Page 22 of Time Served in New York
“Shit,” I whispered, imagining howthatwent over in the lobby of a place like this. I could see the whole thing happening in slow motion, and I felt my stomach flip. “That sounds . . . God . . . It’s just . . .”
“She’s gonna blow!” Hannah said as she scrambled off the bed.
Someone thrust an ice bucket at me, and I took it just as I gagged and threw up at least half a gallon of champagne and what looked like a . . . hot dog.
“Oh man! That’s nasty,” Hadley said right before she gagged.
“When did I eat a hot dog?” I asked as I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “What the hell?”
I got up and stumbled to the bathroom. After I’d dumped and washed the ice bucket, I brushed my teeth and then got into the shower. While I stood there under the hot spray, images of what we’d done after we left the bridal shop came to me in flashes, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
We’d walked through Central Park with the guys, laughing as Blue, Preacher, and Brea stayed alert for muggers and then stopped to listen to a man playing a violin. Not far away were some street performers dancing to music coming from a speaker they had, and somehow, they ended up in front of the violinist with us. After he switched from current hits to classic country, we tried to teach the dancers how to two-step and do the Cotton-Eyed Joe.
The last thing I remember was watching Marler hand a wad of bills to one of the dancers, and then I woke up hearing the kids giggling and carrying on as they came into the suite.
I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the cool tile as I wondered if my liver would make it back to Texas unscathed. Considering we had lunches and dinner parties scheduled for the next three days as well as a bridal shower, a lingerie party,anda bachelorette party, I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the wedding, let alone the reception and the trip home.
“I’m back,” I heard Marler say from right outside the shower. I opened the glass door a fraction to say something to him, and he started laughing. “How ya feeling, sweetheart?”
“I think I’m still a little drunk,” I admitted.
Marler snickered and handed me a bottle of Gatorade before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few pills. “Tylenol for the impending headache, and Gatorade to stave off the dehydration from trying to pickle your liver. Hopefully those will do the trick because we’ve got dinner in less than an hour.”
“Where’s Jared?”
“Desi and Lyric took him and Boo to the penthouse. We can pick him up when we’re finished.”
“I’m a horrible mother,” I moaned before I swallowed the pills with a few chugs of the drink Marler had handed me. When it was half gone, I was already feeling better, and I handed it back to him. “Do you think I’m a horrible mother?”
“Of course not,” Marler said with his eyebrows knitted together. “Why would you even ask that?”
“The girls know I was drunk this afternoon.”
“Honey,everyoneknows y’all were drunk this afternoon.”
“That’s not a good example to set. Think of what they’re learning from me,” I wailed.
“When you start teaching them how to cut lines on your makeup mirror using a credit card youborrowedfrom your elderly neighbor, then I’ll say you’re not a good example. Right now, you’re just a word of warning that even occasional binge drinking is bad and can make people puke in lobbies and toss their cookies into ice buckets.”
“The credit card and coke on the mirror was oddly specific,” I muttered before I shut the shower door and leaned back into the water. Loud enough that he could hear me, I said, “I know you won’t let me get that far.”
“I know you’d never steal from the elderly, babe,” Marler assured me before he laughed again. “You better hurry up. The girls are almost ready, and I will be, too, as soon as I change clothes.”
“Ten more minutes!”
“Three,” Marler bartered.
“Eight!”
“Five, and if you’re not out when time’s up, I’m going to show your daughters the video I took of you and Matalie harassing that mime in Central Park.”
“What?”
“Hurry up, Pandora! Clock’s ticking!”
7.
MATALIE
