by Amy Vastine
It was good advice, similar to what Becca had told him. They were right. The only love worth having was the one that came from something honest and real. All those women who thought he was too nice and didn’t have a fancy enough job didn’t deserve him, and if that included Emma, so be it.
There had been an explosion in one of the Lincoln Park West condo high-rises. Charlie and Serena parked and prepared for what was to come. Multiple engine companies were on the scene. Captain Andrews from 22 and the other captains made a quick evaluation of how the fire should be handled, then directed the firefighters.
Turned out to be a gas leak that had sparked the explosion. Several of the condominiums were affected by the blast. Lieutenant Keller led Alvarez and Jones inside to search and rescue while the rest of the crew got the hoses hooked up and helped put out the fire.
Another smaller explosion went off, sending glass and brick flying. Captain Andrews radioed the lieutenant to make sure everyone was okay.
Residents were pouring out of the building. Serena and Charlie joined the other paramedics and EMTs on the scene, treating victims as needed. Charlie could hear the captain asking if they could get out on their own. He ordered Keller to clear the floor and leave the area until they had a better handle on things. He wanted to be sure there wouldn’t be any more surprises.
Lieutenant Keller came out, but Jones and Alvarez weren’t with him. Charlie had the urge to run in. Sometimes he hated being on the sidelines. He moved toward the building until the captain shouted for him to get back. A few tense minutes passed with no sign of either of the guys from the station. Eventually, Jones emerged from the smoking building, carrying Alvarez.
Jones placed the wounded firefighter on the gurney. Alvarez needed some oxygen as Charlie and Serena tended to his cuts and burns. He had been too close to the second explosion and had been struck by flying debris. Jones had been the one to free him from beneath a burning beam and carry him to safety.
Serena and Charlie loaded him into the ambulance and headed back to the hospital. Angels were everywhere and Alvarez was going to have to come to terms with the fact that Jones was his.
* * *
CHARLIE SLEPT THE MAJORITY of his next day off. The last shift had taken a lot out of him. Between the drama at the station and Emma’s clear preference for Dr. Perfect, there wasn’t any more room in his life for craziness. Thanks to Jones’s big rescue, even the probie was getting more respect than the paramedics.
It was a Saturday, but Charlie had no real desire to go out and be social. His plan was to watch some movies on Netflix and order a pizza, things he could do alone from the comfort of his home. His phone wouldn’t stop ringing, though.
First, it was Kristin. She wanted to know if she could stay with him when they all got to town because her boys and Mandy’s kids wanted to stay together at Charlie’s parents’ house. That meant there wouldn’t be enough beds there, and she was not staying with Mandy. She was very unhappy when Charlie said Becca already had dibs on his couch.
That led to a call from Mandy, begging him to let Kristin stay with him. She offered to let Becca sleep at her house. He didn’t want to make that deal, but said if Becca was cool with it, he’d do whatever it took to keep the peace.
Next up was Becca, wondering why he would give her up to the Brady Bunch. He swore he didn’t want her to stay anywhere but with him, but that there wasn’t enough room for Kristin at their parents’ house and Mandy didn’t want to deal with Kristin any more than anyone else in the family did.
Becca decided to call Mandy and see if she could have all the kids stay at her house, which led to Mandy calling Charlie to hear exactly what Kristin said to him.
“I do not want to be in the middle of this,” he stated firmly.
“Is she really going to hold on to this grudge forever? I threw popcorn at her. I’m pretty sure no one can be seriously injured from being hit by fluffy pieces of popped corn.”
“Can the kids stay with you or what?” Charlie wasn’t going to take sides in this ridiculous fight.
“Fine,” she answered. “They can all crash in the basement.”
Problem solved.
“One last thing. If you love me and your other siblings, apologize to Kristin for abusing her with popcorn and save us all from the torture of you two not getting along.”
She agreed only to think about it. He hung up with Mandy and called Kristin back, letting her know she was safe to stay at their parents’. Then he texted Becca to tell her she was back on his couch.
Feeling confident that he could finally start his movie and not be interrupted, he clicked Play on the remote. He was wrong. His phone rang and without even looking at who it was, he answered and let his frustration show.
“I don’t care who sleeps where or who is mad at who or how popcorn feels when it hits you in the head! I just want to watch my movie in peace. Is that too much to ask?”
“What was that about popcorn?” Emma sounded as caught off guard as he felt.
Charlie smacked himself on the forehead. “Sorry about that. There’s been a little family drama tonight.”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” She sniffled as if she had been crying.
“Are you okay, Nightingale?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice wavering. Clearly, she was not fine at all.
“What’s wrong? I swear I won’t bite your head off.”
Emma unleashed a tidal wave of issues. Apparently, the bridesmaid dresses she wanted to order could not be delivered by the wedding date. The string quartet they’d hired had backed out this morning, claiming they had an unexpected conflict. No one else she called could do anything with only three weeks’ notice. No one at the florist would call her back today and she’d heard a rumor that the bakery they ordered the cake from was possibly going out of business, but again, no one would return her calls.
When all he could hear was soft crying, he tried to talk her down. “Everything is going to work out. Maybe it won’t be exactly the way we planned it, but it will be great. Special K and Groomzilla are going to love it.”
“But nothing is working out like I planned! If I stick to the plan, then it’s all supposed to go off without a hitch! I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Charlie looked at the clock. It was a little after seven-thirty. There was only one thing to do. “Hey, do you have any pretty dresses in that closet of yours?”
“What?” she said through her tears.
“Go put on a dress and be ready for me to pick you up in a half hour to do some research.”
“What are you talking about? Where are we going?”
Charlie was already on his feet and headed to his room to find the shirt and tie he’d worn to the last wedding he attended. “Just be ready in half an hour. We don’t want to miss dessert.”
He hung up before she could argue. So much for his quiet night at home. Emma needed some cheering up and to see what weddings were really about. When he first moved downtown, Becca was still here, as well. On the rare Saturday night when neither one of them had anything to do and money was tight, they would do the only thing a cash-strapped twentysomething could do for a good time that didn’t cost a dime. They crashed weddings.
There were wedding receptions in almost all the fancy hotels in Chicago every Saturday during the summer. It was like a smorgasbord of parties with open bars and great dance music. Charlie and Becca would get dressed up and head out. If they got kicked out of one, there was always another reception at the next hotel.
Usually, they fit right in. The bigger the reception, the better. The rules were to always be vague about how they knew the happy couple and to spend as much time on the dance floor as possible. They never drank too much and only ate from the dessert table.
The point of a wedding recepti
on was to celebrate, and Charlie was always happy to celebrate any two people who had found the love of their lives. It really didn’t matter if he knew them or not. Emma needed to be reminded why they were doing this. She needed to see that at the reception, no one cared what the bridesmaid dresses looked like or how good the cake tasted. It was about sharing in the joy of the day.
Charlie got dressed and called ahead for a cab. When he got to Emma’s, she was waiting/pacing outside. She’d done as he had asked. Dressed up in a sleeveless red dress belted at the waist, she looked like a modern-day Audrey Hepburn. Her bangs were pinned back with a sparkly hairpin and she nervously scratched at the back of her neck. Thanks to the dress hitting just above the knee, her legs looked as if they went on for miles.
He pushed the physical attraction he felt aside. There was no hope for the two of them. This was simply him being her friend. He was taking her out to get her mind off her troubles.
“Is this okay?” she asked, shifting restlessly from foot to foot and biting her bottom lip.
“It’s perfect, Nightingale. Get in,” he said, holding the door open.
She stepped cautiously off the front stoop and climbed into the back of the cab. “You look pretty perfect yourself.”
Charlie tried not to let the compliment go to his head. She was being polite. It didn’t mean anything. “Thanks.”
“Can you tell me why you made me rush to get dressed up to do research for a wedding that is obviously going to be a flop?”
She was being a bit dramatic. He’d had enough of that for the night. “Does your sister love my friend?”
Emma squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was up to. “Of course she does.”
“Well, he loves her, too. Their wedding could never be a flop.”
Emma sighed and let her head fall back against the seat. “You don’t get it.”
“No, Nightingale. You don’t get it, but I’m going to show you. I hope those are dancing shoes.” He nodded at the strappy black heels she had on.
Sitting up straight, she dipped her chin. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to a wedding reception.”
“Whose wedding reception?”
Charlie’s smile was broad and mischievous. “I don’t know. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THIS WAS ILLEGAL, wasn’t it? Crashing a wedding was all kinds of wrong, but Charlie would not listen to any of her protests. He had the cab drop them off at the Marriott on the Mag Mile. Emma tried refusing to get out, but he threatened to carry her in, and he was obviously crazy enough to do it.
“How do you even know there is a wedding reception here tonight?” she asked as he pulled her inside.
He didn’t try to suppress the eye roll. “It’s June. It’s a Saturday. For the past year, there were probably dozens of people trying to book this place on this night. There’s more than one reception here tonight.”
Charlie walked through the contemporary-style lobby as if he knew exactly where he was going. He didn’t even have to stop at the front desk to ask where the ballrooms were located. They bypassed the grand staircase in the center of the lobby and went straight to the elevators.
“Have you done this before?” she asked, thinking he was much too comfortable for this to be his first time.
“A few times with my sister when she used to live in the city. I haven’t done it in years, but this was our favorite hotel.” He pushed the Up button on the wall. “We’ll go to the fourth floor first, and if we don’t like it there, we’ll head up to the Grand Ballroom on the seventh floor.”
He definitely knew what he was doing. Emma didn’t understand how this was going to make her feel better about the disaster her sister’s wedding had become. This was only making her more stressed. Not to mention that these weddings were probably organized by professional planners. They were certainly going to be flawless. She’d feel like a bigger failure than she already did.
Emma had never failed at anything. It made no sense that everything was going wrong now. She had pushed Charlie away. She had a date planned with a doctor. She was following her life plan to a tee. The wedding arrangements had been solid. She had met her deadlines and stuck to all her timetables. Things were supposed to run smoothly. The universe had no reason to rebel like this.
On the elevator, Charlie went over the rules. “First things first, don’t pretend to be someone else. If a guest asks your name, tell them your real name. Fake names never work. If they ask you how you know the bride and groom, simply say you’re a friend. Don’t be specific. Don’t say you’re a college friend or a high school friend or a work friend. You never know who you’re talking to, and that could blow it. Don’t say whose friend you are. You could be friends with the bride or the groom. They don’t need to know. Smile and move on if someone gets too curious.”
“I have to talk to people?” Emma was going to throw up.
“You might. That’s part of the fun of it. Talking to the other guests. I want to see you laugh and have a good time.”
“I don’t think I can do this.” She pressed the button for the lobby. She was getting out of here.
The doors opened to the fourth floor and the sound of music and people talking greeted them. Charlie took her by the hand and dragged her out of the elevator. “Come on. I want you to see something.”
They passed a group of women headed into the ladies’ room. A couple of them let their eyes linger on Charlie, but none of them seemed to notice that Emma and Charlie didn’t belong. Just outside the ballroom, some wedding guests were exiting a portable photo booth. Charlie led Emma over to it.
“Let’s start with this.”
She pulled on his arm. “No!” she whisper-yelled. “The wedding couple gets copies of all these pictures. They’ll wonder why some strangers were in their booth.”
Charlie laughed. “And they’ll think it’s hilarious. Trust me.”
Afraid to cause a scene, she went along with it. Charlie handed her a masquerade mask and a feather boa. Emma took a deep breath and decided there was nothing to do but to give in. What was the worst thing that could happen? They’d be asked to leave and then she’d get in her own cab if Charlie wouldn’t take her home.
She wrapped the purple boa around her neck and held the mask over her eyes. Charlie put on a fedora and sunglasses and held a plastic mustache on a stick under his lip. He looked ridiculous, but at least they were disguised.
They both made funny faces and smiled for the camera. When they came out, Emma realized it was the first time she had smiled all day. The guy in charge of the booth handed her a strip of photos and placed a second copy in an album.
“You can write something to the bride and groom if you want,” he said, holding out a pen.
Charlie took it and wrote, “Love one another. Today, tomorrow, forever.” He signed it “Charlie and The Nightingale.”
“The Nightingale?”
“Well, I can’t exactly call you mine, now, can I?”
Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the word mine. What if she could be his? She fought against that thought. Things were bad enough as they were. The world could burst into flames if she messed with her plans the way her heart was considering.
“You ready to have some fun?” he asked.
She tucked their copy of the pictures in her purse and took his proffered hand. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
They entered the gorgeous ballroom filled with wedding guests. Twenty or so tables were covered in white tablecloths. The chairs were also draped in white, along with big pink ties. In the center of each table was a bouquet of pale pink peonies and hot pink roses covered in a glass dome, surrounded by a circle of a dozen tealights.
Along one wall was a sweets table filled with an assortment of pastries, chocolate-cov
ered strawberries, mousses and fruit tarts. There was also a candy bar, with a variety of candies in different shades of pink. Little Chinese take-out boxes were available for guests to fill and take home with them.
Dinner was clearly over and the dancing had begun. All of the groomsmen were surrounding the bride as she made everyone laugh by dancing the disco. Family and friends were clapping and swaying to the music.
Charlie headed straight for the sweets. He held up a chocolate-dipped strawberry and pressed it to Emma’s lips. Her breathing hitched. It was such an intimate gesture, but she opened her mouth and bit into the delectable confection, anyway. As he pulled it away, strawberry juice dripped down her lip and he swiped it with his thumb.
“So good, right?” He leaned closer so she could hear him over the music.
Too good. Her body temperature rose by a thousand degrees. She nodded and he smiled before grabbing up some more goodies, all of which he tossed into his own mouth.
When they’d both had their fill, he pulled her over to the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”
The music had slowed and couples were wrapping their arms around one another. Emma accepted and put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand in his. Charlie’s other hand slipped around her waist and rested at the small of her back. She tried to slow down her heartbeat and picture herself standing on an icy tundra so he wouldn’t be able to tell how his touch set her aflame.
Charlie was an excellent dancer. He knew how to lead better than she knew how to follow. He was patient and understanding when she stepped on his toes. She found herself leaning closer and closer until her head was nearly resting on his shoulder.
Emma closed her eyes and reminded herself not to get carried away. The song ended and a wildly popular pop song came on that got everyone on the dance floor. Emma did two fast dances with Charlie before she needed to take a break and drink some water. He offered to get it while she stole a seat at an empty table on the edge of the dance floor.