We need to talk about Amber.
I sat in the front seat of the Uber and made monosyllabic replies until the middle-aged driver caught the hint and stopped pestering me. It wasn't that I was irritated with the man —
Cam,
I thought, or whatever his name was. I just had something else turning over and over in my mind: Mike Lassiter's text message. On the list of things you
never
want to have happen to you: being out with your friends on a Saturday night, more than a little tipsy, and having one of your bosses send you an urgent text message that requires immediate attention.
I glanced over my shoulder into the back seat, where Carmen was sniffing dejectedly. Daisy rested her head on her sister's shoulder and Victoria quietly rubbed her back. Far away from me, seated in the second row of the SUV, was Amber. She was leaning forward and looking on, and even in the darkness I could tell that there was a concerned expression on her lovely features.
Normally, I would have gone right to my girlfriend with Lassiter's text. I would have asked her opinion, tried to get her help in figuring out what was going on. But there were too many things happening at once. Carmen was still upset, and it was wearing on all of us, but figuring out how to help her would have to wait until we got back to Starside. Likewise, I couldn't be sure what to do about these alarming texts from TRANCE Inc.'s Director of Talent Management until I had more information.
I was composing a message to Mike when the driver jogged me with his elbow.
"Huh?" I blinked, and realized that we had pulled into the semicircular drive of the luxury apartment building where the twins lived. The girls were being helped out of the back of the car by the Saturday night valet — a silhouette that I saw in the rear view mirror but didn't recognize.
"Go on," he said, gesturing at the shotgun-side door. "And I expect five stars." This last was a grunt of dismissal.
I was halfway out the open door, but I turned. "Look, Cam—" I said, glancing at the printed-out name and Uber ID that was pasted on the dash.
"C.M.," he interrupted, and I could tell from his tone that he was still irritated about how I'd brushed him off when we'd gotten in.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
My eyes twitched back and I reread the name tag.
Oh,
I thought, seeing that it was just the two initials. I felt the buzzed, socially-inept part of me try to react with anger at his tone and my embarrassment, but I shook it off. I felt bad for the guy, honestly. Even if it
was
his job, he did something nice for us.
Be a real man,
I told myself.
"Thanks," I said, and looked him in the face. "I know that you're one of those people out here picking up the club crowds and making sure they all get home safely. Most people probably don't appreciate it, and they treat you like I just did. But you don't deserve that. Thanks for getting us back here quickly and safely."
The man looked surprised, and ran a hand through his shock of white hair. "I once looked after a girl her age," he said gruffly, jerking his bearded chin toward Carmen and the other women, who were waiting by the door. "She fell for the wrong guy," he added, "to everyone's detriment." His eyes were looking into mine with an abrupt sharpness, like he was silently telling me,
I was thinking that guy might be you. On your phone while the girl cries quietly in the backseat.
I nodded in understanding. "I'll look after her," I said.
But as I hurried to join the others and the elevator took our tired, drained party upstairs, I worried about my ability to actually follow through on that promise.
Daisy immediately took Carmen back to the twins' bedroom and closed the door.
Victoria, Amber and I stood quietly in the entry area, like there had been a silent order for us to stay. I glanced at the others, waiting for one of them to take the initiative. When I saw two pairs of eyes — bright blue and deep brown — looking back at me, I realized that they had both turned to me with the same idea.
Crap,
I thought, and forced myself to nod confidently and pull myself out of my jacket, draping it over my arm. "Alright," I said. I tried to think of what we should do, and then gave up. "I think it's time for us to go to bed." I sighed as I said it, and realized how exhausted my body actually was. "It's late. And I think we're all tired."
Their relief was evident in the small movements — the little slump in the shoulders, the slight nod of the head. Amber shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up on one of the aesthetically-arranged wall hooks. The gorgeous blonde looked confident now, and the sight of her fantastic body in the tight-fitting clubbing dress was almost enough to distract me from what has happening in the other room at the far end of the corridor.
I made her feel that way,
I thought.
She feels confident because she trusts that my ideas are the right ones to follow.
The thought gave me strength, and I nodded more assertively. "Wait here. I'm going to go ask Daisy about sleeping arrangements for tonight."
The door to the twins' room opened at my knock, and I heard a
who is it?
from Carmen's side of the bedroom.
"It's just Chance," Daisy murmured over her shoulder, before looking up at me with her calm, green eyes. She looked composed, but I knew that she was just as tired as me and, because of her size, was probably feeling the alcohol even more than I was.
"I just wanted to ask about the sleeping situation," I said. I felt like I was intruding, suddenly, on one sister consoling another, and I wanted to let them have their alone time. "Where should Amber, V and I bed down? Are there sheets and pillows and things we need to set up?"
Nodding, Daisy quickly explained the layout of the guest suite — which was apparently on the far side of the living room and kitchen area — and said that it was kept stocked with everything we'd need. Over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Carmen. The lovely teenager sat on the edge of her bed and was taut with nervous, upset energy. Her back was hunched, and her face was in her hands.
I retreated quickly after Daisy's explanation, arriving in the living room in time to see Victoria unzip the top of a gym bag and reach inside. "I hope I remembered everything," she was saying, and then she tugged free a bundle of cloth and I realized she had packed herself an overnight bag.
Abruptly, it struck me that I hadn't brought anything to change into after clubbing. I hadn't brought a toothbrush, either.
Was I
that
nervous about going out?
I wondered.
That I hadn't even planned for afterwards?
"Here, Chance." The brunette rifled around inside for a moment and then pulled out some more folded clothes. "I saw you'd accidentally forgotten your toothbrush, so I thought I might make sure you had something to wear to bed."
Victoria glanced over when I didn't respond, and I nodded hurriedly. "Thank you," I said, walking over to accept the proffered tee shirt and sweatpants.
She pulled my toothbrush from a toiletries bag and extended it to me. "And this, too," she added with a smile.
I took it, then paused.
She's always doing things like this,
I thought.
That was what Victoria did. Take care of us. I shouldn't have been surprised that she thought of everything. But sometimes... It made me feel like an overgrown kid, someone who didn't have what it took to take care of himself.
Only I wasn't helpless. At least, not anymore. And I was learning that there are times when the easy thing — like letting someone else take care of you — isn't always the right thing. I glanced back down the corridor towards the twins' room. Then, I looked at Amber and Victoria.
I made a snap decision.
