“Well,” he continued, blowing out a breath. “I have to give it to you . . . Sewanee, was it? Wonderfully convincing.”
She closed her eye. “Okay, please–you have to let me explain.” She opened her eye. “Please.”
Nick dropped an elbow onto the bar, crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’m all yours.”
Given an opening, Sewanee froze. She didn’t know where to begin. How to begin.
Nick watched her expectantly. “Why all the lying?” He twirled a finger. “Annnnd action.”
She stomped her foot in frustration, threw her head back, and said, a bit too loudly, to the ceiling, “Because I’d had a bad day!” She took a get-control-of-yourself breath and continued. “Because some random guy approached me in a bar. Because it was only supposed to be one drink.” Now that she had started, she gushed. “I felt terrible about it, Nick. As soon as we got to dinner, I thought, tell him the truth, but–again–you were leaving after that and, and . . .” She sighed. “I was protecting myself. Maybe. I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter why I did it, I just shouldn’t have done it and I’m sorry.” She looked into his eyes, really looked. “So, so, so sorry, but please believe me when I say that what started as a lie did not end as one.”
He just stared at her.
Unable to hold his gaze, she looked at her shoes. “Go ahead. Say it. I deserve it.”
“How could you . . .” He drifted off and, stomach in her throat, Sewanee glanced up. “Keep all of that going the whole time?” There was a genuine note of reverence in his voice. “I mean . . .” He lowered his gaze at her. “The whole time.”
She opened her mouth to explain further, but he started clapping. “An editor from Texas named Alice. Brilliant!” Then he shrugged. “And, yeah, I get it. Vegas.” He pointed at the bar. “Wanna drink?”
“Are you . . . you’re not upset?”
“Upset? I want to take lessons from you.”
“That’s–that’s it?”
“Well, that and . . .” His eyes roved down her body. “That’s a beautiful dress.” He turned to the bar, pitched his voice. “Mate! Before you pack it all up, could I bother you for–” He turned back to Sewanee with a collusive smile. “Vodka soda, was it?” At her open-mouthed blank stare, he said to the bartender, “Two vodka sodas, please.” He came back to her once again, leaned an elbow on the bar once again. “So how you been?”
“Can we . . . I have a few hundred questions for you, June French’s nephew, that I’d like to–”
“Ah, sure, yes, shoot.”
She began vibrating. A pulsing vibration. Before she could ponder how he had this effect on her, she realized the vibration was real and coming from her ballgown’s right pocket. She dug her phone out to dismiss the call, assuming it was Mark checking in on her, only to see on the screen: SEASONS.
“I-I actually have to–”
“No worries. I’ll be here. Admiring that dress.”
Flustered, still looking at him, she brought the phone to her ear. “Hello? What?” She pivoted away, her attention going fully to the call. “When? I was just there! I’ll be right over. No, I’m coming right now, don’t do anything else.” She dropped the phone from her ear, but instead of moving, she simply stood there, let it dangle at her hip.
Nick straightened. “Everything all right?”
“It’s my grandmother.” Sewanee raised her eye to his. Heard herself say, “She tried to kill herself.” Once the words were said, she jolted into movement. “I have to go. Oh my God.” But she stopped again.
“What can I do?” Nick’s voice helped spur her to movement once more.
“I don’t know. Nothing. I’m sorry, I . . . I have to go.” She went out the main doors, Nick right behind her. There was a taxi parked in a waiting zone. Then Nick was opening the door and she was plunging through it. He jumped in after her, she told the driver where to go, that it was an emergency, and minutes later, Sewanee was jumping out before the car had fully stopped. Nick threw cash at the driver and charged after her.
She was already through the front doors when Nick called out, “I’ll wait in the lobby!”
She heard the words, but made no acknowledgment. She was already navigating the hallways leading to Blah.
SEWANEE ROUNDED THE corner into her grandmother’s room. There were three people huddled around the bed. “Where is she?” Sewanee demanded.