Orlando
At home that night, I replayed the events of the previous few hours in my head. When Linaya called me, I had thought something awful had happened to Amaya. While I felt a little silly pulling up to the dark VFW building, I figured I could catch up on my reading while I sat in the quiet. The text from Amaya simply saying to come launched me into action.
I knew she wouldn’t have sent that without reason, but I was not ready for the sight before me when I came into the room. Dozens of people ignoring the girl trying desperately to get away from a man in a cheap suit. Then she had screamed and everything stopped. The people, the music, and my heart all stilled. Her words sliced through the air and right into my heart.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was in front of the sleazeball, decking him. I didn’t care if I was hit back or arrested, nobody touched a woman—let alone Amaya—like that and got away with it. I think the bride’s words to her afterward were just want she needed to hear. Sleazy men were sleazy men. And hopefully Kyle would take a hint from now on. I hoped I had broken his jaw. He deserved it.
My hand would recover, though it had been a while since I punched someone. Maybe I needed to take up boxing, it felt good. Maybe we needed to hold self-defense classes in the ballroom once a month for women in the community. I pulled out my phone and made a note to mention it to both Amaya and my mom. They would like the idea.
After the couple cut the cake, Amaya and I had danced to a slow song that came from speakers in the corners. There wasn’t a proper DJ or anything, and Amaya said they had created a playlist that played on a three-hour loop. She had helped create the mix of songs.
When her time was up, I walked her outside, making sure no crazy exes were in sight. “You sure you’re okay to get home?”
She nodded, leaning into me. “Yeah. He doesn’t know where I live now and I doubt he’d bother to find out after that.”
I kissed her forehead. “So you don’t need a knight in shining armor to check your place over?”
I got a raised eyebrow in response. “I appreciate it, Orlando, but that’s dangerous territory on its own. Besides, I think Linny will be at my place and will stay with me tonight to keep me safe. We princesses can handle ourselves.”
“Duly noted. I have no doubt you can save yourself, but I do enjoy coming to the rescue every so often.” I tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Amaya.”
Popping up on her tiptoes, she kissed me lightly. “Goodnight. And thank you. Truly.”
So I came home, put on my joggers and a t-shirt, and wrapped my hand. I fell onto the couch and scrolled through social media, finally landing on Amaya’s page. There were gorgeous photos of her in a variety of bridesmaid dresses. Most of the photos were not actually of her, but of brides and grooms—Amaya standing off to the side as a bridesmaid. An accessory to the event. In every photo, she was always a bridesmaid.
When my phone buzzed in my hand I startled and dropped it under the couch. “Hang on, hang on,” I muttered as I reached for it. I yanked it up and answered in one motion. “Hello?”
“Orlando?”
It was Amaya. No. No, this was a feminine voice but was not Amaya. Why did I know this voice?
“Hello? Orlando?”
Tori. It was my ex-girlfriend. I gaped a moment before I stuttered her name. “T-Tori? Is that you?”
A sigh of relief came through the phone. “Yes, it’s me. How are you?”
I could picture her sitting primly on a leather chair, her blonde hair perfectly tucked back, clothing immaculate. On paper, Tori was a perfect match for me. In reality, it was doomed from the start. We were similar, too similar. Both too goal-oriented to allow the other to shine. And those goals had led us to two different coasts.
“I’m good. Back in Savannah. How’s Oregon?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why was she calling me?
“I miss the sunshine, but not the humidity, of Georgia,” she replied with an awkward laugh.
My phone buzzed again. I looked at the screen, Amaya’s face popped up. It would be too rude to hang up on Tori, I would have to call Amaya back. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh.” It was as if she didn’t have a reason for calling. “Right. I heard you’re looking to sell The Promenade. I thought maybe you had reconsidered coming west.”
Inwardly, I groaned. This was not happening. “I have entertained offers if anyone is interested, but I don’t think I’m actively looking to sell anymore. And I have no intention of going west, Tori.”
Never one to admit defeat, I could picture Tori squaring her shoulders and picking her chin up. “I suppose I misunderstood then. I did send a client of mine, Mr. James Worthy, the info on The Promenade and he was quite interested. But I can tell him I was misinformed.”
“The James Worthy? That’s a big name client.” Color me impressed. Tori had moved up in the world.
“Well, I apologize for calling so late. I forgot it’s three hours ahead there.” An uneasy silence filled the air. “I hope you’re well, Orlando.”
“I am well. And happy. I hope you are, too.” I meant it. We hadn’t parted on bad terms, we just weren’t right for each other.
“Yes, well. Goodbye then,” she said, her voice soft and low. The phone clicked and she was gone.
I stared at nothing for a moment. “That was strange,” I muttered into the air. Had she been calling solely about her client being interested? Maybe she was trying to brag about having one of the leading real estate tycoons as a client. But then I wondered if she missed me and truly wanted me to come out to Oregon.
The thought lingered in my mind for a moment. Would I be happy in Oregon? Likely not. I preferred the slower pace of Georgia, I had discovered. And, I realized, Tori was not the love of my life. There was no way I would pack up and move to be with her. I wasn’t sure I would do that with Amaya, either, but we were new. I did, however, know I wanted to see where this thing with her was going. It felt like it could go the distance.
Remembering that she had called, I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hey,” she said. I hadn’t noticed that she had an accent before, but after talking to Tori, I picked up a hint of a smooth southern lilt to her voice.
“Hey.” The smile that came across my face could not be helped. “Sorry I missed you a minute ago, I had a business call.”
“So late on a Saturday?” A yawn came through the phone.
“Sometimes business knows no hours.” That was the truth.
And she agreed. “I know it. I’m glad this was an earlier wedding and not one I’d be at until midnight.” She paused, but it held none of the ill ease the one with Tori had held. “Anyway, I wanted to call and thank you again.”
I scratched the stubble on my chin. “Oh, I think you could have figured it out. But I’m glad to help. He was a…”
“Yeah, he is,” she interrupted. “And I’m glad I didn’t have to figure it out. I’ve never had that happen at a wedding before and I just froze. I didn’t know what to do. If I had been at the beach or something I would have kicked him right where it counts. But I couldn’t do that to my reputation as a businesswoman.”
“Maybe we need security at The Promenade.”
She yawned again and I had the sudden urge to tuck her into bed and watch her sleep.
“No, I’ve done dozens, hundreds, of weddings and this was a first. Usually the worst thing is a handsy groomsman.”
“I had a thought. What if we offered free self-defense classes once a month for women in the area?”
The sleepy tone she had perked up a little. “Really? That’s a wonderful idea. I think Linny has taken classes, I can ask who did them.”
“Let’s talk about it on Monday,” I suggested.
“Perfect. Write it down.”
“Already did.”
“Thanks again, Orlando. Truly. That meant the world to me.”
I could hear her words getting slower as sleep began to claim her. “Anytime, hon.”
She giggled. “Hon. That’s cute. Goodnight.”
We hung up and I grinned. I had felt exhausted, but after the call from Tori and talking to Amaya, my mind was racing. I looked up James Worthy, but low and behold, I had an email from him in waiting for me. It said he had spoken with Tori about acquiring a property on the east coast and she suggested mine. It would seem he already had the numbers in hand. It must be nice having more money than anybody else.
I wasn’t too sure what to respond, so I closed the email for now. It could wait until Monday. The old me wouldn’t have put off business because it was the weekend, but this new, slower-paced me certainly would.