Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Sunny
I’m buzzing.
No, seriously, there’s an actual jitter in my stomach as I stand in the lobby of the hotel, glancing at the clock every few seconds. Marjorie is about to arrive, and even though I know she’s always late, I can’t help it.
I’m just so ready for her to get here.
Tinsel winds between my ankles, brushing against my legs like a tiny, warm anchor. I kneel for a second to scratch behind her ears, letting the soft purr under my hand calm the jitter in my stomach.
It’s ridiculous how much Marjorie’s energy makes all of this, everything, feel lighter. The second she steps through that door, I know everything’s going to shift.
Her chaotic, optimistic, and borderline-manic vibe is precisely what I need. I’ve been drowning in spreadsheets, contracts, and hotel problems for days, and frankly, I’m this close to pulling out my hair.
I pace in the lobby, imagining what ridiculous outfit she’s wearing this time. Last week on FaceTime, she wore a neon pink scarf with a fur-lined hood that made her look like she belonged in a circus.
The door swings open, and there she is.
She bursts in, hair a little wild, carrying a giant duffel bag that looks like it’s been through an emotional rollercoaster. The moment her eyes land on me, her lips curl into that vast, grin-inducing smile of hers, and it’s like someone flipped a switch inside me.
All the tension I’ve been carrying for the past week starts to fade away.
“Sunny! I made it.” Marjorie announces loudly as she flings her arms wide in a dramatic show. “Thank goodness. That was one hell of a journey. But totes worth it to see my BFF.”
She tosses her bag onto the nearby couch with an exaggerated flourish, as if she’s just saved the day.
“You’re late,” I tease, though I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. “I was about to call for a search party.”
She drops onto one of the chairs in the lobby, wiping her brow dramatically.
“What can I say? Traffic’s a nightmare. The Uber from the airport took forever.
And then I almost got distracted by a donut shop on the way here.
But don’t worry, I stayed strong. I only got one for myself and none for you. ”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “You’re the worst. I can’t believe you didn’t bring me a donut. After you promised me and everything.”
Marjorie just shrugs, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’m kidding. I have one in your bag. But I also have something way more valuable.”
I raise an eyebrow, but before I can ask what she means, she stands up with a flourish, as if announcing her entrance to a Broadway show.
“Ready to save your life?” she asks, bouncing on her feet. “It’s me, of course.”
I let out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t even know what you have in mind, but I’m ready for anything at this point.”
“Perfect!” she says, as if she’s just been handed the keys to an entire kingdom. “Gala prep starts now.”
I can feel it already, that familiar rush of excitement that only comes when I’m with her. Marjorie has this magical ability to make everything an adventure.
No problem too big, no task too overwhelming. We dive in, no hesitation, no second-guessing.
“Alright,” she continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “what do you need help with first? Flowers? Decorations? Psychic intervention for Ryder’s ridiculous spreadsheets?”
I can’t help but laugh at that last suggestion. “Ryder might need a psychic to read between the numbers for him,” I mutter under my breath, though I’m only half-joking.
“Well, obviously I have to meet him while I’m here…”
“Obviously,” I reply, dripping with mock seriousness. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to meet the man who’s basically living inside Excel right now?”
Marjorie grins, eyes lighting up at the idea. “I need to see the legend for myself. Let’s hope he doesn’t look like one of those grumpy corporate guys who lives on black coffee and spreadsheets.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Trust me, that’s basically his vibe. But be warned, you might like him. He has this… weird, brooding charm, and he’s kind of a sucker for a good cause.”
Marjorie raises an eyebrow, like she’s already sizing him up in her mind. “Mmm, I like a good challenge. Let me see if I can crack that icy exterior like you have…”
Before I can respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the hallway. I turn to see Ryder walking toward us, a clipboard in his hand, looking the same as he always does—seriously put together.
But there’s something about the way he moves, like everything around him is just a bit more… controlled. His eyes flick toward me, then shift to Marjorie, and there’s that moment of hesitation.
She doesn’t miss a beat, standing up and extending her hand with her usual dramatic flair. “Ryder, I presume? I’m Marjorie. The chaotic, loud friend who’s about to make your life so much better.”
I can practically hear Ryder’s brain trying to process her in real time. He pauses for a second, sizing her up, before his lips curl into the smallest, most reluctant smile. “I… yes. That would be me.”
Marjorie leans forward slightly, her smile mischievous. “I gotta say, you look way more… human than I was expecting. No offense, but spreadsheets and the title of ‘CFO’ didn’t really scream ‘charming.’”
I nearly choke on my breath, both from laughing and from seeing Ryder’s unamused expression soften just a bit. He might be a master of the poker face, but I see the flicker of laughter in his eyes.
“Well, glad to surprise you,” he replies, a little smoother than usual. “It’s good to have you here.”
I watch them for a moment, pleased by the dynamic unfolding between them. Ryder’s no longer as hard-edged as he usually is when dealing with me. Something about Marjorie’s energy seems to loosen him up, even if just a little.
Marjorie, never one to miss an opportunity to poke fun at the seriousness in the room, gives Ryder a wink.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not a robot.” She turns to me with an exaggerated whisper. “I was starting to think you were really into spreadsheets, Sunny.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m grateful for the lightheartedness Marjorie brings. Ryder’s smile grows faintly, something small yet undeniably real, even if he’s trying to play it cool.
“So,” Marjorie continues, as Ryder heads back to work, “what’s the plan, boss?” She winks at me, her eyes already scanning the room, mentally drafting a blueprint for the gala. “Gotta have it all… the flowers, the lights, the vibes. Let’s get to gala prep.”
I laugh, feeling a weight lift off me already.
“Well, we’ve got the main ballroom for the event, but we need to finalize the decorations and guest list before the first round of vendors arrives. The flowers, too… Marjorie, you’re on that.”
“Say less,” she replies with a snap of her fingers. “I’ve got this.”
I head toward the kitchen, my mind already calculating the logistics of the gala and making sure we’re on track: the catering, the staff schedule, everything.
I take a deep breath, trying to cool myself down. This is fine, I tell myself. I’ve handled worse.
But the more I try to focus, the more I feel… off. And the more I try to ignore it, the worse I feel.
I really don’t want to, especially with my best friend here, but it’s hard.
I make my way back into the main lobby, trying to push through it. Just keep working. You don’t have time to feel sick.
Marjorie’s already fluttering around, throwing herself into the details. The woman has more energy than five people combined.
“Sunny,” she calls from across the room. “What do you think of this? Too much greenery for the centerpieces? I’m thinking of making it look like a Christmas forest exploded in here.”
I laugh softly, but the dizziness is getting worse. I clutch the counter to steady myself as the room shifts slightly. I blink hard, trying to shake it off, a wave of nausea rising in my stomach.
Okay, maybe I should sit down for a second…
I take a few wobbly steps toward one of the chairs in the corner, but before I can sit down, the dizziness intensifies.
The room is spinning, my vision blurring at the edges like I’m underwater, and I suddenly can’t seem to catch my breath. It’s like the floor is sliding out from under me.
No, no, no, I think, but the panic is already setting in, and I can’t stop it.
I try to keep upright, but my legs are jelly. Before I know it, everything goes dark.
I wake to the sound of someone calling my name.
The world feels heavy. It’s pressing down on me, and for a second, I don’t know where I am or what’s happening. My body feels like it's in slow motion, and everything is happening through a thick fog.
I blink a few times, trying to focus, but the edges of my vision are still blurry. My head is spinning, and I can’t seem to get my bearings.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I try to take a deep breath, but it comes out too shallow.
I try to move, but my body is so heavy. My arms are lead, and my legs won’t cooperate. I can’t even feel them properly.
Marjorie? My mind claws for something familiar.
Then I feel her hand in mine, a gentle pressure. My heart skips.
“Sunny?” she whispers, trembling. “Are you okay?”
I try to speak, but my throat feels dry, and when I try to open my mouth, nothing comes out.
Finally, I manage a faint rasp, barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t feel so good…”
I’m not sure if I’m saying the words out loud or if it’s just my mind trying to make sense of the confusion. My eyelids feel so heavy, like they’re made of stone. I fight to keep them open.
“No, no,” Marjorie says urgently, pushing me back gently, her hand on my shoulder. “Stay with me, alright? You need to stay awake.”
It takes every ounce of effort to keep my eyes from fluttering shut again. The dizziness hasn’t let up; if anything, it’s gotten worse.
I feel her fingers squeeze mine, a lifeline in this spinning world. “You’re fine,” she insists, but I can hear the strain in her voice. “You’re okay.”
I want to believe her, I do, but everything inside me feels wrong. I’m falling, slipping away.
I try again to push myself up, but my body betrays me, and I just slump back down.
“Stay still, Sunny,” Marjorie says, tight with worry. “Please. I’m not going to let you go until you’re alright.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out as more of a cough. I manage to focus on her for a moment, even as my vision swims.
“Too much,” I mutter. “The hotel, the gala… everything. It’s just too much.”
I try to shake off the feeling, the weight pressing down on my chest, but it’s hard. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. I can’t breathe.
My body is failing me, but I can’t seem to find the words.
Marjorie presses her hand gently to my forehead, her touch cool against my feverish skin. “You’re not okay, Sunny. And I need to get you checked out. We can’t keep ignoring this.”
I want to argue, to tell her I’m fine, but the words are stuck in my throat, and it takes everything in me to stay awake.
“Sunny,” she continues, quieter now. Concern, maybe, or fear. “I want to call a doctor, but there’s something I need to ask first.”
I blink slowly, trying to focus on her face, but her expression is tight, her brows furrowed in thought.
Her voice lowers. “Could you… could you be pregnant?”
The question hits me like a bucket of ice water.
My heart skips a beat, and for a second, everything goes still. My mind starts spinning faster than I can keep up. Pregnant?
I’ve barely been able to process the hotel crisis, the gala, or even the emotions swirling around Ryder and me, but this?
This is something I haven’t even begun to think about.
The memory of my nights with Ryder rushes back how we’ve been swept up in the moment, too caught up in everything to worry about precautions, too many times. We haven’t always used protection.
Shit.
The world seems to tilt, the dizziness growing worse. I try to clear my head, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate.
“I… I don’t know,” I whisper shakily. “I haven’t thought about it. It hasn’t been long enough, right?”
Marjorie’s face softens, and I can see her trying to hold it together, not wanting to overwhelm me. “I just… I need to know if that’s a possibility. Because if you’re pregnant—”
“I’m not sure,” I cut her off, the panic rising in my chest. My breathing comes in shallow gasps again, and the room starts to spin once more. “But I don’t want a doctor here. I just want to lie down.”
Marjorie’s hand tightens around mine, her grip firm but shaking. I can hear the edge in her words now, that quiet desperation she tries so hard to hide.
“Sunny, you can’t just ignore this. We don’t know what’s going on, and—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I’m not seeing a doctor. I just need to rest. I can’t deal with this right now, okay? Please.”
She stares at me for a long moment, her lips pressed together, like she’s trying to hold it all in. I can see the conflict on her face.
She wants to respect me, but she’s also terrified. And I don’t know how to explain that I feel the same way.
“This isn’t something you can just sleep off. Something’s wrong, and you’re not—”
“I’m fine,” I force out, even though the words are a lie in my mouth. “I just need some time. I can’t deal with anything right now.”
I try to sit up again, my legs jelly beneath me. But before I can fully make it, I collapse back into the couch, the dizziness making the room tilt violently around me.
“Please,” I whisper as I close my eyes. “Just let me breathe.”
Marjorie crouches down beside me, her hand on my shoulder now, fingers pressing into my skin with an urgency I can’t ignore.
“Okay, fine. But I’m keeping an eye on you, alright? If I think for a second that something is about to happen, then I’ll call someone.”
I purse my lips together and nod.
That won’t happen. I’ll make sure of it.