His face scrunches. “I didn’t go to the ceremony. Snooze fest.” His tone is arrogant and clearly shows he is intoxicated.
“I thought it was lovely service. Very romantic.”
“You would say that. You have a cunt.”
I balk, disgusted at his use of the C word.
When the song ends, I politely excuse myself and attempt to walk away from Marvin. I need to find Hugo and explain the circumstances of Marvin’s arrival. I know what it felt like when I thought he’d brought Victoria as his date, so I can understand his angry response.
Marvin clutches onto my wrist. “Just one more dance,” he requests, pleading into my eyes.
He stumbles in his inebriated state, bumping into Kerri and her dance partner.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, half-chuckling.
“Have you eaten anything tonight?” I ask, wrapping my arms around him to steady his heavy sways.
A puff of air seeps from my lips when he shakes his head. Taking my aide in keeping him on his feet as an open invitation, Marvin slithers his hand down my back and pulls my body flush against his. My skin crawls when he taps his fingers on the curve of my lower back. One inch lower and he'd be touching my backside.
“Thank you for the dance,” I say, pulling away from his embrace. “But I have to go.”
My brisk strides halt when Marvin says, “Did you know my dad is considering giving my partnership to Daniel?” His amused expression has changed to obfuscated.
Pain squeezes my heart. As much as Marvin irks me, we do have some similarities with our family situation. But there is one big difference between us. He still craves the approval of his dad, whereas I learned years ago I’m never going to get my dad’s seal of approval.
I peer into Marvin’s downcast eyes. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Marvin. You’re his son. He will always support you.”
When he stumbles again, I re-secure my grip around his waist and guide him to the bar at the side of the kitchen, wanting to get him as far away as possible from Jorgie’s guests before he makes a fool of himself, or even worse – me.
It takes several tedious minutes to assist Marvin across the expansive ballroom. Although my gaze remains planted on the floor, ensuring I don’t trip over Marvin’s stumbling feet, I can feel Hugo’s eyes on me. When I reach the bar, I gesture for Marvin to sit on a stool before moving to the kitchen. When I first enter the industrial-sized kitchen, it appears empty.
“Hello?” I call out, pacing further inside.
A lady with a tight bun pops out of a walk-in fridge and greets me with a smile.
“Umm… I have a friend a little drunk outside. I was hoping you might have something that could help absorb the alcohol sloshing in his stomach?”
Her smiles enlarges before she moves towards a massive walk-in pantry at the side of kitchen. My stomach rumbles when the smell of cranberry sauce filters through my nose. Since I was fuming with anger, I didn’t touch the confit stuffed duck leg they served at dinner. It smelled delicious, but my stomach was swirling so much that I couldn’t risk placing food in there. My lips curve upwards when the lady paces back to me with a bag of bread in one hand and a plate of the confit stuffed duck leg in another.
“For your friend,” she says in a thick, heavy accent, gesturing to the bread. “For you.” My mouth salivates when she hands me the overflowing plate of food.
“Thank you so much,” I say as graciously as possible, my insides beaming with excitement.
My eager steps back to Marvin falter when my eyes lock in on Hugo. He is sitting at the end of the bar, slamming down shots of whiskey like they’re soda water. I hope it is an open bar or his bank account will be hurting in the morning from the fifteen-dollar-a-nip whiskey he is guzzling.
My hackles bristle when Victoria prances towards Hugo. Snarling at me, she leans in to Hugo’s side and whispers something in his ear. Ignoring the desire to peg a roll at the back of Victoria’s head, I place my plate on the countertop and plop my backside on the spare stool next to Marvin.
“Ava, you’re a doll,” Marvin says, snagging the duck leg off my plate and devouring it like he’s never been fed.
Rolling my eyes at his rudeness, I rip off chunks of the bread and dip it into the cranberry sauce. I endeavor to keep my eyes off Hugo, but no matter how hard I fight, my eyes incessantly peer at him. I can’t help it. He is a magnet, and I'm attracted to him. Although he continues to exchange words with Victoria, his body language gives no indication that he is appreciating her attention. If anything, he looks annoyed. Once Marvin has consumed every smidgen of food on my plate, he lifts his eyes to mine. The concept of filling his belly with food instead of alcohol seems to have worked. His eyes are no longer glassy and bloodshot. They appear clearer with a slight hint of arrogance.
“Did you want to get out of here?” he questions.
I can’t miss the ambiguity in his tone.
Without hesitation, I shake my head. “It’s my best friend’s wedding. I’m her Maid of Honor.”I also don’t want to go anywhere with you.
“So?” he replies, his shoulder lifting into a shrug.
