Page 8 of Pause

I take a deep, shaky breath and turn the key in the ignition several times. Over and over.

Nothing.

I bang my hands on the dashboard as though it’s the latest method for repairing a car. Then I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and debate whether I should let myself break down here or wait until I reach the hotel. That is, after a very long humiliating walk in a wedding dress to get to the darned hotel. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse.

“Excuse me, are you okay?”

I look up at Deep Voice, the one that just interrupted my pity party, while wondering if I have a bright red indent on my forehead from the steering wheel. Probably. Today all bad things are not only possible, but probable.

Deep Voice backs up a little when I meet his eyes, I think in horror. Yep. Revulsion is evident before he masks his true feelings.

My life is ridiculous, and I look ridiculous. So what else is new? I’m beyond caring.

“Do you need help?” Deep Voice asks with so much caution, you’d think he just stumbled upon a yellow light.

That’s a loaded question. “My rental died.”

“Are you on the way to your wedding? I can get you there.” He clears his throat. “A few, uh, touch-ups might be needed first, though.”

Such a polite way to let me know I look like I’ve been driving in the wind for two hours.

“No. The wedding already didn’t happen.”

“Excuse me?” he says.

Deep Voice has dark brown eyes, equally dark brown hair, and an olive skin tone, making him look perpetually tan. On a normal day, I would notice and call him handsome. Maybe gorgeous. I might even dare to say dreamy. But today is not that day.

He ignores my odd words. “Where are you staying? I’ll give you a lift.”

Oh. Good question. I’m showing up without a reservation. A tiny detail I spaced. “The Rocky Point Inn. But I don’t have a reservation.”

He shifts from one foot to the other. “They don’t have any vacancies. It’s June, prime summer vacation time. You didn’t make a reservation for your honeymoon?”

“The honeymoon is canceled. The wedding didn’t happen, remember? This wasn’t exactly planned.”

His eyebrows furrow as he studies me with thoughtful eyes. “I see. I’m sorry.”

I don’t say anything, but I’m sure my red-eyed gaze says it all.

He gestures to the building behind him. “We had a cancellation this morning. I can get you a room.”

My eyes wander behind him to a huge Victorian mansion with a sign that reads “Sheridan House, Bed and Breakfast.”

I wanted to disappear, remain anonymous at a large hotel. A bed-and-breakfast is far too intimate. I will be noticed. But do I have a choice? My rental car decided where I’m staying, so this is it. I just want a room to curl up and die in anyway.

“Can I stay for two weeks?” I blurt.

He hesitates for only a moment. “I’ll arrange it for you. Consider it done.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Deep Voice has just made life a lot easier for me.

“Which agency is your rental car from?”

I tell him, and he says, “I’ll give them a call. Tell them to get you a new car.”

“I don’t need a car for my stay. Just tell them to pick it up.” If I see this car ever again, it will be too soon.

“Are you sure?” His concern tugs at my heart.

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