Borrowed Vows

Few people wander New York's streets drunk, especially right in the middle of the day. Most hurry along and cut across the streets as if they are racing time itself to make more money. But not Elena. She took her sweet time drifting around, fighting to keep a straight path. Trying not to show her smile, she looked around and wondered why everyone wore blurry poker faces while talking on their phones and walking briskly down the street. She was glad she was self-employed--well, that was what she called it. Elena drew in a deep breath, beer still coating her mouth. She had been drinking since lunchtime for no clear reason. She had simply wanted a drink. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see better as she moved slowly, doing her best not to collapse whenever a passerby knocked into her and took in her condition and smell with darting eyes and a wrinkled nose. She groped for the wall and slumped against it, breathing hard. She should not have drunk that much, she thought. Her hands were going numb, her feet losing what little strength they had. If I do not find someplace to rest, I'm going to faint right here, she thought. Margot deserted her at the sight of the long, crowded street. Even her blurred vision was working against her. She knew the street well enough and was pretty sure there was nowhere to rest. Fine, then anywhere would do. Squinting one eye shut, she headed toward the nearest store and sank onto the bottom step, trying to hold her head up. If it dipped any lower, she would definitely puke then and there. Her phone began ringing again. She let it ring. She knew the caller was her father, and he had been wanting to see her since last week. She figured she ought to call him tomorrow, once she was sober again, just to get it over with. Elena did not have a problem--not really, she didn't. She was simply like that. She did whatever came to mind without thinking first. When she ordered the first bottle, she told herself it was to celebrate the exhibit coming up. When the second arrived, she figured she was celebrating life. By the bottles that followed, every thought of celebration had flown out the window. She got to her feet after her head cleared a little. What she needed was a cup of coffee, and she knew exactly where to get a perfect one. The rest must have helped because making it to the coffee shop felt less difficult. "My head is pounding, I need something strong," she told the woman at the counter as soon as she stepped into the shop. The usual crowd that lined up for their daily caffeine fix was long gone and back out on the street. It looked as though Elena was the lone customer after the early rush. "What would you like?" Elena lifted her eyes to the menu, the letters blurring together. "Just...make me something strong." "Okay, one extra-strong, very black Americano will be right up," Elena said. She fumbled in her purse for coins, dropped a handful into the lady's palm, and said, "Take the exact amount. I'm having trouble counting right now," The lady gave her a curious look but did as she was asked. She handed Elena the remaining coins and said, "I'll bring your coffee over if you want." She must have seen that her customer was struggling to stay upright. "Thanks. That would be great..." Elena moved to the nearest table and settled herself, propping her chin in her hand. Her lids kept drooping, but she had to remain alert. She still had to get home, after all. But her eyes closed anyway, desperate for real sleep. "Elena Kendrick?" a man's voice came from above her. "Hmm?" was all she managed. She noticed movement at the table across from her, and when she peered past her heavy lids, she saw a man sitting in the chair that had been empty, facing her. "I'm Nolan Halberg. There's something I need to discuss with you." "Come back when it's a better time," she slurred, shutting her eyes again. "Now is the best time." Irritation edged his voice, so she pried her eyes open again and looked at the man, her gray blue gaze meeting what looked like blue eyes--or maybe they were not, but she did not care right then. "Best time for what?" she asked, not at all in the mood to chat. "To make you an offer you surely won't refuse." He looked so serious that she snorted. "And what would that be?" If this man had come out early in the morning to read bible passages at her because of her drunken state, she didn't think she could handle him politely without somehow turning into a bitch. "To be my wife." All the alcohol that had been running wild through her veins seemed to stop and drain out of her head as she stared at the handsome stranger in stunned disbelief.