“They can fix it though, yeah?” he said, realizing I was two seconds from losing it and stepping in front of me.
“Oh, definitely,” Kristin was saying, though I couldn’t be sure through the sound of blood whooshing in my ears.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, panicked that Chloe had seen this and was freaking out.
But it was only my mother: Honey, do you happen to know if your father packed his black dress shoes? I can’t find them in our room but he says he did.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket, tuning in as Kristin was saying, “They’ve fixed the line, now we’ll work on getting this area dried up or move everything a bit farther down the beach.”
Max turned to me, charming smile in place. “See? Nothing to worry about, mate. We’ll pick up the dresses, get you some food . . . or maybe some alcohol, judging by your expression, and everything will be fine when we return. And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just be taking these.” He plucked the keys from my hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, reaching for them.
“Sorry, Ben, best for everyone, I’m afraid. You’re likely to mow down pedestrians in your state of mind and that would put a definite wrinkle in the wedding festivities.”
“I can drive, Max. Give me the goddamn keys.”
“Have you seen yourself? Got that vein thing happening,” he said, reaching up to tap my forehead before I smacked his hand away.
Will snorted behind me and I turned, leveling him with a glare. He held his hands out in front of him. “The man has a point,” he said, backing away.
I spun to Max again. “Do you even know how to drive?”
“Of course I do.”
“Here?”
He waved me off. “Left side, right side. How different can it be?”
Max guided us back through the hotel and out to valet. We argued the entire way, me calling Max a bossy asshole, and Max asking me where I’d left my purse. Will trailed behind, half asleep on his feet.
An attendant approached us immediately, ignoring our bickering as he matched the keys to a list pinned to a clipboard. We followed him to a white cargo van parked at the curb, cool in the shade of a grouping of palms. I waved off his offer of directions, placed a few dollars in his hand, and turned my back as he walked away.
“So, the plan. Will,” Max said, waiting a beat before reaching out and smacking Will across the cheek.
Will startled, eyes wide. “What?”
“You all right?”
“God, I’m just so fucking tired.”
“Well, have some coffee and snap out of it,” Max said. “You’ll ride with us to the cleaners, then take a cab from there to pick up the rings.”
“What, am I your little sidekick now? Why can’t Henry help with any of this?”
“Because Henry talks too much and you’re much prettier,” Max said. “Who knows? We may need to sweet talk a feisty old bird at the dry cleaners, and who is better than you at seducing cougars?” He patted Will’s cheek, cooing, “No one, Blossom. No one.”
Will yawned, clearly too tired to argue, and waved him off. “Yeah, whatever.”
Max walked around the van, stopping just beside the passenger door. “Ben, your chariot awaits.”