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Drew must also start to feel concern, because he says, “So you’re certain we can walk around for a while, and then she can come back in?”
The guard smiles again. “Sure.”
He unlocks one of the double doors and opens it to the cool night air. Outside is a concrete ledge that juts over a pit. Just as I figured, this is where deliveries arrive.
Jeremy angles me toward the door. “Go on now.”
“But—”
“Out you go.” He gives me a hefty push.
I stumble forward onto the concrete ledge. There isn’t much space before the sharp drop where trucks pull up.
“Watch that!” Drew shouts.
I hear nothing else. My heel snaps, caught in the ridge between the concrete and the metal edge of the loading dock. I wave my arms, trying to sidestep and move toward the stairs I see to the right.
But I’m off balance. I can’t find my footing on the broken heel.
I tilt forward to stare into the concrete hole.
Then, like a big ol’ peach careening off a grocery store display, I start to fall.
Chapter 2
DREW
I lunge forward to grasp Ensley around the waist. “Gotcha.”
She lets out a startled cry, so I turn her around and pull her against my chest. I’m going to cream that guard. I hold on to her, the funny peach skirt ballooning out behind her. She hiccups against my tux jacket.
Jesus. I remember her growing up. She often bugged us when I was over at her house to toss the ball around with Garrett. She was a serious pest, a tiny package of pure nonsense, spying on us from the windows.
Once she insisted on making us lemonade by stealing lemons from the neighbor’s prized citrus tree, something that’s hard to grow in Alabama. We ended up having to fetch her kicking and screaming after she got caught. I still remember chucking her tiny frame over my shoulder to haul her home.
She’s not so little now. Her hair smells of flowers and beauty products. The strapless bridesmaid dress shows off her tan shoulders. It’s March, and no time for sunbathing. I start to picture her naked in a tanning bed when a loud thud makes me turn.
The guard has shut the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bolt turning.
Ensley pulls away from me. “He locked us out.”
I straighten her so she can stand. “You all right?”
She bends down to look at the broken shoe. “I won’t be running a marathon in these.”
I pull on the door handles. They don’t budge. No sense banging on them. That clown will be long gone. “Not going back this way.”
“We can walk around front.”
I glance down at her shoe. “In that?”
“I’ll be fine.”
We move toward the stairs. Ensley clutches the rail, trying to compensate for the broken heel. Finally, she pulls both shoes off. “I’m fine barefoot.”
I’m not so sure. It’s a long way around.
I’m ambivalent about missing the ceremony. It was always going to be the Felicia show. When I signed on, I was the best man with only one other groomsman. The wedding was supposed to be small and informal, made up primarily of longtime friends. Franklin and I were roommates at Georgia Tech.
