The paper slips out of my hand, and I watch it float back and forth until it lands on the floor. I walk the rest of the way down the aisle, seeing that a bouquet of white peonies is thrown on the floor right where I stood. The white printed-out email sits beside it. As I look down at it, everything inside me turns cold. "Fuck this shit," I say out loud to no one. "Travis was right. I need a drink."
I walk to the side of the room, where a back hallway leads you straight to the event space. I'm expecting to find my sister there, getting everyone organized and making sure the space is cleaned up. But that, too, is empty. The only sound is my heels clicking on the floor.
Walking into the event space, I see all the tables set up to host our guests sit eerily empty. I zigzag my way to the bar and stop when I see Ace sitting on one of the stools. A bottle of whiskey sits on the bar top next to a small glass. He pours himself two fingers’ worth and takes it in two gulps. Putting the glass down, he pours another bit. "Is this seat taken?"
Chapter 9
Ace
I unscrew the bottle of whiskey and pour two fingers full into the small crystal glass. I don't even wait until the bottle is down on the bar to take the gulp. The amber liquid burns from the start of my throat all the way down to my stomach. I quickly fill it up again and take another shot before gently placing the bottle on the top of the bar next to me. I look into the empty glass at the little drops of amber liquid. My head can still hear the words over and over as if it's on repeat. "I love you, Sheila." I shake my head. "For fuck's sake." I pick the bottle up again and pour a bit more than I did the last time. It takes two gulps to get it down. I hiss out as my stomach feels like a firepit. I put the glass down and pour another bit. "Is this seat taken?"
I hear her voice and turn to look at her. She's standing there in her wedding dress. The minute the doors opened and I saw her, I couldn't even help myself. I leaned over and whispered to Joseph that he was a fucking lucky man. Her blue eyes look like the deep end of the ocean does right before a storm rushes in, which should have been my first clue that something was up. Her eyes only get that dark when she is super pissed, but I just figured that it was her nerves. She pulls out the stool and sits next to me. "Not sure if they have enough booze to share with you." I joke with her and pour myself another glass. My hand picks up the glass, and I wince right before I swallow down the whiskey.
I look down at my hand, seeing the knuckle bloody and scraped. I close it in a fist again and open it feeling the tightness in the skin. "That always plays out differently in the movies." I shake my head and laugh. I didn't even know I was going to punch him in the face, but the minute he said my name, I just couldn't help it. Did it feel good? You bet your ass it did. Was it immature? You bet your ass it was. Would I do it again? You bet your ass I would. "In the movies, the guy just walks away with a swagger."
She throws her head back and laughs. "You definitely walked away with a swagger." She leans to me.
"Yeah, but it was also done with a wince." I pour another shot. "Thankfully, you couldn't see it."
She pushes away from the bar, and I help her get down. The dress looks like it's going to swallow her up. She walks around the bar as she walks to the end of the other side. I see her moving, but I have no idea what the fuck she is doing. My head is just a touch fuzzy, so I'm slow to ask her. "Whatcha doing back there?" My eyes follow her every move.
She walks back out from behind the bar, and I see her holding a white cloth in her hand. She gets back on the stool, and the dress goes bigger than when she's standing. "Is your dress growing?" I ask, and she laughs.
"No." She shakes her head. "When I sit, the crinoline moves up." She grabs my hand in hers and puts the white rag on it. "There you go, Rocky." I laugh and look over at her as she leans over the bar and grabs her own crystal glass.