Page 35 of Love's a Script
“For sure!” Mary said, and gestured for Bethany to follow her. As they approached the table, Mary readied herself, putting on a big, great smile.
“Ruben,” she said brightly, “I’d like you to meet Bethany. She’s the bridesmaid I was telling you about.”
Surprise crossed Ruben’s face before he smiled and greeted Bethany, who quickly took Mary’s seat. Their conversation was immediate, and Mary retreated to the other side of the round table next to the Arizona couple. She took sips of her tea and nibbled at the dessert squares, listening to the older couple share their plan to make wine with all the raisin boxes they’d collected when they got home.
Periodically, Mary would permit herself to glance over at Ruben and Bethany. While she couldn’t hear what they were talking about, Mary doubted it warranted all the laughing Bethany was doing. She could admit it was an ungenerous thought. She’d watched countless singles interact and was accustomed to the excessive preening, the awkward flirting, and the nervous ticks.
When a couple got up to sway to the slow music, they shifted the expectations of the evening, and gradually pop hits replaced the classical music and more people abandoned their seats to dance. It gave Mary something to fix her attention to other than the date happening across from her. That is, until Bethany and Ruben also made their way to the makeshift dance floor. Mary watched them for half a song—her shoulders growing tense with each syncopating beat—before she realized she didn’t have to be there.
Chapter Nineteen
“Having fun?” the Arizona couple asked Ruben when he returned to the table after a stiff round of dancing with Bethany. They’d exchanged contact information, but Ruben wasn’t sure there was much there.
“It’s certainly an evening,” he replied, retaking his seat.
He nibbled at the remaining dessert on his plate, scanning the room for Mary. He was sure she would have questions about the unofficial date. But ten minutes lapsed, and her seat was still vacant, so he asked the chatty couple, “Did you see where Mary went?”
“Oh, she called it a night,” Jillian said. “Poor thing seemed tired.”
“It’s been a long weekend,” he replied, already strategizing his exit. There was nothing else keeping him in the dining room, and he had a long drive tomorrow. He drained the last of the water from his glass and said goodbye to Jillian and Allen.
“It was nice meeting you,” Jillian said. “Let us know if you’re ever down in Arizona!”
Ruben rode the elevator up to his floor, and a mild case of melancholy came over him when he realized he and Mary had would soon revert to their roles as client and matchmaker. Then again, it was probably for the best, considering his attraction to her.
When Ruben arrived at the hotel room, he eased the door open, treading lightly in case Mary was asleep. But Mary was very much awake, and Ruben halted upon seeing her. She was still in her dress, reaching for something on her back as she craned for a look in the full-length mirror.
Mary froze when she finally noticed him. “My zipper is stuck,” she explained, slightly out of breath.
“Oh,” he said, stepping forward. “Can I help?”
“Please,” she said, presenting her back to him.
Ruben settled behind her, and making sure not to touch her unnecessarily, he reached for the tab and pulled. It didn’t budge. He tried again, applying a bit more force, but the results were the same.
“It’s really stuck, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yeah, I almost broke a nail.”
He fell quiet, trying to get a better grip and didn’t anticipate Mary asking, “So what did you think of Bethany?”
“Um, she was nice,” he said, briefly meeting her gaze in the mirror they faced.
“That’s good! And did you like her?”
“I did,” he said distractedly.
“Incredible! So, does that mean?—”
“One second,” Ruben said as he felt the zipper give a little. He pulled at the tab with all the might in his thumb and forefinger, ignoring how the small shiny discs covering Mary’s dress scratched his hand, but his effort was met with no success.
“You got it?” she asked, twisting to look over her shoulder.
“No,” he said, stepping away to consider the dress from a distance. “Did you try taking it off over your head?”
“Yeah, and I can’t pull my arms out.”
“All right,” he said, thinking. “We need to increase the leverage. If you brace yourself, and I hold you, it might help.”
