Page 20 of Carly's Heart

“Sorry, this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have barked at you. Can you please help me get them settled?” Quickly, they had all fourteen kids seated and busy eating, or spilling their meals. “Go back upstairs,” Carly advised. “Before she notices that you’re missing. She’s likely to get you fired.”

“I can’t just leave you with all these kids...”

“Go. Now. Before I change my mind.” She herded her helper toward the door, regretting the action even as she did so. Still, she wouldn’t stand by and watch someone get in trouble for trying to help. She was so glad she’d left Layla with Mike instead of bringing her to the wedding. Layla was disappointed but agreed after being promised her own picture of the bride and groom.

Excited shrieking and the shattering sound of breaking dishes exploded around her. Steeling her spine, she turned back toward her charges and started dealing with the disaster. Eventually, everyone was fed, in a fashion, and the mess cleaned up. There was nothing she could do about the gravy and juice stains on their clothing and the carpet.

The band struck up a waltz, someone announced the first dance between the bride and groom. The first dance faded into nothing, and several parents collected their children. The second, the father-bride dance, started and ended. And still, Carly was stuck downstairs with two rambunctious children she was certain belonged to George’s cousins. Her frustration mounted. Enough was enough. She was thirsty, starving, and feeling been put upon, after babysitting, for five hours. She was done. Kaput. Finished with a capital to-hell-with-this.

Grasping the last two children by the hand, she led them upstairs and after confirming who they belonged to returned them to their parents.

“But aren’t you supposed to watch them all night?” their mother asked.

“No, I am a guest at this wedding,” Carly said, struggling for calm.

“Well, you’re certainly not getting a tip. You’re quite the rude upstart.” The woman snapped, gathering her hellions to her as if fearing for their safety.

“Lady, you can take your tip and,” Carly paused. She would not stoop to this woman’s level. “Have a lovely evening. Enjoy the reception.”

Cutting around the edge of the brimming hall, Carly noticed the designer gowns and custom-tailored suits. She hurried past the bar, snagging an open bottle of white wine, and headed into the kitchen. The caterers were busy cleaning up the dishes. “Is there anything left to eat?” she asked a passing waiter.

He looked at her like she was insane. “Not until the midnight luncheon,” he grumbled.

It figured. They hadn’t even saved her anything to eat. Annoyed, no infuriated, she passed through the kitchen and out onto the covered deck surrounding the luxurious facility.

Rain poured down in buckets. It was dumping epically, like Mother Nature had opened the heavens and was pouring down tears for every hurt she’d ever experienced. Carly sighed deeply. No solace in the peace and quiet of the picnic area just across the greenspace. She’d be a drowned rat before she could get there in this monsoon.

She wanted to go home. This night couldn’t end quickly enough, but she wanted to see her best friend dance with her new husband. She wanted to share Tanya’s joy. She’d go back inside after she bled off some anger.

Kicking off her shoes, she scooped them up and stomped to the end of the covered deck and around the corner in search of a chair. She circled the entire building.

Nothing. You’d think a country club would have deck chairs. But nope, at least not this fancy, schmanzy one.

“Great. Just freaking great.” She flopped backwards and slid down the wall into a heap on the floor. She guzzled wine straight from the bottle, her expensive, sparkling silver heels abandoned beside her like a ninety-nine cent pair of flipflops. She thumped the back of her head against the wall. What a disaster this day was turning out to be. As days went, it was the worst in a long time. As weddings went, it set a new low; one she’d never have thought attainable.

“Crap.” She guzzled more wine. “I should have grabbed two bottles.” She glanced down at the expensive label. Yup. At least two, maybe three. Preferably unopened. She couldn’t afford wine this expensive. Ever. She should have stolen a couple to make up for the torture she’d endured as babysitter.

“As if,” she snorted at her own silliness. She’d never steal anything from anyone. Well, except this bottle and that didn’t count because she was a guest, even if she was unappreciated. Still, she felt guilty about taking it.

Footsteps sounded on the deck. Unmistakably cowboy boots. She knew that gait without looking. She’d been listening to it for six years. Her body sprang to life.

Great. Just what she needed to top it all off. Birch. Probably coming to find out why she wasn’t enjoying the festivities, and to drag her back into hell. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d just pass by. She closed her eyes and willed him away, wishing her foolish heart didn’t want to drink in every ounce of his perfection. He stopped right in front of her. Yup, the day just continued to slide downhill like an avalanche of horse manure. Already mired in hurt feelings, her heart didn’t need to deal with the man who treated her like an annoying sibling.

“Carly, open your eyes,” he said softly. “I’m not going away.”

She peeked one eye open. He hunkered down in front of her on one knee, resplendent and masculine in his tuxedo and white Stetson. He held out an enormous salad. The combination might just be the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. A sexy man with food!

Tears brimmed in her eyes. Dammit. She wouldn’t cry just because he’d brought her something to eat.

“Are you drunk?” he asked quietly.

She glanced at the half empty wine bottle. Okay, maybe she was drunk. Apparently, wine hits hard when you guzzle it on an empty stomach. She hiccupped.

She stared at the deck and shook her head. If she started talking, she’d lose it and start crying. She bit her lip and clenched her hands to hold herself in check.

“Come on, Carly, put down the wine and have a bite or two to eat. The kitchen staff told me you asked for food. Did you miss the meal?”

He reached out and extracted the wine from her grip and replaced it with the plate of salad and chopped chicken. A tasty looking dinner roll topped the pile. He produced a napkin and silverware from his pocket and handed her those before sitting down beside her.

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