Victor watched as his mom approached his brother and pointed toward him. Next thing he knew, his brother and friends were pushing him down the beach to a hotel that didn’t house anyone who knew him, Corrie, or the whole sordid mess.
“Runaway bride. I kid you not.” Shannon sat on an abandoned lounge chair outside her hotel, away from the party atmosphere inside the restaurant and bar, and FaceTimed Avery.
“No way.”
“Yeah, I saw her less than an hour before the ceremony, in her dress. She bailed.”
“Dude, that’s rough.”
Shannon sighed. “Yeah, I hope she’s okay.”
Avery moved the phone closer. “Her? What about him?”
Shannon shook her head. “He’s a total tool. Didn’t deserve her. Completely full of himself.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he reminded me of Paul. Good-looking and knows it. Life is all about work and the next thing that needs to be conquered. Only she refused to be one of them. We could all take a lesson.”
“Still, what happens when someone flees on their wedding day?”
“I’m guessing they’re both getting drunk right about now.”
“Probably,” Avery said.
“Anyway . . . I can’t wait for you to get here.”
Avery grinned. “Meet anyone you might want to have a baby with?”
Shannon stretched out on the beach bed. “I haven’t even looked.”
“Not at all?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’ve been wrapped up in this wedding . . . or lack thereof. Besides, I told you I wanted to wait until we’re at the other hotel to look. People here will recognize me.”
“Right, right. When are you going to the new place?”
“The day after tomorrow, when you fly in. I’m planning to spend the whole time on the beach until you get here. Can you believe I’ve been here a full day and haven’t touched the water yet?” She turned the camera around in hopes she could capture the way the moon danced on the sea. “It’s remarkable here.”
“I’ll be there before you know it. I’ll call when I land.”
“Sounds good. Safe flight.”
Avery blew her a kiss and disconnected the call.
What a day. Very few that compared.
“Look who we have here!”
Shannon jumped, the voice behind her familiar.
“Good God. You scared me.”
Victor stood behind her, his shirt unbuttoned to midchest, pants rolled up and damp from barefoot walks on the water’s edge. The flower that once was upright on his lapel was now smashed against his shirt, with what looked like duct tape holding it on. The perfect picture of the wounded groom.
Turning away, she sat back on the lounge chair and watched the small waves push against the shore.
“Ms. Annoyed is scared,” he mocked her.
Yup. He was drunk. Shannon couldn’t blame him for that. “You should probably find your room and sleep that off.”
“Sassy.”
“Bossy,” she corrected. “And sober. So you might wanna listen. You wouldn’t want to stumble on the wrong beach into some kinda drug cartel situation.” She glanced over her shoulder. Saw him swaying as he stood. “Good Lord. Where is your brother? Isn’t he watching out for you?”
Victor shook his head. “I told him I was going to bed.”
She looked around. “Did you get lost on the way to your room?”
He glanced left, then right. “Misplaced.”
Another look around and she knew she wasn’t going to find any help. Pushing off her comfortable perch, she made a come-hither motion with her hand in an effort to direct him to his room.
Halfway there, he turned toward the noise of the bar. “I want another drink.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” His words exited his mouth in a slow, steady pace.
She remembered her morning and the need to phone a friend for a hangover cure and paused. The image of Victor spending his morning cussing the world probably wasn’t a horrible thing.
She smiled, started toward the bar. “I’m going on record that this is your idea.”
He grinned. “I’ll blame you in the morning.”
With that comment, she would see that he did.
They worked their way into the bar. It was late for the resort town, even on a Saturday. Seemed the town wanted to close up before midnight. So things were winding down but not completely empty at eleven thirty. Shannon slid onto a bar stool while Victor did the same with a little less grace. “My friend here would like a shot of mezcal,” she said for him.
Victor’s eyes opened a little wider. “Two,” he said, pointing to the two of them.
Shannon grinned. “I’ll take a vodka soda.” And when Victor turned his head away, she motioned for the bartender to hold the vodka. With a wink,