Page 3 of Hot and Bothered
“They’ve already cut off my credit cards,” I said. “That’s their way of showing how angry they are. Reminding me of how much control they have over me.” I took a shuddering breath. “They’re going to be so ashamed. I bet all their friends and business partners are already gossiping about it. And Jacob’s family…” I buried my face in my hands. “They’re going to be so mad at my parents. They might even pull out of the merger.”
Evan’s eyebrow lifted higher and higher on his forehead the longer I continued to speak.
“I see,” he said slowly.
The world was starting to go fuzzy again.
“No, you don’t,” I said. “The whole family business is in jeopardy now. And it’s all my fault.”
I continued babbling about who knows what, but Evan sat by me the entire time, nodding and listening.
“I don’t know what to do,” I slurred. “I can’t go back. I just can’t.”
I listed precariously to the side. Evan caught me by the shoulders before I could slump to the ground.
He was warm and strong. I found myself cuddling down into his embrace.
“How about we get you home?” he said. “I’m sure things will look better in the morning.”
“I don’t think I have a home anymore,” I murmured.
My vision started to go dark. My body felt heavy, as if my limbs had turned to lead. I rested my cheek against Evan’s chest and let my eyes flutter shut.
“Lizzy, we’ve got a problem here,” I heard him say through a rush of static as his arms tightened around me. “I think she’s passing out.”
The world went black.
2
Apounding in my head woke me from a restless slumber. Unkempt hair covered my face, with a clump of strands having made their way into my mouth.
I dared to crack open an eyelid. The bright sunlight streaming through the curtains pierced through me. It was as if a dozen needles had been stuck into my eyeballs. My eyes shut reflexively as I groaned in pain.
My mouth tasted like a skunk had sprayed the inside, and I could sense the remnants of half a can of hairspray. My cheek was squished into the sheets. I didn’t know where the pillow had gone. The bed underneath me was hard and flat, nothing like the soft, fluffy mattress I was used to.
My eyes flew open in a panic.
I didn’t know where I was. Or how I had gotten there.
I rubbed my temples and tried to remember what happened the previous night. I had a vague recollection of strong arms carrying me. The scent of something earthy but sweet, like a dense, lush forest.
The night played backward in my head. That handsome guy with the soothing voice. The pretty girl behind a counter. The people staring at me. And the many,manydrinks I’d consumed.
I struggled to roll over onto my side and pushed myself up onto my hip, half-sitting, half-slouching. As my heart pounded, I took stock of my situation.
I was lying on a sofa bed. The room I was in was small. A desk and small filing cabinet were shoved in one corner. A rack of dumbbells and a workout mat was in the other.
And there, draped across a chair, was a rumpled and dirt-smeared wedding dress.
I let out a pathetic moan.
I remembered now.
I remembered getting up early that morning to get my hair and makeup done. I remembered my sister spending the entire afternoon lecturing me for one reason or another. I remembered sitting in the bridal suite and listening to the murmuring of hundreds of people waiting in their seats.
I remembered the anxiety squeezing my chest. The despair thrumming through my heart. I remembered my trembling hands and clammy palms.
I remembered grabbing my small clutch purse and running out the back door.
