Chapter 24
When Nick woke up the morning after the wedding, he allowed himself a brief, delusional moment of hope that when he rolled over, he’d find Carly asleep beside him. It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. After a few seconds, he turned over under the sheet and saw exactly what he’d known he would find: an empty, Carly-less bed.
He laid on his back and let out a deep sigh, letting his memories of the night before wash over him. After Carly had vanished from the house, he’d gone outside and grabbed Alice and Davo as discreetly as he could. Alice had been horrified by the damage Carly’s purse had done to her brother’s magnificent cake creation. Davo said nothing, which was standard for him.
“Davo, how much have you had to drink? Can you drive?” Alice had asked in a decisive tone, once she’d recovered herself.
“Uh, yeah, but—”
“Good. Get your keys, and go up the street to the bakery. Buy the biggest pavlova they have. Bring it back here, carefully, and we’ll put it on top of the bottom layer. We can clean the cake topper off and put it back on top.”
“I don’t know if that’ll work,” he replied, looking at the messy remnants of the cake.
“It’s either that or get them both so drunk they don’t notice their wedding cake looks like a car crash,” she said. “Go. Nick and I will stall the speeches and the cake cutting until you get back.”
Davo gave her a skeptical shrug, but he dug his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door.
Once he was gone, Alice turned to Nick. “What the hell happened?”
“Carly and I were arguing, and she threw her purse.”
“At you?”
“No, although she probably wanted to,” he muttered.
“Do I want to know what got her mad enough to throw her purse at her best friend’s wedding cake?” Alice raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“It wasn’t like that,” he said defensively. “It was an accident. She didn’t really throw it, it just … flew out of her hand.”
“Where is she?”
Nick’s stomach churned miserably. “She left. A few minutes ago. She was pretty upset.”
“When is she coming back? According to Heather’s run sheet she’s supposed to be giving a toast in—” Alice checked the time on the microwave “—three minutes ago.”
Nick stared at his feet, and at the chunks of cake and white icing all over the kitchen floor. “I don’t know.”
He could feel Alice staring at him in disbelief. No doubt she blamed him for Carly’s disappearance, and she wasn’t wrong.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said in a firm, quiet voice. “You’re going to clean this up. I’m going to go tell Heather and Marcus that there’s a problem with the cake and we’re working on it. And I’ll say that Carly’s not feeling well but that she told us all we should carry on without her and she’ll be back soon.”
Nick nodded, and once she left out the back door, he pulled a handful of paper towels off the roll and started picking chunks of cake off the floor and wiping icing off the cabinets. But as he watched from the window as Alice slipped into her seat and leant over to talk to Marcus and Heather, he knew that Carly—who would do just about anything for Heather, even if it meant teaming up with someone she hated and missing her chance at a promotion—wouldn’t be back to give her toast at her best friend’s wedding. And he knew it was all his fault.
Morning light streamed into his hotel room, warm and bright and hopeful. He felt none of those things. Alice and Davo’s cobbled-together pavlova-cake had turned out fine, and Heather and Marcus had seemed so happy to be toasting and eating cake with their loved ones that they’d laughed off the last minute cake swap.
“I guess it was BYO cake after all,” Heather had grinned.
As Marcus and Heather fed each other mouthfuls of store-bought pavlova, Nick had caught Alice’s eye across the table, and they’d both let out a sigh of relief. Alice had saved the day, but Carly never returned to the reception. He’d noticed that as the night went on, Heather looked more and more worried. Shit, he was worried, too, and part of him wanted to go find Carly and make sure she was all right. But he also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him. Still, with every big moment—Leanne’s moving toast about her son, Marcus and Heather’s first dance—he thought, she should be here.
“Text her in the morning,” Nick heard Alice say to Heather, as Heather glanced over her shoulder at the back door yet again. “I’m sure she’ll be fine by then.”
Nick sat up slowly in bed and felt his hamstrings object to the movement. He hadn’t danced much last night, but at one point Izzy had dragged him onto the dance floor and made him whirl her around, and this morning he could feel it in his legs and his lower back. He was definitely out of ballet shape if one dance to Wham! could leave him feeling like this the next day.
He checked his phone. No texts or calls from Carly. But there was an email from Victor Wilkinson waiting in his inbox. Contracts for him to sign, and a note asking him to propose the first three locations where he wanted to shoot, and the dancers he wanted to use as his models.
Anywhere, was his first thought. I’ll go anywhere, and the only dancer I want is Carly.
He was in the middle of typing out a response to Victor when his phone vibrated with a text from Alice, sent to him, Davo, and Carly.
Alice, 9:48 AM: Clean up crew, assemble! Shouldn’t take more than a few hours if we all pitch in. Iz and I will bring coffee and some of Will’s cheesymite scrolls.
Nick, 9:49 AM: Be there in 30.
Transpacific Airlines, 10:07 AM: Thanks for flying with Transpacific! Your plane is at the gate and boarding will begin soon. We look forward to welcoming you on board.
There was a special place in hell reserved for the people who designed the lighting in airport bathrooms, Carly thought once again, as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror over the sink. But even if the lighting had been photo-shoot quality, she knew she looked like hell. Her eyes were pink and puffy, and her hair was still crunchy with the products Izzy had sprayed on it yesterday morning. She bent over and splashed her face with water, then patted it dry with a scratchy paper towel. It didn’t help.
As she walked to her gate, her phone vibrated in her pocket yet again, and she didn’t have to check to know who it was. She’d already tried to call three times this morning.
Heather, 10:09 AM: Please call when you wake up, I’m worried about you.
Carly tucked herself behind a pillar and looked out at the tarmac. Bright, blinding sunshine was bouncing off the nose of her plane, and the blue sky was dotted with puffy, plump, pearly-white clouds. A perfect summer day. Yet another thing she could ruin for Heather.
She took a deep breath and put her headphones in. She didn’t need all of Sydney Airport to hear this conversation.
After half a ring, Heather’s face popped onto the screen. She was wearing a pair of ice-blue silk pajamas, and her hair was in big just-woke-up waves.
“Are you okay?” she asked immediately.
“I’m fine,” Carly nodded, even though nothing could have been further from the truth.
“What happened last night? Did you get food poisoning or some—Wait, where are you right now?”
Carly swallowed. “I’m at the airport. I’m going home.”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen to Edward and Marlene?”
“No, they’re fine. Listen, I’m sorry I wasn’t there last night. I screwed everything up.”
“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” Heather asked again, frowning and leaning closer to the screen to look at Carly’s face.
Carly’s eyes started to water. “No, I’m not. I messed everything up. I ruined your cake, and I wasn’t there for the toast, and Catherine’s going to fire me, and I’m so, so sorry, Heather.”
“What are you talking ab—”
“And now I’m making it your problem again instead of figuring it out for myself, and I’m just … I’m so sorry. I screwed up again,” she sobbed loudly. In her peripheral vision, she saw someone stop walking and stare at her. So much for Sydney Airport not witnessing the Carly Montgomery Traveling Shitshow.
“Honey, stop. Take a deep breath,” Heather said. Carly obeyed, breathing through her mouth because her nose was too clogged. “Okay. One thing at a time. What happened with Catherine?”
“The plan didn’t work. The photos I took with—” She couldn’t even say his name. “The photos we took in Sydney, they didn’t work. Catherine told me she’s not promoting me, and she’s going to fire me instead.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m just … I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Heather.”
Heather sighed and leaned back on the pillow behind her. “I am too, hon. I missed you all night, and it sucked.” Guilt swirled so violently in Carly’s stomach she wondered if she was going to throw up.
“But,” Heather went on, “I know how badly you wanted to be there, which means something really awful must have happened to make you leave. Did you get sick? Did something happen with Nick?”
“I don’t want to talk about … about him. He’s not important. I’m so sorry, Heather. I hate that I didn’t show up for you. I hate that I’m always asking you to help me and save me and pull me out of trouble.”
Heather frowned. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who helps me.”
“No, I’m not, I’m—”
“You’re the one who flew over here and ran errands for three weeks straight,” Heather interrupted stubbornly. “You’re the one who helped me see the truth about Jack. You helped me get to Sydney, and you helped me get Marcus back when I thought I’d lost him forever. You’re the reason I woke up married this morning!”
Carly sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Her tiny image in the corner of the screen looked completely pathetic. But she wanted to believe what Heather was saying.
“I just feel like such a fuckup. I ruined your wedding, I ruined my chance at a promotion, I’m just … I’m nowhere.”
“Carly, listen to me. You’re not a fuckup. You’ve spent over ten years dancing in one of the most prestigious companies in the world, for God’s sake. Okay, so you won’t retire as a principal dancer, but you’re still exceptional. This isn’t all or nothing. Ballet makes you feel like life is all or nothing, like you’re perfect or you’re worthless, but let me tell you, when I was in New York I had it all, and it all came to nothing. You’re talented, and tenacious, and you’re going to figure out what comes next. I know you feel like you’re nowhere right now, but you’re going to be okay, I promise.”
Carly felt hot tears running down her cheeks and didn’t bother to wipe them away. She was so tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough. For Catherine, for the men she dated, for herself. But Heather was telling her that she was enough for her, even after she’d screwed up so completely.
“I should have been there,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you should have,” Heather replied. “Next time I get married, I expect you to stay for the whole night.”
Carly managed a small smile, but relief was a cold drink on a hot day. She hadn’t ruined everything. She hadn’t ruined the most important thing.
“If I thought that was ever going to happen, I’d promise to be there,” she said. “But I know you and Marcus are forever.”
Heather sniffed. “So are we. You and me. And at least you ran out before you could tell any embarrassing stories about me.”
Carly’s smile became a grin. “I did, didn’t I? But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell them now.”
“No, don’t,” Heather objected, but Carly was already pulling up the notes app on her phone.
“Come on, if I’m the world’s best maid of honor, I need to give the world’s best maid of honor toast,” she said, and Heather responded with a watery laugh. “Aren’t you a little curious to know which embarrassing story I picked?”
“Kind of,” Heather admitted.
“Well, then,” Carly cleared her throat and glanced around her to make sure none of the passengers at the gate were listening in. Then she began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Carly Montgomery, and Heather has been my best friend since we were eleven years old. Which means that since the very first day she arrived at the NYB school, she’s been looking out for me. Taking care of me, talking me down, helping me clean up my messes. We’re both only children, but she’s a big sister like that. On the day I got kicked out of ballet class for doing cartwheels, Heather went to the teacher and begged her to give me a second chance, and when she refused, Heather told her calmly that she was planning to teach the entire class to do cartwheels if I wasn’t allowed back into class. She’d planned a whole cartwheel clinic, just like she planned this whole beautiful wedding.”
Carly stopped to wipe away the tears that were running steadily down her cheeks. It didn’t matter that Linda had nearly had a stroke when she’d found out what Heather had done, and it didn’t matter that it was fear of losing her parents’ donations that had actually convinced the school to let Carly come back to class. What mattered was that Heather had fought for her. She glanced back down at her notes.
“That’s who Heather Hays was: the kindest, most stubborn, most terrifyingly organized child you’d ever met. And that’s who she still is. I used to think there was no one in the world who deserved a lifetime of Heather. And I still think that. But Marcus comes damn close, and I know he’s going to make her happy every day.”
Heather made a strangled sobbing sound and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“And then I’d tell everyone to raise their glasses to Heather and the luckiest man alive, Marcus.”
“Cheers!” Heather said, with another loud sniff. Carly wiped her own face quickly and closed the notes app.
“Thank you,” Heather said. “I wish you’d been here to give it last night. Are you sure you have to leave?”
Carly shook her head. “I need to go home. If Catherine’s going to fire me, I need to make a new plan.”
Heather’s shoulders drooped in disappointment, but she gave Carly a kind smile. “I’ll help, if you want. Apparently I’m pretty good with plans.”
Carly hesitated for a long moment. Then she nodded again. “I’d like that.”