Carried Away

“It’s really you––holy shit,” the insensitive asshole keeps repeating. “Sean? Gorman?” Like I should be excited to see him. We were strangers. Sean was just someone in my class that ignored me ninety-nine percent of the time unless someone was making fun of me.

“I know, I know. I look different too. Lost a few pounds…” he continues, mistaking my silence. He looks around. “You work here?”

Years of self-discipline kick in. I force the words out, taking care to deliver them in a steady and measured way. “My family owns it…yes, I work here.”

I hear myself sound indifferent and cool when in reality I’m falling apart inside.

“You look great. Damn, I barely recognized you, girl.”

I want to puke.

While Sean slow nods and undresses me with his eyes, a low growl comes from somewhere behind me. Unfortunately for me, Jake didn’t cut and run. He heard everything.

Sean’s attention darts over my shoulder. I know the moment he recognizes Jake by the look of surprise. “Aren’t you Jake Turner?”

Jake makes a humming noise. He steps closer, his body brushing up against my arm and hip. Even under layers of clothes, everywhere we touch a prickle of awareness fans out.

“What are you doing here, dude?” Sean examines Jake’s clothes. “You’re not here for the wedding obviously. Hey man, can I get an autograph?”

“Fuck, no,” Jake fires back. “And stop looking at my girl like she’s a snack or I’ll break you in two.”

Ummm…

Sean takes a step back, hands raised. He chuckles darkly. “No disrespect, bro. She and I go way back.”

“No, we don’t,” I blurt out, angry at his insinuation.

Sean gives me a dirty half-cocked grin. “Whatever…”

He doesn’t remember my name. I can see it in his eyes.

Sean back peddles out of the hallway and disappears into the dining room from the doorway on the other side.

And all I can think as I watch him go is…my one true test and I failed.

There’s something to be said for pride. I’ve been told it’s a sin. That it cometh before the falleth or some such nonsense. But I disagree. Right now the only thing holding me together is the last bit of pride I possess. If it weren’t for pride, I would be falling to pieces right now.

“Who was that?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ignore Jake’s question and take off down the hallway at a brisk pace.

“Carrie,” comes from right behind me.

“Stay here and I’ll bring it to you.”

“The hell I will. Who was he?”

It figures that the one time I don’t want to talk, he’s feeling chatty.

“No one. Leave me alone, Turner.”

Bursting through the double-doors of the kitchen––the kitchen on the family side of the building; not the hotel kitchen––I head straight for the walk-in pantry. Even though it’s dark, I don’t turn on the light. Right now I need a dark hole to get lost in and catch my breath. My hands are shaking and my legs feel like jelly from the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

Unfortunately for me, Turner is still in hot pursuit. “Carrie?”

Chalk it up to being tired and drained from the beautiful wedding I just witnessed, but I’m beginning to crack. No matter how hard I try to keep a lid on it, my chin starts to shake. Mostly because I’m mad at myself. I thought I’d come so far only to be reminded that one word had the power to wipe away a decade of hard work.

“Carrie…” Jake’s outline takes up the entire doorway. Backlit, he looks more ominous than usual.

I shrink even further into the pantry and don’t stop until my back hits the shelves and the mason jars ring, press my tips of my fingers into the corners of my eyes to stave off the tears. “I don’t wanna talk,” I say sharply and pray he gets the message.

For a moment it looks like he’s about to leave, but then he stops. “You’re upset. Who was that guy?”

If I was thinking straight, I would be the one asking questions. Like…what possessed him to tell Sean I was his girl. That––I would be interested in hearing more about. As it stands however, I’m barely capable of not crying.

“Just a guy from high school…a nobody.” Then I recall and the humiliation hits me all over again. I was the nobody. Not Sean. I was the one.

“Did you date him?” He almost sounds upset.

“He didn’t even know my name, Jake. No, we did not date. We never even spoke once before today.”

One slow step at a time, Jake comes closer. Close enough that we’re both in the shadows. I can barely see the outline of his features at this point.

Taking his ball cap off, he rakes his fingers through his hair and sighs, then he stuffs the hat in the waistband of his sweatpants. “Why did he call you that name?”