Page 52 of Heart So Hollow

Jay glances up at her with a smile when he recognizes her, “Out of town,” he replies, “at another wedding. Something about how the best man is required to show up…”

“Ah,” the woman nods in acknowledgement. She scans the table and then does a doubletake when she sees me, “I don’t think I know you, I’m Cheree Schwartz, I’m the records specialist at the station.”

“And, basically, everything else...” Jay adds.

“Basically,” Cheree gives a half shrug in agreement.

“This is Brett Sorensen, Bo’s girlfriend,” he introduces me.

“Nice to meet you!” she exclaims, and then turns over her shoulder to the other woman standing next to her, “This is Sydney, she just started with us.”

I’ve been listening to Cheree, but I haven’t been able to take my eyes off Sydney. She sticks out like a sore thumb in this crowd, looking more stunning in her black backless jumpsuit and delicate gold jewelry than the bride in her pearl-encrusted lace gown. She has long, icy blonde hair, fair skin, and greyish blue eyes that seem to pull the corners of her coral lips into a warm smile.

She steps around the table and extends her hand to me, “Sydney Van Doren,” she squeezes my hand firmly with an intoxicating grin, “I do public relations, press releases, social media, all that.”

It makes total sense, because Sydney looks like a primetime news anchor, with her perfectly styled hair, tailored outfit, and immaculate makeup that makes her eyes glimmer and her smile pop.

As Cheree goes on about Sydney, singing her praises, I suddenly notice the bizarre exchange occurring around the table. Hildy’s demeanor changes on a dime, and where before she looked embarrassed and annoyed with Hannah’s lack of couth, now she’s glaring at Sydney with utter disdain. She glances at Hannah across the table, who’s chewing the inside of her cheek while her eyes dart between Hildy and Sydney. When I look at Bowen, he’s watching Jay intently, trying to keep a straight face while one side of his mouth threatens a smile.

And then there’s Jay, who’s been transfixed on Sydney since she arrived at the table. I don’t think he’s blinked once since she introduced herself to me. To say she’s very attractive is an understatement, so it’s not surprising that she draws such attention. But this seems…different. While Cheree speaks to Bowen, Sydney notices Jay ogling her and locks eyes with him, casting him a smile that’s slightly more than just polite. When she does, he bites his lip and turns back to the table. But that’s not the end of it.

Hildy, having witnessed the brief exchange, maintains her death stare at Sydney. But when Sydney notices, she doesn’t demure. Instead, she’s unabashedly indifferent. Doubling down, Sydney holds Hildy’s eyes and, without even moving her mouth, casts her a fiery expression that nearly makes my jaw drop before she casually looks away. When Jay makes the fatal mistake of acknowledging Hildy, whose gaze could rival Medusa’s, he immediately glances elsewhere and she turns away with a huff.

I don’t know why, but I find the entire exchange exhilarating. Maybe it’s because I’m still new, semi-anonymous to many of these people. I play no part in their personal dramas that inadvertently spill out onto the reception table after a few drinks. They don’t know me, and I don’t know them, so for now it’s like watching a live episode of some dumpster fire show on Bravo TV that I’ll text Barrett about later.

Except I secretly hope there will be another episode later on…

Later, after the cake cutting and first dances, I don’t bother bringing it up while Hildy and I wait at the far end of the country club’s front porch for Bowen and Jay to return from the parking lot. I can see them from our vantage point, standing at Hildy’s SUV, loading her tote bags jammed with all her pre-wedding clothes, makeup, and tangled cords of hair dryers and curling irons.

Eventually, Bowen starts back across the parking lot as Jay continues rearranging the contents of the cargo area. He leaps up the front steps and stops near the front door. In the lamplight, I spy Hannah leaning against the white railing, a cigarette pinched between her fingers. Hildy and I are too far away to hear what they’re saying, but Hannah lifts her arm and offers Bowen the cigarette, to which he shakes his head no.

“I’m so glad Bo quit a few years ago,” Hildy sighs.

“Huh?” I tilt my head toward her.

“In high school, he smoked like a chimney.”

I screw up my face, “For real?”

I’m glad he did, too. That’s fucking disgusting.

Hannah pushes herself away from the railing and takes a step toward Bowen. She stands on her toes, leaning closer to say something in his ear. I see his jaw move in response, but he’s facing away from us now.

Hildy peers into the window reflection and wipes away the smudged eyeliner under her eyes, “I think he handles stress better than he used to.”

“How did he used to handle it?”

“Fighting,” Hildy grins at me, “total Thunderdome.”

“What?” I scoff at her in disbelief.

Bowen is tall and muscular, but I can’t envision him getting into a physical altercation with anyone. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t smash things, he barely ever gets angry.

Hildy furrows her brow and nods, “Oh yeah, he got in trouble all the time—fighting, sneaking into bars, generally being everywhere he wasn’t supposed to. He and Jay were big into street racing, too,” she sniggers, “every year in high school, they threatened to kick Bo off the soccer team.”

“What changed?” I ask, peering at Bowen’s silhouette, trying to imagine him doing any of these things.

“I don’t know,” she chirps, “maybe getting a real job and growing up? Now,” Hildy continues, “if he has a problem, he just chain smokes for an hour, figures it out, and then he’s fine.”

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