Page 95 of The Wondrous Life and Loves of Nella Carter
The rungs were wet.
He slid down too fast.
He overcorrected, flailing backward on the ladder.
But none of that helped my guilt as I watched them cart him away, hands immobilized, neck braced, bundled into an ambulance, the sound of Isabella’s wails mixing with sirens as it pulled out into the street.
Thirty-Two
You don’t have to help me with this. I can manage. The cast is coming off tomorrow.” Diego was at my side, hovering in Isabella’s chair, rolled up next to his at his desk.
“Yes, but you still have it on today. I have time.” I typed the information into the database and squinted at the screen. “You have to get these people to Puerto Vallarta, Mumbai, and Johannesburg in just three weeks?”
He shrugged. “International weddings for a multicultural couple. They’ve got the money.”
With him having one arm in a sling and the other in a cast, it was hard to watch him do his work one key at a time. Even though it wasn’t technically my fault, I needed to do something. I helped him complete details for several clients until near closing time.
“I’m more surprised about you. Over forty countries? Are you for real?”
He’d been pestering me about where I’d been, and I’d given him a number.
“It’s no big deal. I save my money. I travel the world. I’m still working here.”
“Nope. Either you’re a military brat, or your parents were hippies. Which one? Ooh! Maybe you’re a secret billionaire or a spy, fleeing a life of crime.” He had the wildest imagination. And he wasn’t far off.
“Wrong on both counts,” I said, keying in the entry. “I’m an ... orphan, of sorts. No wealthy parents here.”
“But then, howdidyou travel so much?”
There was no way I could even begin to tell him the truth, nor did I need to.
I shrugged. “I started early.”
Like in the 1700s,I thought.
“Anyway,” I said, focusing on the screen again, “I still think planning three different ceremonies for one marriage is crazy.”
Diego chuckled. “People do crazy things for love.” The silence lingered after his statement. He must have realized, because he coughed. “But seriously, Carmella, you don’t have to help me. I got this.”
“I know, but we’re almost done. Didn’t Juan and Isabella tell you to accept the help?”
The shock of Diego’s accident had forced Isabella to see that life was too short for unrequited love, and she’d ambushed Juan at Diego’s bedside with her confession. It was good to see them happy, but they were perhaps a littletooenthusiastic about their love in ourveryopen office.
Juan had shown up every day since, covered in cat hair and with a lovesick grin, caring not one whit how many office supplies everyone stole. They had left together over an hour ago in a tangle of limbs.
Diego leveled me with a look. “You’re only doing this because you feel guilty.”
“Can’t two things be true at once? Now, where’s this next account need to go?”
After another thirty minutes, his email inbox was clean, and a neat stack of envelopes with printed tickets to mail sat on his desk.
I flopped back into my chair and stretched. Everyone else was gone, the muted TV still casting shadows on the wall. After twelve hours of work and an aching back, I’d had a productive day. Diego kept up a steady stream of conversation as we powered through the list. He had a story for every one of his clients: Dorcas from Córdoba, who packedher mother’s urn everywhere she went, including car washes and hair appointments; Rafael, who only wore his father’s suit jackets every day, even though they were three sizes too big; Alejandro, who was slowly going bald from eating his hair. My sides ached by the time I entered the information for the final travel package.
“I’ll admit I wouldn’t have been able to get this done without you. I really appreciate it.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d appreciate having your hands back more.” He had been a sight at the hospital with a broken left wrist and a fractured right from where he’d tried to break his fall, a face full of bruises, and one lost canine tooth.
“While that’s true, I have enjoyed this time getting to know you. You’re usually so—”
