Hold My Breath(48)

“Maybe,” I say, happy that the server returns quickly with my water. I twist the cap and guzzle nearly half of it down, relieved to have something to busy myself with.

“The Cumberlands were thinking, Will…since you wear their suits and all, maybe there’s an opportunity for some sit-downs, a few interviews, nothing too big…” Curtis’s words trail off while he waits for my reaction. Everyone at this table is watching me drink from a water bottle, and I do my best to smile with my eyes.

“Maybe,” I say.

By the way Curtis’s face falters, I can tell that maybe was not what he was hoping for. He should feel lucky, though. My instinct was an immediate no thanks.

“Great, we’ll work on some details, run them by you,” Curtis says, suddenly attracted to someone on the other side of the room. “We’ll catch up with you later. Gentlemen, I went to the Olympics with this guy over here. Come with me so I can introduce you.”

They all leave, and I rest my elbows on the table, glad to be alone. Maddy walks up, taking my water from my hands and finishing it herself.

“I hate wine,” she shrugs.

I breathe out a laugh.

The room grows busy with shaking hands and ass kissing, and my jacket feels more and more snug.

“You wanna go sit outside with me for a bit? Escape a little?” I tilt my head toward the patio door.

“God, do I,” Maddy smiles.

I follow her through the crowd, and she grabs two more water bottles from the bar set up in the corner on our way outside. She slides the glass door shut behind us when we slip out, and I pull two of the patio chairs into a corner, out of the view of the guests inside. Before I sit down, I slip off my jacket and drape it over the back, flexing my fingers and wishing like hell I could pop these cufflinks off, too.

Maddy’s knee grazes against mine when she sits, and instinctually, I lean closer. Her fingers trail along my wrist, and my hands open, finally relaxing as she pinches the plain silver link on my left cuff.

“Your dad’s?” Her question isn’t really a question.

“Yeah. Duncan gave them to me this morning. He fixed this up for me, too,” I say, laying my other wrist on my knee to show her the watch.

“I figured that was his. It looks like him,” she smiles.

She’s right. It does.

I reach forward and sweep her hair behind her ear, her eyes glancing to me as her lip quirks up on one side. I slide my finger down to the tip of her nose, then brush my knuckle against her mouth.

“You look beautiful,” I say.

Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, her cheeks round and red.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice raspy.

Her eyes hit mine, and we stare at each other without breathing for a while, but I can’t hold up my fa?ade for longer than a few seconds. I feel my muscles in my face give, my eyes slanting and mouth falling back to that straight line of dread.

I need to tell her about my trip. I need to tell her something.

I swallow hard, and her eyes flinch just a little. She’s expecting bad news, which if I shared it all, it would be devastating. I smile and shake my head, needing to fix her frown.

“No, it’s nothing…nothing bad, anyway, just…I have to go on a trip. I leave early Thursday. And…I’m going to miss more time, so your dad…” I stop there.

Her mouth twists as she realizes my predicament. Missing time will not work in my favor here. Curtis might be inclined to cut me loose.

“My dad loves you,” she says.

I give her a wry smile.

“Really, Will…he does,” she adds.

I laugh lightly and lean back into the chair, folding my hands behind my neck, cracking my knuckles before shrugging and letting my arms fall to my side.

“Maybe, but this is my second miss. And we have a practice meet next week. I’m already a gamble, Maddy. He’s gonna want to cut me,” I say.

“Then don’t miss,” she answers fast.

I open my mouth, the words almost coming out before my brain acts as defense, but I pause with my lips parted, the truth right there, on the tip of my tongue.

I close my mouth tight and shake my head, then look down at my hands, folded in my lap, thumbs rubbing my skin.

“It’s not something I can miss,” I say, glancing sideways at her. Her face still looks the same—confused, worried…maybe hurt.

“More paperwork?” The word is rancid when it leaves her mouth. I don’t respond, instead just staring back at her with nothing but apology behind my eyes.

“I have to help a friend,” I say, needing to give her something, some version of the truth. I can’t have her looking at me like I’m a failure, or like my secrets have anything to do with my DUI, or the bad habits I’ve avoided now for months.

“Is this friend…someone I know?” She cocks her head, her eyelids falling.

I shake my head and look back at my hands. I need to give her more. Not all, but more.

“It’s a close friend, someone I know from State. It’s for her kid. He’s severely disabled, and he’s having these seizures, and…and they don’t have any family here, none anywhere, really, that can help. They have a consultation in Cleveland, and I…have to make sure they make that appointment,” I say, looking up to meet her eyes as I say those final words.