
“Ignore her. I do most of the time. If you want to get out of here, it has to be now. Sooner rather than later our parents will notice we’re not watching their shitshow, and they’ll come looking for us. I really don’t want to deal with more yelling today.”
I look over the heads of a few guests trying to stay clear of the argument. I don’t mind having to special-order my shoes because of my size when I can see over any crowd. Being tall definitely has more perks than hindrances, and being able to find an escape route right now is one of them.
“I think I got it.”
I make my move, striding away from the reception area via the path that leads to the side of the house. Soon I see all the white vans parked there, but most important, no guests.
“Did you drive?” she asks.
“Yeah. I don’t attend events with my folks anymore without having a way to fly the coop.”
“Smart. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice about coming with my parents today.”
“It’s okay. I got you.”
Surprisingly, she rests her cheek against my chest, making me feel all kinds of crazy shit.
The scent of vanilla reaches my nose, igniting a little fire in the pit of my stomach.
It’s an aroma that’s embedded in my memory.
She must still use the same brand of shampoo as she did nine years ago.
My heartbeat accelerates to a hundred, and the desire to hug her tighter is almost overwhelming.
It seems all the emotions I suppressed when I was barely a teen are coming back to the surface like a volcanic eruption.
“Thanks, Andino. I almost don’t mind that you’re the reason I need to go to the ER.”
There’s no accusation in her tone. She must be buzzing.
“Hey, now. Your clumsiness is what caused your accident. Don’t go spreading rumors.” I stop next to the passenger side of my truck. “Can you stand for a second? I need to open the door for you.”
“Yep.”
I let her slide out of my arms. She braces a hand against the truck, standing on one foot. That’s when I notice she isn’t wearing her sandals.
“Shit, we forgot your shoes,” I say.
She drops her gaze to the ground. “You too, buddy.”
I look down as well, and then shrug. “It’s okay. I can get them later. Besides, I have a pair of sneakers in the car.”
“Are you going to open the door for me, or are we waiting to get busted?”
“Oops, sorry.”
When I unlock the door, the car alarm beeps, making me wince a little. It’s paranoia. No way anyone can hear it from the house.
I attempt to help Vanessa slide into the car, but she puts her arm up. “It’s okay, Paris. I got it.”
She sets the almost empty bottle of wine in front of her seat and turns, facing me. Then she braces her hands against the doorframe, bending her knee in preparation for a little jump. Yeah, not gonna happen.
“Nope.” I wrap my hands around her tiny waist and lift her onto the seat without effort. “There.”
She watches me through narrowed eyes. “I could have gotten in without your help.”
“I’m sure you could, and it’d probably have been pretty entertaining to watch, but we’re trying to get out of here in a hurry, remember?”
I can see her mind working to come up with a clever retort, but in the end, she simply swings her legs into the car and shuts the door.
I run around the front and, when I get behind the steering wheel, she’s sporting a frown and her arms are crossed.
Man, I wish I had the ability to read her thoughts.
I could ask, and I plan to, but first, I need to get us out of here.
It’s not prudent to drive without shoes on, so I twist my body to reach behind my seat. I know I threw a pair of sneakers somewhere in the back.
“What are you doing? I thought you were in a hurry to leave.”
My fingers brush against one shoe. I snatch it and show it to her. “Looking for the other one.”
“Ew, gross. Get that away from me.” She pushes my arm back.
Ignoring her, I resume my search, but my movements are constricted thanks to the suit jacket. I dive farther between our seats and finally get a visual of the missing shoe. Stretching my arm to the max, I manage to grab it, but the noise of tearing fabric follows.
“You just ripped your jacket,” Vanessa tells me.
“Noticed it.” I return to my seat and, grumpily, put the shoes on, wincing that I didn’t have the foresight to wipe off the sand first.
“You don’t need to bite my head off.”
“I didn’t. You’d know if I did.”
Annoyed, I put the car in Drive and head out of the parking area slowly to avoid making more noise than needed.
She snorts. “I think I can tell when you’re being a jerk. Been there, done that.”
My cheeks hollow as I work my jaw. A retort is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t fault her for that jab.
“Are you going to be mad at me the entire trip to the hospital?” I ask instead.
“Yes.”
“I just wanted to help.”
“I know. It’s your knight-in-shining-armor complex at work.”
I hold the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t have a knight-in-shining-armor complex. But if I see a friend struggling, of course I’m going to help.”
“So we’re friends now?” I feel her stare on my face.
Curious, I peel my gaze off the road for a second to look at her. The distrust shining in her eyes kills me.
“For my part,” I reply, wondering if she’ll get the reference.
She blinks fast, and then faces the road. “Nice one, Frodo.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, making me forget my ripped jacket and the family feud we probably reignited today.