“You’re here.” She motioned Riley over. “And Riley, you’re here.”
I sat down, my heart thudding in my ears the whole time, and watched Larry as he sat across the table from me, but down a few chairs. Next to him was Mr. Richards, and they spoke to each other in low tones. I wanted to go sit next to them and eavesdrop, but I’d probably make a bigger mess out of it than I already had.
I stared down at my empty plate instead. I had a sinking suspicion that something bad was about to happen. It didn’t make any sense, but I did. Maybe it was just paranoia about what I’d said to Larry. Maybe it was the drinks I’d had.
But something felt off.
“Hello, again.” Riley sat next to me and waved his hand in front of my face. “Hello? Earth to Carrie? Are you in there?”
“Huh?” I looked up at him, blinking. “Oh. Yeah, sorry.”
“You okay?”
“Yes.” I nodded and picked up my water. “Got distracted for a minute.”
He leaned closer, his hot breath washing over my ear. “Well, I am starving. Do you know what we’re having?”
“Um...” I took a deep breath and scooted away. The light flirtation we’d been sharing felt a little too close now. Especially with my parents watching and scheming, and Larry across the table. “I think it’s turkey and ham.”
He nodded. “Excellent. I love them both.”
“I hate turkey.” I lifted my chin and stared at the table. “I prefer lasagna.”
“That’s good, too,” he agreed. “I love lasagna.”
“Is there any food you don’t love?” I asked drolly.
“Um, nope.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re something else.”
“I’ve been told that once or twice. By you even.”
“By other women, too?”
“Of course,” he said, grinning. “They all love me as much as I love food.”
Such a cocky statement, but coming from him…it wasn’t cocky at all. I had no doubt it was true. He was kind, hot, and smart. What wasn’t to like? “I love food more than you.”
“That’s because you haven’t kissed me,” he said, shrugging. “That tips the scales in my favor.”
I snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Care to find out?” he asked, raising his brow.
“I’ll pass.” I frowned at him. “But thanks for the offer.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. “Why isn’t your boyfriend here, anyway? If I were your man, I wouldn’t be sending you home alone at Christmas.”
I took a second to choose my words carefully. “He’s not—”
A phone rang, and everyone looked up. Then another phone joined in. I zeroed in on both the owners. Larry and Mr. Richards. Larry stood and fished out his phone, smiling at the table. “Sorry, I kept my phone on me in case my son called.” He looked down at the screen and frowned. “Excuse me for a second?”
“Yes, of course,” Dad said, nodding once.
Mr. Richards also answered, walking in the opposite direction of Larry. The two of them getting a phone call at the same time? That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
My gaze darted between Mr. Richards and Larry, my heart racing and my palms going sweaty while my mouth dried out. Larry lifted the phone to his ear as he walked toward the double doors. If that was Finn, I wanted to know. No, I had to know.
I started to stand up, but Riley put a hand on my thigh. “Dude,” I snapped, shoving it off. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Whatever you’re thinking about doing right now? Don’t. Your dad is watching you and he looks pissed.” Riley leaned in and smiled, completely at odds with his warning. “Something tells me you’d like to know about that call.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to sit back down. “H-How do you know?”
“I could see the tension in you when those men answered their phones,” Riley said, picking up his glass of water. “And then the answering anger in your father. Who are they to you?”
“One’s a bodyguard and the other is a family friend,” I answered dismissively, stealing a quick glance at Dad. He was totally watching me, so I forced myself to look at Riley instead of Larry. “That’s all.”
Riley shook his head slightly. “If you say so.”
A masculine cry sounded, and a phone hit the marble floor, clattering once or twice before landing. It was like a slow-motion nightmare. You know, the ones where a murderer is chasing you and you’re running as fast as you can, only you’re moving in slow motion? Yeah, that. Only ten times worse.
Dad was the first one on his feet, followed by me. Larry leaned against the wall, a hand to his mouth and his face even paler than before. I shoved my chair back and took off running in my heels, knowing I needed to get to Larry’s side. Knowing I needed to help him, but also knowing he’d gotten bad news.
Bad news about Finn.
I bolted around the edge of the table. Mr. Richards grabbed my elbow even though he was still on the phone. “Carrie, wait. He’ll know what’s going on if he sees your face.”
“I don’t care.” I shook free, stumbling backward when he let go. “I’m going.”
I took off again. Vaguely, I heard people shouting, and talking loudly, and Mom shouting my name, but I didn’t even register any of it. All that mattered was getting to Larry. My throat ached with tears that were already threatening because I knew, I just knew, this was bad.
Dad got there first, and I wanted to shove him out of the way. “What is it, Larry?” he asked, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Griffin. He’s been…oh my, God.” Larry fell to his knees and scrambled for his phone with shaking hands, crawling forward on all fours. “I have to go. I have to go now.”
“I’ll take you,” Dad said, squatting beside him and handing him the phone. “Larry, come on. Where are we going?”
I finally reached their side, but I’d already heard all I needed to know. I pressed a hand to my speeding heart, wondering how it could be beating when it had been ripped out of my chest just seconds before.
“W-What happened to him?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Larry?”
“Larry’s fine,” Dad said quietly, standing up and smiling calmly at the people gathering behind me. “It’s his son who’s not all right. Stay here and control the madness with your—”