As my fingers graze Trevor’s toothbrush, I decide that no matter what happened last night, I don’t know him well enough to share oral hygiene utensils. Instead, I squeeze a dollop of toothpaste on my finger and make quick work of removing the tiny fuzzy sweaters that someone knit during the night and currently fit tightly around each tooth.
Don’t let anyone fool you. Fireball is not your friend.
After another minute or two, I decide that just maybe I’ll be able to pull off this maid-of-honor show. It’s then that I notice my phone on the counter. It’s turned off, and I pray it has some battery remaining. The charger is hopefully back in my room.
After a few seconds of pushing the power button, with a chime the screen comes to life. I swipe it and am met with multiple indicators of voicemails and text messages. Looking first at the text messages, I see that they’re all from Kimbra. The first one asks if I made it to my room safely, followed by separate question marks, followed by the next one.
“TELL ME YOU’RE WITH SOME HANDSOME MAN, OR I’M COMING TO FIND YOU.”
Next: “SHANA! I NEED MY BEAUTY SLEEP. GIVE ME A THUMBS UP—ANYTHING.”
Text number six: “THE HOTEL WON’T TELL ME SHIT. GRANDMA HELEN CALLED, AND ALL THEY TOLD HER WAS THAT YOU WERE CHECKED IN. WE KNOW THAT. AT LEAST IT WAS MORE INFO. I THINK SHE SCARED THEM. LOL.”
Lastly: “I’M STILL WORRIED. CALL ME BACK, OR GRANDMA AND I ARE COMING TO LOOK FOR YOU. IT’S NOT A SLUMBER PARTY YOU WANT.”
I check the current time—7:40 in the morning. Since it’s not even eight, and Kimbra was texting until after midnight, I decide to text back instead of calling.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. “SORRY I DIDN’T CALL OR TEXT. I WAS BUSY MAKING OUT WITH YOUR FUTURE BROTHER-IN-LAW.” ...Backspace and erase…
Starting over: “DO YOU REMEMBER THAT TIME IN NEW YORK WITH THE FIREBALL? YEAH, NEITHER DO I. I ALSO DON’T REMEMBER LAST NIGHT IN INDIANAPOLIS.” (Smiley face emoji)
I contemplate hitting send.
Backspace…erase...one more try...
“HEY, BABE. SORRY. I CRASHED LAST NIGHT WITH MY RINGER OFF. I’M ALIVE AND WELL. CAN’T WAIT FOR THE WEDDING. THE YOU, ME, AND GRANDMA HELEN SLUMBER PARTY WILL HAVE TO WAIT FOR ANOTHER TIME. YOU KNOW I LOVE YOUR GRANDMA! LET’S GET TODAY’S PARTY STARTED. YOU’RE GOING TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRIDE.”
Seconds after hitting send, my phone chirps: KIMBRA flashes on the screen.
“BITCH. YOU HAD ME SCARED TO DEATH. GRANDMA AND I WERE GOING TO DRIVE BACK TO THE CITY, BUT SHE WAS WINNING AT POKER AND KEPT SAYING ONE MORE HAND. (Laughing emoji) DUNCAN EVEN TEXTED HIS BROTHER, ASKING IF HE’D SEEN YOU. HIS BROTHER IS STAYING AT THE SAME HOTEL. INTRODUCE YOURSELF IF YOU SEE HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE DUNCAN, BUT NOT AS SEXY, WITH LIGHTER HAIR AND WELL, NEVERMIND. YOU’LL MEET HIM AT THE WEDDING. DON’T FORGET HAIR AND MAKEUP AT NOON. SEE YOU THEN. LOVE YOU.”
I shake my head. Only Kimbra would start her text by calling me a bitch and end it with “love you.” I think for a second about her description of Trevor. I could call her and tell her that she’s completely wrong about him, but that would give away my uncomfortable situation. Maybe before giving anything away, I should learn more about last night.
“Shana?” Trevor’s voice calls from the other side of the door.
“Yes?”
“The bellhop is here. He needs to see you.”
“See me?”
His voice becomes softer, more of a stage whisper. “Apparently, he thinks I’m trying to get a key to your room for nefarious reasons. He will only give it to you.”
“A key...”
The clue is a figurative light bulb to my lost memories.
Last night I couldn’t find my key. My heart beats faster. It was more than just my key. It was my purse that I also couldn’t find. I’d lost it. Oh God. My purse has my ID and my room key. They wouldn’t give me one without the other. No ID, no key. No key and I can’t get into my room. In my room is my passport. Without that, I can’t get back to London.
My hands begin to shake as I search the bathroom for something to wear. I can’t go to the door and speak to the bellhop wearing only Trevor’s shirt and my panties. Just then, another soft knock taps on the bathroom door. The door opens a crack, and Trevor’s hand comes into view, holding a soft white hotel robe.
“Thanks,” I say with a grin.
The too-big robe swallows me as I cinch the tie around my waist. Doing my best to smooth my messy blonde hair, I take a deep breath and enter the suite. Standing just inside the room next to Trevor is an older man. He’s shorter than Trevor and dressed in a hotel uniform; however, my eyes go to Trevor, who is now also wearing a T-shirt along with those sexy basketball shorts. I almost pout, missing the defined abs.
And then, my attention is diverted by an appetizing aroma. Saliva returns to my mouth as I notice on the table in front of the sofa a tray that holds a carafe of what I assume is the coffee Trevor promised, as well as two dishes covered with silver lids. Suddenly and loudly, my stomach rumbles in anticipation at the promise of food.
“Ms. Price?” the older man asks, his voice bringing back my panic over my purse.
“Yes. I’m Shana Price.”
“Ma’am, I apologize for the mix-up last night. The employee is new; however, it’s our policy to not dispense keys without identification.”
I nod, remembering bits of the conversation. “The thing was that I misplaced my purse, with my ID. I lost both.”
His eyes twinkle as he reaches inside the cloth bag I hadn’t realized he was holding. “If you can give me the information on this driver’s license, I believe that I can return your handbag, ID, and room key.”
“Oh!” I reply, relieved to be able to get back into my room, my passport, and to the dress hanging on the curtain rod. After rattling off all of my information, the bellhop hands me the entire cloth bag. Peering inside, I let out a long breath, the mint of Trevor’s toothpaste tickling my nose. Inside the bag is everything the bellhop promised. Opening my purse, I find all my cash, my credit cards, and my ID. Nothing is missing.
Handing him a tip, I say, “Thank you so much. Did someone turn this in?”
“One of our custodial employees found it last night after hours by the fire pit outside the piano bar.”
My cheeks warm as pink undoubtedly rises to the surface, and I turn a bashful gaze toward Trevor.
The fire pit.
It’s all coming back.
Chapter Three
Ten hours earlier
Shana
“Come stay out at the farm with me,” Kimbra says as the limousine we all rode in from the rehearsal dinner stops in front of my hotel.
“I’m all checked in to the hotel. Really…” I give her a kiss on the cheek. “…sweetie, I’m exhausted. I will be a better maid of honor tomorrow if I sleep well tonight.”
“Oh!” her grandma Helen says, the funniest little old lady who always seems to have more energy than I can muster. “We’re not sleeping right away out at Judy and Oscar’s. Nope! This is my first time in a limousine and I’m feeling lucky.” She elbows my side and gives me a not-so-subtle wink. “Not that kind of lucky.” She shakes her head. “The kind of lucky that will make me as rich as Kimberly Ann’s man. I’m so confident, I’ll spot you five dollars, and we’ll all play poker. Five-card stud. Texas Hold ‘em.” She pouts her lips. “I’d win more if we could get Duncan to stay with us. Silly traditions. It’s not like the man hasn’t seen every part of you, Kimberly Ann. Tasted the milk, if you know what I mean.” She grins at me. “I don’t see anything wrong with that. I mean, as long as you both like the milk.