Chapter Twenty-One #2
Once the bridal party arrived, Charity bled into the background and watched as Kolby alternately videotaped the dinner and took candid shots.
The notion Colleen should hire a videographer came to her, something they’d talked about a few times but tabled for various reasons, chief among them, most people videoed events on their phones these days and didn’t want the added expense of a private, professional taping.
This was the third wedding in the past few months Kolby had been forced to perform two roles.
As usual, he did so with professional grace and charm.
Even through the pain in her head, she made a mental note to discuss with Colleen hiring someone else for future events.
The booze was flowing freely, as the groom’s father had requested, and by the time the main course of fresh lobster and shrimp was served, several of the ushers and bridesmaids were looking a little worse for wear.
If it were up to Charity, she would have cut them off because she could imagine the headaches and puffy faces they’d present with in the morning, something she knew no bride wanted to see in her party on her big day.
When the bride and her mother rose and made their way to the restroom as dessert was being served, she followed.
“How are you holding up?” she asked Jessie, the bride-to-be.
“I was just telling Mom I think we should leave. It’s getting late and I need to get some sleep. This has been a hellacious week at work and I haven’t been sleeping well. I don’t want to look haggard tomorrow.”
“Good idea. Do you need me to call a car for you?”
“No, her dad and I will drive her home,” Felicia, the MOB said.
“Is everything okay now with Darryl’s sister?” Charity asked.
“Yeah, she was just being her usual pain in the ass self,” Jessie said. “She’s always been like that. Gets overheated, spews, then it’s over.”
Since the two had been best friends since kindergarten, Charity figured the bride knew what she was talking about.
“Okay, well, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll see you at the church tomorrow morning.
Your glam team will be there. Breakfast is being catered by the Sweet Bye and Buy and the delivery should arrive around six thirty.
Limos are coming at six-forty-five to pick you up.
Flowers are coming at eight. I double checked everything this afternoon. ”
Felicia pulled her into a hug laden with Chanel No. 5, which set Charity’s head on fire. She tried not to breathe, but the scent clung to her. “You and your team are the best,” she declared.
Dizzy, Charity tried not to let it show by plastering what she hoped was a smile and not a grimace on her face, and exited the restroom moments after they left.
In the hallway, she fell back against the wall, her hands flying to her temples. Even with the pain galloping through her skull, an awareness spun through her. It was as if her body was attuned to his now and she knew whenever he was near.
“Let me take you home, Charity. Please. You’re hurting." His voice shook with concern.
“I need my car in the morning.” Her own voice, barely above a whisper, blasted through her head like she was standing alone in an echo chamber while a thousand drums were beating around her.
“Then let me follow you back to your apartment so I can make sure you get home without any issues.”
“You can’t. You still need to film.”
“I’m done for the night.”
When she opened her eyes, it was like looking through a piece of cheesecloth. A cloudy haze encircled his face, the edges jagged and blurred. “The dinner isn’t over.”
“Yeah, it is. The bride’s family is leaving, the groom with them. We’re not needed anymore, so let’s get you home and in bed.”
The sense of relief was almost as powerful as the headache.
With great care, and going well below the speed limit, Charity was able to drive without incident.
Twilight helped because the streetlamps hadn’t come on yet and traffic was sparse, so no blinding head lights shot into her eyes.
Kolby was on her tail the entire way. She parked in front of her building, Kolby pulling in right behind her.
Before she could open her door, he was there, a hand held out to help her alight from the car.
When he grabbed her bag, took her keys from her hand, and held her arm, helping her balance, she almost wept. She didn’t want to admit how much she leaned on him, physically, as he guided her up the staircase and to her front door.
Once in her apartment, he dropped her bag on the couch.
“Did you take anything other than what I saw at the church?” he asked as he followed her into her bathroom, stopping just at the doorway. She didn’t turn the lights on, just the thought of the glare increasing her pain.
“No.” She opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “I have some prescription stuff I can use now that I can lie down. It makes me sleepy so I can’t take it when I’m working.”
“Want me to get you a soda to wash it down?”
“Water’s good.” After swallowing the pills, she turned. Kolby filled the doorway as he leaned against the jamb. Even without bathroom lighting, the worry on his face was apparent.
No one other than her family, and at that, mostly her mama, had ever helped her during one of her episodes.
When she’d been away at college she’d suffered through a migraine alone, keeping herself isolated in her dorm room, which, thank you baby Jesus, had been a single.
She’d had no roommates to worry would come in, loud, and laughing, and turning on every light in the space when she was felled.
She’d never wanted to burden anyone with her issue. Never wanted anyone to see her as weak or frail or sickly.
But Kolby hadn’t batted an eyelash at the discovery of her affliction. He’d stepped up, offered advice and help, and catered to her as if she was the only other human on the planet.
How could she ever have thought him selfish or egotistical? Neither of those words could be assigned to him.
“Thank you,” she said.
With a nod, he stepped back. “Let’s get you in bed. I’m gonna go get your phone. You climb in and get comfortable.”
Alone, she slid out of her dress leaving it in a puddle on the floor, toed off her shoes and then crawled under the covers in just her underwear, not having any energy left to switch to pajamas and not even caring that he might see her in her bra and panties.
He had, in fact, already seen her in both and she’d lived to tell about it.
Kolby came back and placed a bottled water on the bedside table, then plugged her phone into the charger.
“Want me to set an alarm?”
“It’s preset,” she said, sleep tugging her under. Fighting it for just a moment, she stared up at him.
He bent over her and bracketed her body with his fists on the bed.
Her vision was blurry but even through it, his face was undeniably handsome.
Whether concerned, worried, laughing, or smirking, the man had the face a sculptor would have wept over.
His eyes were two huge oceans of concern as they perused her face.
If she’d had the strength, she would have reached up and smoothed the worry lines between his brows.
“You need anything else before I go?”
Even with a head splitting in two, her first thought had been to say, You. Lying down next to me. All night. Holding me. Just...holding me.
If she’d been physically able to, she would have rolled her eyes at thoughts she had no right to think.
But she could dream them.
“No,” she said at length. “Thank you again for everything.”
“You never have to thank me, Charity. But,” one brow rose to ward off what she was about to say, “you’re welcome. Get some sleep.”
She rolled over on her side, the covers tucked up under her chin. He rubbed her back for a moment, and she wanted to weep from how soothing it felt.
Just before she lost consciousness, she felt his warm lips press gently against her temple and that world of comfort drifted through her entire body. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’ll be better in the morning.”
“Your lips to the good Lord above’s ears.” She drifted off to the sound of his deep chuckle.