“Okay,” Sarah said when he’d gone on his way. “Tell me everything.”
By the time she’d wrapped up the story, they’d finished their wine and most of the main course.
“Well, well,” Sarah said, looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream. “I’d still prefer a more physical form of revenge for him. Just a couple broken fingers. Maybe some itching powder in his hair gel.” She leaned out of the way so a passing server could refill her water glass. “Still, this is pretty satisfying. I’m glad you gave her the time.”
“So am I.”
Sarah dropped her napkin on the table. “With that, I must inform you that I have to pee.”
“Okay. You want me to go with you?”
“Do you have to pee?” Sarah asked.
“Not particularly.”
“In that case, can I ask you to do me a favor while I am relieving myself?”
“Yeah, sure,” Emmy said.
“May told me she has that pomegranate body spray I like in her purse. She left it in the bridal suite. Would you grab it for me? I would maybe like to attract a sex partner for the evening, and while I understand that men will overlook body odor if it means they get sex, I’d prefer to give off a more pleasing kind of aroma.”
“Oh, yeah. No problem. Meet you back here?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sarah tapped the tip of her finger to Emmy’s. “See you soon, lover.”
*
Emmy stood just inside the door of the bridal suite, her mouth agape. How could so few women create such an enormous mess? She found her little evening bag right where she’d left it and slung the thin strap over her shoulder. It only contained her keys, her wallet, and Barry, but she figured she might as well take it with her. The ceremony was over, so there was no risk of having the bag ruin the lines of her dress, or damage her silhouette, or whatever it was fashionable people said.
She scanned the room around her. There were wraps, shawls, purses, cosmetic cases, garment bags, various articles of clothing, a box of tampons, a to-go bag from whatever bakery had provided the pastries. This was going to take a while.
Emmy took a quick picture of the room and texted it to Sarah.
I will find ur body spray but it might take me a couple years. Pray for me.
Sarah’s reply came a moment later.
People still eating main course. u got time. God be with ye
With Sarah’s blessing, Emmy stuck her phone in her tiny clutch. Yet another benefit to keeping the purse withher for the rest of the night—she wouldn’t have to carry her phone around wherever she went. The zipper only closed about halfway with the new addition, but that was okay. She set the bag down against the wall by the door, then turned to begin her search. With no better idea of how to go about it, she started to wander the perimeter of the room. Maybe she had a better chance of finding the Ark of the Covenant than her sister’s purse, but Sarah was counting on her. She poked around, found her mother’s purse, but nothing of May’s. It didn’t help that she was pretty sure her sister had had at least three different bags with her when she’d bustled into the suite that morning. She found those, finally, piled against the wall beneath one of the vanity mirrors. One of them looked more purse-like, though it wasn’t her sister’s usual, and she felt what she believed was a well-earned surge of triumph when she located the pomegranate spray within its cavernous depths.
Now, with her quarry in hand, she noted how quiet it was. Part of her wanted to flop down on the nearest comfortable surface and bask in it, but a more dominant part of her knew it would be a bad idea to have too much alone time with her thoughts. Also, many people considered it uncouth to dip out of a sibling’s wedding and hide in the changing room. Holding the body spray in one hand, she carefully scooped up her bulging clutch in the other. She managed to use her elbow to press the door handle down enough to release the latch, and then she bumped it open with her hip.
Should’ve opened the door andthengrabbed the purse, she told herself, feeling a little foolish.
She stepped out of the bridal suite, kicked the door shut behind her, and promptly dropped everything. The plastic bottle of body spray bounced a couple times, losing its cap in the process, and rolled off somewhere. Her clutch hit the floor and vomited out its contents.
Will—not an illusion, not a hallucination, butWill—winced at her reaction and the ensuing mess. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to talk to you, so I… followed you up here. That sounds bad. I swear, I’m not going to hurt you. Shit, that sounds bad, too.”
She knew she should say something, needed to say something, but she couldn’t find her voice. He looked at her expectantly, his eyes pleading with her to let him off the hook. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Letting out a breath, Will ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it sounds like a line, but I swear this is the truth. I saw you earlier, and you looked familiar. I wanted to ask if we’ve met somewhere before.”
He was really there, was all Emmy could think. He was there, physically standing in front of her, wearing a dark gray suit and a striped green tie. For a second, right when she’d first seen him, it had been a dream come true. Now it hit her that he didn’t know who she was. He remembered nothing. This wasn’t the Will from the book. To this Will, she was a stranger.
She wanted to weep, but she’d done too much of that lately.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he would think she was a lunatic.
