His good mistake

Audrey Danler doesn’t have « wedding hookup » on her bucket list. She is more than a hundred percent sure of that. Especially when there’s no bucket list in the first place.

So far, she’s lived an uneventful like filled with endless meetings and deadlines. Anything unrelated to her darling magazine ‘Sassy’ doesn’t interest her. Audrey steered clear from adventures and settled with running the town’s bestselling women’s magazine. But she’s happily made an exception for her best friend’s wedding.

However, as she gripped the bedsheet firmly to her nakedness, she’s definitely wasn’t happy. She inhaled a few yoga breaths as she tallied the strings of mistakes she idiotically did all in one night.

Tons of martinis.

Staying at the bar.

Entertaining a blurry stranger.

Flirting back.

Sleeping with said stranger.

That one gigantic mistake still lied on the bed as if to mock her. It wasn’t the impressive sneak peek of him that horrified her. It was the vivid scratches on his back where her manicured fingers left an evidence. She swallowed as she takes in what was exposed of him. They’re as perfect and gorgeous as the rest hidden under the sheets, for sure.

She winced when her head stung as if it were hammered in her sleep. Her cracked lips and hangover are the least of her concern though.

Audrey dips one foot on the floor, faltering when the delectably muscled and toned « mistake » stirred in his sleep. And then lets go of the breath she doesn’t know she was holding back when he stayed asleep.

Damn it.

This is not how she envisioned her morning after her best friend’s beautiful wedding day. Kathie Jane Lewis who married a bigtime Finance entrepreneur, Cade Parkinson is too precious of a friend to not sacrifice a few meetings for. Although she handed over the « maid of honor » title and the duties that came with it to their friend, Jessica Keith, she made it up to her by making it to the reception… after missing half the wedding ceremony.

She figured Jessica had more stamina when it comes to the touchy-feely affair called ‘weddings.’ She had way more experience even if it was just behind the lenses of her camera. As a wedding photographer, she’s passably more resistant than her.

Audrey slid her other foot off the bed and stared in horror at the disarray of garments on the floor. Her olive-green dress was slung over the lamp on the bedside table. She could only hope she didn’t striptease it off last night.

She tiptoed toward the bathroom, her belongings bunched in her arm. She puts her dress back on, aggressively ironing the creases with her palms. To no avail. Dread settled in her stomach. No one in their right mind will think she’s not doing a walk of a shame when they see her in the wrinkled dress.

Audrey Danler is decidedly disappointed of herself. She can’t remember the last time she shared a night with a man, but she never expected herself to pounce on a potential hookup given the itsy-bitsy chance.

She expected more rationality on her part. But then again, she was too helplessly drunk last night. Audrey usually takes responsibilities on her screwups but she’s probably going to leave this one out.

Just this once.

Audrey scurried toward the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. The « mistake » was unmoving on the bed, the covers crumpled around him like a massacre. She could make out a shiny, black mane of hair. She stops herself before her eyes could make it to his face pressed on the pillow.

He is a blurry stranger.

And she should keep it that way.

Audrey opted out of taking the elevator. She refused to be seen in her walk of shame state, thank you very much. She rummages through her purse as she took herself to her only choice of going out of the hotel : the stairs.

She phoned her assistant and given her specific instructions to pick her up. Audrey was panting by the time she made it to the ground floor.

In retrospect, taking the stairs from the seventh floor is not one of her brilliant ideas. She regrets it. But only a little when she comes to realize the stairs that made her look like a sweaty pile of dirty clothes saved her from the beady-eyed occupants of the elevator who will try to understand whether her hair was a ‘just-got-out-of-bed’ look or that’s all there is to it.

Relief breezed past her chapped lips as she sees her car pulling over, Kylie on the driver’s seat. She jogged toward it and she’s never seen her assistant like a godsend as she is now. « To my apartment, Kylie. I’m in desperate need of a shower. »

« Rough night, boss ? » Kylie’s eyes meet hers on the rearview mirror, amused.

She shot her a look. « If you say another word, you’re dead. »

Her assistant responded with a giggle. « Why didn’t you just shower at the hotel ? I’m sure a hotel that fancy must have a fancy showerhead. »

« It’s not the hotel. I just needed to get away as fast as possible. »

« You mean, you didn’t even leave him your number ? That’s—« 

« Kylie. »

She glances at her, sighing. « Right. Not another word. »

« Good. » Audrey sits back and rested her head.

« Your roots are showing. You want me to set up a salon appointment ? »

« Yes. Do that. »

« Oh. And here’s the Advil you asked me to bring. » Kylie managed to reach behind her while keeping her eyes on the traffic up ahead.

Audrey takes the Advil and the bottle of water. She popped it to her mouth and drank the whole bottle in two huge gulps. « Please, tell me I don’t have any appointment this morning. »

« You’re fine. I cleared your morning. »

She lets out a huge sigh. Thank, God.