Page 27 of Perfect Fit
“I think I lost a c-contact!” I cry.
“It’s on your cheek. Hold still.” One of his hands cups the back of my neck, warm and heavy, while three of his knuckles settle on my cheek. “Got it,” he breathes, sending minty breath over my skin. “I have contact solution in my car. Come here.”
The hand on my neck drops to wrap around mine. Will pullsme deeper into the parking lot. I’m crying harder now, squeezing both of my eyes tightly shut as he leads me. Finally, he pulls me to a stop and unlocks his car.
“Here.” Will transfers the rogue contact from his fingertip to mine and douses it with saline.
I crouch in front of his side mirror, carefully securing the contact back in place. But once it’s fixed up, my tears keep coming. My body is heaving with sobs. Will doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me again, either.
I am really,reallycrying. Not cute, dainty crying. Not soft, silent crying. I’m hacking sobs, sniffing like I’ve got a runny nose, hiccuping, gulping for small sips of air. I see Will’s hand flinch down by his side, like he’s tempted to comfort me but decides against it.
“W-What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I saw the press. Came to see if I could help.”
This admission does absolutely nothing to curb my tears. “We’re ab-bout to close,” I tell him.
“Probably for the best,” he admits darkly. “Truth be told, that’s the help I was going to offer. Or strongly suggest.”
I sob-laugh. “It was tragic.”
“That all? I’ve been hearing adjectives like understaffed, incompetent, and—brace yourself, this one’s going to sting—bad lighting.”
“All of the above.”
“May I say,” Will murmurs, “it’s unlike you to get eviscerated for bad lighting?”
“You may. It’s a factual statement.”
My tears ebb, and the blue in his eyes concentrates. “Why are you crying? Did something specific happen, or was it just… everything?”
I shake my head, pushing hair out of my face so I can see him more clearly. He’s dressed simply in light jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, his brown hair mussed. “No. I mean, yes, it was everything. But I’ve dealtwith shit hitting the fan more times than I can remember without crying. It was about Camila.”
Will looks down at me, his frown deepening. “Your CBO?”
“She’s also my best friend. And her bachelorette party, which I planned, is next Saturday. We’re going to Nashville, and she wanted to visit this club, only they double-booked us, and now I don’t know what we’re supposed to do that night that feels special for her. And I really want it to feel special,” I say, pushing down another sob, “because Camila has been this rock for her family almost her whole life. When she was sixteen, her mom died, and she was basically in charge of all her sisters and little cousins. Her grandma was Camila’s legal guardian, but she was ill. Anyway, Cami’s done a lot for her family, and for once, it’sherturn to have everybody care about her and love on her and celebrate her. Out of all that family, she picked me to be her maid of honor, and I don’t want to fuck it up.” I finish in a whisper.
I didn’t notice until now, but my mascara is smudged over the collar of his T-shirt. I must have really bumped him earlier. “Fuck, I stained your shirt.”
He glances down. “It’s no big deal. What’s the name of the club? In Nashville?”
“Andalo. They sent a list of other places I can call, so at least that’s something.”
“But Camila specifically wanted to go there,” Will clarifies.
I nod. “They do a whole shebang for bachelorette groups. Fireworks that come out of champagne, disposable cameras, special songs from the DJ, bottle service. I booked the table months ago. I don’t know what happened.”
Will’s hands dip into his pockets. “How about this. You forward me that email. I’ll call the other clubs and see what can be done. You head inside and close that shit show down for good.”
“Will, that’s not part of your job.”
“I know it’s not. Let me help anyway.”
“Why?”
He frowns. “Because you need help, that’s why.”
I don’t have the bandwidth to decode his expression right now, so instead, I forward him the email from the club and say a quick thank-you before heading back inside.
