Worthless Page 8
Amy pushed back from the table and sprinted for the bathroom, making it in time to aim for the trash can, unfortunately not the toilet.
Tears filled her eyes. God, could that have been any more embarrassing? She rose, expecting nausea to fill her again, because in her experience, these things always came in threes Except when she stood, she felt better, as if she’d never been sick at all.
“Amy?” Ian’s mom, Joy, was hovering in the bathroom doorway. Behind her, were Olivia and Danny. Behind them, she could see Mitch, looking concerned and slightly disgusted. “Are you okay, honey?” Joy handed her a damp towel, which she accepted gratefully.
“Yes. I’m okay now. It must’ve been the shrimp. It’s been a while since I’ve had shellfish. Could I’ve developed a new allergy?”
Olivia gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “No. If you were allergic, you’d be turning blue now and I’d be cutting a hole in your throat.”
“Ew.”
“You feel better now?” Olivia probed, falling into the role of nurse naturally.
“Yes. Weird, right? I’m sorry for interrupting the party. Let’s go back to the table.”
Olivia and Joy exchanged a look, and then Joy looked behind her at Mitch. “Glad you’re feeling better, but perhaps you should go rest at home. Just in case,” Joy said.
Amy felt her eyes fill again at the well-meaning motherly advice. Why was she crying at the drop of a hat lately? This morning, she’d cried when a teenager had walked her dog by the store and stopped to give the dog some kisses.
“I really feel better,” she said.
“But you could be contagious,” Danny pointed out. “I’ll drive you home.”
She looked at him and scowled, mostly at the idea of how much she liked the idea of having time alone in a car with him while he took care of her. “You don’t even have a license. Besides, this is your sister’s engagement party. You need to stay. Mitch drove me here, he can drive me home.”
Mitch shuffled forward a bit. “Actually, Amy, I have a work trip in two days. If you’re contagious, I’d hate to catch it. Besides, he’s your roommate. He’s heading that way anyway.”
“Great,” Danny said, as if the matter was settled.
“I don’t even have my car here,” Amy protested. “I’ll take a taxi and everyone else should stay here.” Though, looking around, she realized she was the linchpin for Mitch and Olivia being here. If she left, half the party would feel obliged to exit. “I’ll stay for a little longer, have some ginger-ale and chill on the couch.”
At this point the entire party had left the dinner table and was gathered around the bathroom door discussing logistical arrangements. Her humiliation was complete, and with it, annoyance that Mitch had made things more difficult by not simply taking her home.
“Everyone go back to the table,” she said loudly, but her queasiness was back and she turned to gag into the garbage can again.
Danny took over. “Joy, please help Cat clean up.” He turned to Ian. “Ian, keys.” Then he turned to her. “Let’s go, Amy.” He stepped in, wrapped an arm around her waist, which was honestly the best feeling in the world at that moment. He led her through the crowd and to the front door. Ian was back with a set of car keys in seconds, handing them to Danny.
Goodbyes were hurried, unsatisfying, and embarrassing as Cat rushed from the kitchen to shove a garbage bag at Danny, which was obviously meant for her. She blinked and they were in the elevator, racing down to the underground garage where Ian’s dark SUV was parked.
“Thanks for driving me home,” she mumbled as she settled into her seat with Danny’s assistance. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, no hesitation, no fear of contagion.
“You can count on me,” he said seriously. She frowned slightly and swiveled in her seat to watch him walk from the passenger side around the back of the car and into the driver’s seat. What had he meant by his last statement?
Perhaps it was a comment on her, and how she’d ghosted out of Danny’s life after sleeping with him.
“When’s the last time you drove?” she asked, watching him figure out the keyless starter button.
“Long time,” he said. “Hope I remember how.” He jokingly put the car in neutral and revved the engine.
“Danny,” she said, laughing. “Get me home, and do it in one piece. Drive really carefully. It’d suck to get pulled over.”
“True,” he said, reversing carefully out of the spot and maneuvering out of the garage. They rode in peaceful silence over the bridge connecting Miami Beach to downtown Miami. Amy rested her head against the warm glass window and looked off in the distance at Miami’s neon glowing downtown skyline.
“Feeling better?” Danny asked, glancing over at her.
“Much,” she said. “I probably ate something off.”
“If that’s true, we’ll all be vomiting in the next day,” he said.
“Or I’m pregnant,” she joked. “Unlikely.” More silence. “Cat and Ian look happy. I’m thrilled for them both.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you ever want that?” she asked, bravely.
“Want what? What they have?”
“Yes,” she said, and not subtly added, “Olivia is pretty. And nice, don’t you think?”
“Who?”
“Olivia. The beautiful woman who sat next to you,” she said, feeling strangely elated that he hadn’t even remembered her name.
“Oh, yeah. Her. Drew’s gonna go after her.”
She straightened. “He told you that?”
Danny chuckled. “Nah. Could tell. Gonna be fun to watch.”
She thought about that for a second, then, “What’d you think of Mitch?”
Danny didn’t answer for a second and as she was debating whether or not to repeat her question, he answered. “Who’s driving you home?”
“You are,” she answered, slightly puzzled.
“’Nuff said.”
Olivia pushed her way out of the elevator, needing air, and giving a small prayer of gratitude to the elevator gods who hadn’t let her get stuck in the tiny room with Drew and blondie. Not that getting stuck was likely. Ian and Cat’s apartment was seriously fancy and upscale.
But given the tension sparking between her and Drew all night, it would’ve been her kind of luck for them to get stuck in the elevator together. What was his deal anyway? He’d come to the dinner party with a date—a tall gorgeous blonde—why had he been eye-fucking her all night and picking political fights with her instead of focusing on his girlfriend?
Or maybe they weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend? Maybe she was eye-candy, which wouldn’t explain why Drew had brought her to the intimate dinner engagement party which was for good friends and family only.
Not that Olivia was a friend or family. She hadn’t been able to figure out why Cat had invited her to such a small family affair, until she’d been introduced to Cat’s brother. Then she’d got it. It was a set-up, though it had been done so smoothly, she hadn’t suspected a thing until she’d been seated next to Danny at the dinner table.
Poor Cat. She had no idea that Olivia was never going to go for her brother, because he wasn’t really her type, and more importantly, he was sleeping with Amy. And speaking of Amy, she had to get to her house tomorrow because the poor girl obviously had no clue that she was possibly pregnant.
She’d truly believed she’d eaten bad shrimp or had a virus. Olivia sighed as she strode across the limestone tile lobby floor of Ian and Cat’s apartment on her way out to find her car.
“Where are you going?” An unwelcome masculine voice from behind her. She turned to see Drew stalking toward her, his date in tow.
“To my car?” she said, slightly snarkily, because where else would she be going after the party?
“Didn’t you park in the garage?”
“The garage?”
“Yes,” he said, as if she were an idiot who didn’t know what a garage was. “The spots reserved for guests.”
“We’ll walk you,” he said decisively.
“No need.”
He eyed her up and down. “Not your call. It’s late. This neighborhood can get sketchy at night. We’re walking you.”
She sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” Though inwardly she was slightly shocked. Who would’ve guessed Drew was a gentleman?
“Dreeew,” the tall blonde whined. “Have you seen my heels?” She lifted one foot in the air a little while they all glanced at her ridiculously high, pencil-thin heels.
“Then wait here,” Drew ordered and pointed to the funky blue velvet sofa in the lobby.
The woman pouted, glanced from Drew to Olivia, then rolled her eyes. “I’ll go.”
Now Olivia wanted to roll her eyes, because they were going to have to walk at a glacially slow pace, and she’d parked two blocks away.
Nearly ten minutes later, they’d made it to her car, having walked the entire way in silence punctuated only by tiny moans and groans of pain from Drew’s date.
“Get in your car,” he said, in a tone that almost sounded like an order.
Olivia frowned at him. “Thanks for walking me. Bye.” Was that enough of a hint she wanted him gone? While they might not have said a word while walking, she’d been hyper aware of him at her side. It wasn’t fair to make such a jerk good-looking with his light brown almost blond-streaked hair and tall body that looked as if he wrestled alligators for a living rather than being the business end of his nightclub. He’d even smelled good, which she’d known because every time she tried to walk faster, he’d kept pace and gotten close enough for her to smell him.
Well, after tonight, she’d never see him again unless she suddenly changed her personality and became the kind of woman to go to nightclubs after work instead of home for dinner with Mami and Papi. She hopped in her car and pushed the ignition button. Nothing. Shit.
She tried again, and felt her cheeks heat, because, rather than walking away, Drew stood on the sidewalk looking down at her through the window, arms folded across his wide chest, clad in a pale green dress shirt with purple tie that should’ve looked ridiculous, but instead looked sophisticated and sexy on him.
She stabbed at the button one last time, almost desperately, but got nothing. Maybe she should’ve done something about the check engine light that had been on for the past week. But who had time? She’d been caring for her patients, had to attend a funeral of a former patient, and during any free time—hah—help out her parents around the house.
“Car trouble?” Drew bent down to put his face near her window.
Olivia grabbed her purse and climbed out of the car forcing him to step back. “It’s dead. I’ll call my brother.”
Drew frowned. “What’s your brother going to do?”
“He owns a body shop. He’ll take care of it.” She pulled out her phone to call Gabe, but it went straight to voice mail. She texted and waited. Nada.
“Drew, can we get going?”
They glanced at his date who’d taken off her shoes and was standing barefoot on the dirty sidewalk.
“I can call you a taxi, but I’m waiting with Olivia,” he responded.
This time the blonde shot her a scathing look as if she’d set this whole thing up in an elaborate plot to steal Drew. Hah, she was welcome to the jerk. However, by walking her to her car and waiting with her, he was proving that he wasn’t one hundred percent the guy she’d thought when he’d been arguing health care reform with her during dinner.
“I’ll wait,” the woman said, stepping over to Drew and wrapping her arms around him, staking her claim. Olivia was slightly embarrassed, but she hadn’t caught the woman’s name, and by now it was rude to ask.
Drew made no move to shake off the touch, accepting it as his due. The jerk was probably hoping Olivia would come join them and they’d have a threesome right there on the sidewalk. In his dreams. Only, the thought of having her hands on Drew made her shiver in a good way. Ugh. She tried calling her brother again. “Dammit, Gabriel, why aren’t you picking up?” She glanced at the time on her phone. It was too late to call her dad and he’d freak out that she was out this late alone on the beach.
She might be twenty-six years old, but to Colombian fathers, their daughters were always little girls under their watch.
“I’m driving you home,” Drew decided. “Leave your car here, and your brother can come get it in the morning.”
She glanced at her car and her indecision must’ve shown on her face. “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he said. “It’ll be fine parked here overnight.” She stepped over to the parking signs which listed the rules and regulations and confirmed Drew was correct.
“I live way far south,” she said, slowly. “It’s probably out of your way.”
“Drew lives in Morningside,” Blondie said, as if her knowledge of Drew’s zip code was proof she had a stronger connection to him. “Which is not close to you, so maybe you should Uber or something.”
“Scarlett, I’m driving her home,” Drew said. “Either you’re in for the ride and anything that comes after, or I’ll call you an Uber.”
Ay, Dios mio, Olivia did not want to come between these people’s plans, but it wasn’t as if she had a decent alternative. At least she knew blondie’s name now, not that she’d cared much one way or the other.
“I’ll go for the ride,” Scarlett mumbled ungraciously, shot Olivia rays of death from her eyes, and then clung to Drew. “Carry me, baby?”
Drew laughed and gave his back to her. “Hop on. Your chariot awaits.” Scarlett jumped on his wide back, her bony ankles wrapping around his hips.
“Carry my shoes, will you, Olive?” Scarlett called back, leaving Olivia to scoop up the discarded stilettos and follow after the couple feeling like the most awkward third wheel ever.
“It’s Olivi-A,” she muttered and stalked after them as they made their way back to the parking garage in Ian and Cat’s building.
The ride home only got more awkward.
“Should I climb in the truck bed?” Olivia asked, eyeing Drew’s glossy black Dodge Ram, which was not at all the car she’d expected him to drive. With his clothes and haircut and overall demeanor, she’d taken him for a shiny red sports car guy. Clearly she’d been way off. This was the kind of truck her brother would salivate over to customize.
“Don’t be stupid. It’s a double cab,” Drew said, and opened the door for her to climb into the backseat bench that had enough depth for half a butt cheek. She climbed in, trying not to flash anything, which was awkward in her tight, short dress and heels. Drew helped Scarlett up to the passenger seat, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
With ease he pulled out of the spot and got them started toward the south of Miami. Olivia hadn’t given him her exact address yet, but told him the rough direction of her family home. She didn’t miss the sneer on Scarlett’s face when she said she was south and west of the Falls shopping mall. The woman probably rarely ventured off South Beach, and therefore was not a true Miamian.
She proved it further by commenting in surprise at nearly every random thing they drove past. Once they’d left the glittering lights of downtown and were passing strip malls, Circle Ks and gas stations, the woman couldn’t shut up about how ugly Miami was.
“Not like Europe, right, Drew?” she cooed and launched into a description of her last modeling trip to Amsterdam. Apparently, convenience stores were banned in the Netherlands.
“Wouldn’t know. Never been,” Drew commented, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.
Olivia had never been out of the U.S. either except when she was seven and her family had flown to Colombia to say goodbye to her dying abuela on her father’s side. There hadn’t been much sightseeing, and she only had vague memories of large family gatherings and getting told to eat, then eat some more. She liked Drew a fraction more that he coul
dn’t talk European hot spots.
Scarlett was either stupid or tone deaf, because instead of changing the subject, she continued to talk about restaurants and various nightclubs in London versus Milan. Olivia tuned her out and watched the familiar landscape of Miami speed by through the tinted windows of Drew’s truck.
Drew didn’t contribute much to the conversation except to add that he was a burger and fries kind of guy. He had no opinion as to the best sushi bar in Miami, but did say that when he caught a fish, it was tossed on the grill, and not sliced and eaten raw.
Olivia giggled, earning another wink in the mirror. Was he really this much of the Southern good-ole-boy, the way he was acting, or was this a front for Scarlett’s benefit? She didn’t know and reminded herself to ask Amy what she knew about Drew tomorrow when she stopped by.
Because that was another reminder. Tomorrow morning, as soon as she’d taken care of her broken car, she had to pick up a home pregnancy test and head to Amy’s. Her friend had no idea she was possibly pregnant. She’d been earnest talking about bad shrimp. As a nurse and as her friend, she felt obligated to intervene.
“Oh my gawd, the houses are tiny.” Scarlett’s voice pulled Olivia from her reverie and back to focusing on the never-ending ride. “And like, does everyone have nineteen piece-of-shit cars in their driveway. How many people live in each house, anyway?”
She leaned forward. “Turn right up ahead at the house with the fence,” she directed Drew. “Actually, most of this neighborhood is multigenerational. For example, I live with my parents and my abuelo.”
“You live with your parents?” Scarlett’s tone could not have made her opinion on Olivia’s living situation clearer.
“Yes,” she said defiantly. Truth was, she’d been debating for the past year whether or not to find her own apartment as her brother had done, but she was still paying off nursing school loans. Where do you live? A dungeon? She only thought the words, not up for starting a full-on war. “Left up here and then it’s the first house after the corner.”