Page 23 of Stuck With the Best Man

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it when I came across the strange old woman at the bottom of the cliffs.

Not that I believe in witches. Or magic. Or wise women with the gift of prophecy. I appreciate the arts, but not tothatextreme.

Still, there’s something undeniably mystical about this house. Does Ruby actually live here? Or is this her idea of a prank? Is someone going to leap out of the bushes and promise me three wishes in exchange for my firstborn?

Before I can question any further, the door of the screened porch groans open, and a familiar head of thick blonde hair emerges into the dull gray light of the day.

Ruby takes one look at me and frowns, but starts dragging her suitcase toward the car without hesitation. She must have been desperate indeed to agree to this. Then again, I’m not surprised. The second Olenka texted me and said that Ruby needed to get back to the city as soon as possible, I jumped at the chance. Maybe a few hours alone with her in a car, where she can’t walk away or physically fight me, might be exactly what I need to convince her that I’m not the useless idiot she seems to think I am.

Which is apparently very important to me.

Behind Ruby, I notice a willowy woman with long silver hair standing just beyond the coverage of the screens. Does Ruby live here? She said she was from Mermaid Shores, but she didn’t mention anything about growing up with a spooky mystical being.

I meet Ruby halfway, reaching for the handle of the suitcase so that I can carry it the rest of the way to the car. She shoots me a glare, but lets me do the chivalrous thing.

“Seriously?” she mutters as she approaches the car. “You drive a Porsche?”

I haul the suitcase into the trunk. It seems like we’re starting with the verbal combat right away.

“Should I not?” I reply. “Anyway, I don’t think you can really judge the nature of your chariot at the moment, Ruby, considering I’m your only ticket out of this place.”

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly opens the passenger side door. It’s hard not to smile to myself as I shut the trunk and come around to open my door. Doesn’t she know how cute she looks when she pouts?

Anyway, it’s a Porsche Cayenne, the totally respectable SUV model. It’s not like I’m zipping around in a gaudy little sports car.

“Why are you even still here?” Ruby asks. She’s sitting ramrod straight in the passenger seat, hands curled into fists like she’s ready to fight her way out of here.

I haven’t even started the engine yet.

I shrug. “Should I not be?”

“The wedding was two days ago.”

“And I’m not allowed to stick around in a charming beach town for a little while longer?”

“I thought you didn’t like small towns.”

I snort and finally start the engine. A prickling sensation on the back of my neck tells me that the silver-haired woman is still watching us, but I pretend not to notice.

“You caught me,” I tell her. “It’s just that I slept in late the morning after the wedding, didn’t realize most people were leaving, and by the time I noticed that I was basically the only one left in town, the storm had started.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry. The highway looks like it’s been cleared, and even though there’s another storm front coming through tonight, I think we’ll make it back to the city before it hits.”

“Good.”

And that’s that.

I back out of the driveway carefully. For some reason, it’s important to me that Ruby thinks I’m a responsible driver. I want her to know that I’m a good person. Her opinion shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. Maybe it’s because I’m used to people liking me and have hardly ever struggled to win favor, unless it’s with my father. Maybe it’s just that she’s beautiful, feisty, and insanely talented… and I like it. I like her.

I shouldn’t be attracted to a woman who hates my guts, but alas. Here we are.

We run into a few difficulties getting out of town. One of the residential streets has been blocked off by a massive fallen tree, so we take a detour that brings us onto narrow coastal roads lined with million-dollar mansions. Ruby has to give me verbal instructions on how to navigate toward the highway, with each word clipped and quiet as if it physically pains her to speak to me.

As soon as we hit the main road that will take us off the Cape, Ruby falls quiet. The highway itself is a veritable disaster zone. We pass a few trucks with flashing yellow lights dutifully trying to pick everything up, but I still have to drive slower than the speed limit to avoid branches and other debris.

Ruby is silent as I navigate the roads. When I sneak a few glances at her, I see that she’s glaring out of the passenger side window, with most of her face angled away from me. The sky is gray and the weather is bleak, and yet I swear her hair is gleaming like sunshine despite it.

---