Page 19 of Shy Girl
“M-make it?”
“Yeah. I could find time but I haven’t.” I shrugged again. “Don’t know why.”
She nodded and licked her lips, seeming lost in thought. Just when I thought I’d lost her, when I was certain she’d smile in her kind, quiet way and thank me for the flattery but it wasn’t her thing, she asked one more question.
The one thing I’d saved as the ace card.
“W-w-where is it?”
“Grady happens to be marrying the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Texas. They are having the wedding on an island somewhere in the Caribbean.”
Her eyes widened. She paled.
“The w-wealthiest m-man?”
“Dunkin is his last name, I think.”
“S-seriously?” She reached over to touch the wall, as if thrown off equilibrium and about to drop. I studied her for a moment. Did she have a thing against rich people? Was it her stutter or something?
“Yeah,” I drawled. “I’ll pay for the flight, of course. You won’t have to pay anything. You’ll get a free trip to a beautiful Caribbean island, but you’ll be there with me as the only person that you know. Grady and Helene have mostly invited close family. The whole wedding guest list is something like a hundred people.”
She’d gone oddly still for several seconds, then slowly sat down, her expression pale. Her lips wordlessly formed a question, but no sound came out. The hair on the back of my neck stood up in alarm. Something wasn’t right.
“You okay?” I asked.
She waved me off when I took a step toward her, then stopped. Her lips pressed together until they blanched.
“Dagny?”
“F-f-f-fine,” she whispered. “J-j-just . . .”
She trailed away. Her unseeing gaze stared right at her phone, which lay on the ground in front of her, as if it were about to swallow her.
“Are you sure? Can I get you something?”
She shook her head, neck taut. “N-n-no. Thank you. C-c-can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
I stepped away to give her space and the scrape of wood against the back of my thigh reminded me why I was there. The pallets. This whole weird night was only supposed to be me dropping a few pallets off at her place, not leaving my messy problems onto her lap to help me solve.
“Let me get the rest of your pallets,” I said, and she relaxed.
Space, I realized. She just needed some space. Without looking back, I headed back down the spiral staircase, my thoughts a whir. Just to give her the time she needed, I didn’t hurry. When I returned, she stood at her sink near a half empty glass of water. Both thumbs busily typed away on her phone. Although dying to know who she texted, and what the odd reaction was about, I forced myself to turn around and leave, again.
When I brought the last pallet up the stairs, Dagny turned to face me again. Whoever she spoke to had clearly helped, because she had her head tilted up and an expression of determination now. Any shock or hesitancy had been wiped away.
“You good?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say.
Dagny nodded and a small smile made its way through. “Yeah, th-thanks. I-I-I’ll go.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded again.
Until the relief flooded through me, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d been hoping for her to bail me out of a situation that became progressively worse with every passing day. Not only that, but Iknewthe guys would love her.
“I . . . I’m n-n-nervous that your f-friends will . . . w-w-well, it’ll be fine.” She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth with a sideways shrug, as if to say,what can I do?I resisted the urge to put a hand on her shoulder.
