Say Nothing... (The Speak Series Book 2) (17 page)

"You mentioned Ari worked for a law firm. Any chance they could handle this? The band's manager and PR person are on their way back from Japan. It was supposed to be a quick trip." Amos is rambling nervously.

"Babe."
Shit!

I shake out my trembling hands and meet him in the doorway.

"Yeah," I say, feigning ignorance. As if I don't already know he's about to ask me to do the impossible.

"She's here. What is it you need exactly?"

"Hi, Ari. Sorry to bother you. I was just telling Ben that Jalen got picked up for DUI. He mentioned you worked for a law firm, so I was wondering if they worked with these types of cases or if you could offer a referral to someone who does."

Ben knows the type of law my office practices, so it's not like I could lie. He's finished shaving and is now leaning against the bathroom counter expectantly. I'm not good at being put on the spot, especially given the situation.

"We're a criminal defense firm. My bosses specialize in DUIs." The words are out of my mouth before I could stop them. I know that giving this monster the opportunity to be closer to me is a bad idea, but my only alternative is to tell Ben the truth. I know neither of us is ready for that.

"Listen, we're on our way out. I'll text you the information," Ben answers.

"Okay. I'm sorry for interrupting your night, but if you can send that over,
mijo
, I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Ari."

Without another word, I flee into my room and slam the door. I can’t believe I just did that. What the hell was I thinking? The sound of the door opening comes from behind me. Ben’s footsteps get closer, and I tell myself to calm down before opening my mouth.

“What was that about?”

“I just don’t like being put on the spot,” I snap.
So much for keeping calm.

“What was I supposed to do?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe tell him that you needed to talk to me first and you’d call him back.”

“Why are we fighting about this? Your office does this type of work, right?”

“You’re missing the point,” I say walking away frustrated. “And we don’t have the time for me to explain it to you.”

“Hey.” He places a hand on my arm and stops me from opening and closing my dresser drawers like a crazy person. I’m so pissed I can’t even remember what I was looking for. “I’m sorry, okay. You’re right. I should have asked you first,” he says.

I turn to face him, and he pulls me into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Okay, we’re gonna be late. Let’s just get ready to go.”

We're ready and in the car fifteen minutes later. I hate that he thinks I’ve overreacted, and now that I’ve calmed, I can see why. If the situation were reversed, I might have thought the same thing. The tension in the car is palpable, and it’s up to me to squash it.

“I’m sorry I snapped. I don’t want to fight, will you forgive me?” I ask.

He laces our fingers together.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

The parking on Vonne's narrow street is a nightmare. We pass her house three times before settling on a spot around the corner. Gift bag in hand, we make the three-block trek to her house, which is, of course, covered in hot pink balloons.

We follow the smell of barbecue and the sound of laughter to the side entrance. I only make it a few steps into the yard before I'm tackle hugged by Vonne.

"You guys made it!" she announces happily.

"Of course, we made it, you loon. I told you we were coming. Are you drunk?" Eli walks up and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Not yet, but she's on her way. What's up, bro?" he says, giving Ben that half hug slap on the back thing that guys do. "Hi, Ari."

"You guys catch up. I'm taking my friend to get a drink," Vonne slurs out while dragging me to the other side of the yard. I look over my shoulder at Ben, who is laughing at me, and mouth, "Help." He laughs and walks away with Eli.

We disappear into the house where I make my rounds greeting her family. It feels like an hour before we settle in the kitchen. Her head is buried in the refrigerator, and a few seconds later, she pulls out a pitcher of my favorite drink. My eyes light up and she laughs.

"I needed a partner in crime tonight, and I knew you wouldn't drink with me unless I stocked your fav. Don't worry, I followed your recipe," she reassures.

"So are you going to tell me why you’re well on your way to being toasted an hour into your party?" She ignores my question, and instead, concentrates on pouring the red wine mixture into a glass of ice. I watch as she adds extra fruit to the top, just the way I like it. She hands it over, and I narrow my eyes at it.

"Taste it. It's good,” she says cheerily.

"Not till you answer my question."

She throws her head back and groans. "I'm gonna end things with Eli."

Aye Dios, not this again.
I take a long sip of my sangria before giving her the reaction she's expecting.
It actually is really good.

"Well?" she says frustrated by my lack of response.

"Well, what? You want me to talk you out of breaking off something that hasn't even had a chance to start. Go ahead, break it off with him." I take another sip and watch as she stares at me speechless. I'm using my one day of therapy to reverse psychology her stupid ass into reconsidering. I toss back the last of my sangria and shake my now empty cup in front of her face for a refill.

"That's it?" she asks, snatching the cup from my hand and refilling it. She slams it down in front of me, and I could see the lawyer in her wanting to challenge me.

"That's it," I say flatly.

"He's too good to be true, Ari." I'm not sure who she's trying to convince—herself or me. "Do you know he bought me a Michael Kors watch for my graduation present?" My eyes widen as she shows off the rose gold beauty currently adorning her left wrist.

"Wow," I say taking another sip of my drink.

"Yeah, who does that? We've only been officially ‘dating’ for like a week," she says throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"So let me get this straight. You're breaking things off with him because he bought you a nice gift." The girl is not making any damn sense.

"Yes . . . No . . . I don't fucking know. He said I mentioned liking it on someone at Ben's dinner the other night. I don't even remember saying anything about a watch." She pours herself a shot of Patrón. This conversation is headed nowhere fast if I don't get to the root of her issue. She's got a full bottle, and she's not afraid to use it.

"Okay . . . slow down," I say ripping the third shot from her greedy little hands. I toss it back before she could wrestle it back from me. My eyes water as the clear liquid begins to sting the back of my throat. With the bottle of tequila now secured behind my back, she begins to pace the length of the kitchen in a rambling tirade.

"I'm going to fuck this up. I don't know how to be someone's girlfriend, and now, I have to move. He's going to be on the other side of the country, and I'm gonna miss him. I'll be all alone two hours away from everybody. What if I slip and hook up with some random while I'm out there? I'm not good enough for him. He's already had his heart broken, and I know me. I'll end up breaking it again. Have you seen him? He deserves better. Why does he even like me? Oh, God. What if I fall for him, and he breaks my heart? What if I do everything right, and he meets some hot New York publishing bitch, and he leaves me for her and they get married and have hot little early reading babies?"

"Whoa . . . whoa slow down, girl. Breathe," I say with a laugh. I step toward her and grip her shoulders; she stops pacing and meets my gaze. "Breathe," I repeat. She nods releasing a shuddering breath. I take a few deep breaths and wait until she calms down enough to do the same. We're not big huggers, but after this freak-out, she definitely looks like she needs one. I pull her in for a squeeze, and she sighs.

"Feel better?" I ask.

"Sor . . . uf,” she mumbles against my chest.

"You can't live your life fearing the what-ifs. That's not living. We're human, we all make mistakes, and it’s what you learn in the process that makes all the difference. Will you intentionally try to hurt him?"

"No," she mumbles.

"Then stop sabotaging yourself and give yourself a chance to be happy. Does he make you happy?" I ask.

She looks up at me with glossy eyes and nods. "He makes me so happy, Ari. It scares me."
I know the feeling.

"Well, then go clean your happy, Michael Kors watch-wearing, drunk ass up so we can get back to our men."

"Thanks, friend."

She pulls me into a hug and before walking out of the kitchen to clean up, I ask, "What the hell is an early reading baby?"

She laughs. "You know like that one video on Facebook." I shrug, still not knowing what the hell she's talking about.

"There's this viral video of an eighteen-month-old baby who can read. He has all these flashcards spread out on the floor and the dad calls out different words and the baby goes over, picks up the card with his chubby little fingers, and hands the dad the right word every single time."

"Okay, I'll look it up while you clean yourself up. Hurry. I don't want you to miss out on your chance to have your own early reading babies."

After the argument Ari and I had earlier, I’m glad to be able to get my head on straight and catch up with Eli. He graduates in a few days and leaves for New York the day after. I still don't understand why he's going along with this plan. I know this isn't what he really wants to do with his life, but the need to please his father has been instilled in him for so long he doesn't know any other way. I've never asked what he would have chosen for himself if given the chance. Too afraid that putting that seed of doubt in his mind would only make it harder. He's more than a friend, he's my brother, and he knows I'll have his back whenever he needs me.

Vonne's dad and brother come over and join us as we crack open our second round of beers. The girls follow and seem to have a little bit more sway to their step than when they walked in. Ari's cheeks are flushed, and she's wearing a silly grin, letting me know she's buzzed.

"Hi,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist and kissing my cheek.

"Feeling good?" I ask.

She nods and pats my chest. "Yup."

I chuckle and tighten my grip to keep her steady. "Looks like it. So what were you two up to in there?"

"A little of this, a little of that," she says smiling.

She looks happy, and whatever Vonne did to help lighten her mood is okay with me. Even if it means I have to keep her from falling over now.

I look over at Eli, and he seems to be doing the same thing. Vonne's silly grin matches Ari. She's currently swaying on Eli's lap like a drunken marionette, and he's struggling to keep her from falling. He's completely unfazed by his predicament, and I smile. It's been a while since I've seen him this whipped over a girl. If he can't have his choice of career, maybe having the choice in this relationship will be good enough to keep him happy.

We spend a few hours hanging out at Vonne's. We’ve danced and chatted everyone up. Vonne’s family is just as easygoing as she is, and you can tell they adore Ari and treat her as one of their own. Vonne and Ari share a teary good-bye before we leave. They vow to talk every day and to visit each other as much as they can. Eli and I remind them it's only for two months and she'll be down next week to attend Eli's graduation. They passed being buzzed about an hour ago, so the point we're trying to make on these drunkards is moot. They probably won't even remember saying good-bye.

I leave Ari with Eli and Vonne while I pull the car around. Trying to get her to walk back in her condition does not sound like anything I feel like attempting tonight. I pull into the driveway as Eli walks the girls toward my car. The tears have stopped, and they are now walking arm in arm giggling and singing I have no idea what.

"What the hell are they singing?" I ask Eli with a laugh.

"I don't know, dude. One minute, they were crying, and then the next, they were laughing. I thought I heard Vonne mention something about the Jonas Brothers. Now, they're singing some song about bugs," Eli says shrugging.

Even completely inebriated, she can sing.

"You gonna break that up?" he asks as we lean against the car watching the girl’s slow dance. The tears have started again.

"We'll give them a minute." He's right; as I listen closer, they are singing about bugs.

It takes a few minutes before they notice us watching. They giggle and drunkenly walk over. Ari wraps her arms around my neck and sighs contentedly.

"Dance with me," she says with a sigh. She looks so damn adorable, and I can't deny her even though there's no music. She begins singing again, and this time, I realize she's singing about being bit by the lovebug. The few lines that she sings talk about being hopelessly in love with someone. She presses her cheek to my chest as we slowly rock back and forth. After a while, she stops singing and hums out the rest of the song. When her humming slows and her body becomes more lax in my arms, I know it's time to go.