Page 33 of Love’s a Script (Hearts Collide #1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Our ride will be here in five,” Mary called into her apartment.

She stood in her entryway ready to go, waiting on her sister.

It was the morning of the polar plunge, and Mary already couldn’t wait for the day to end.

It was colder than forecasted, the painkillers for her headache hadn’t kicked in yet, and her sister was getting on her last nerve.

“You need to oil the hinges on your door,” Hattie said as she exited Mary’s bedroom where she’d been changing.

“Noted,” Mary tensely said. It must’ve been her sister’s dozenth complaint about some element in her apartment since she’d arrived. Mary might’ve been equipped to engage with Hattie if not for her own testy mood.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m borrowing a hoodie,” Hattie said.

“Yeah, it’s fine—wait, no, not that one,” Mary said, approaching to take Ruben’s National Broadcasting Association hoodie from her sister.

She’d yet to return it, but it was on her to-do list. Mary refolded the hoodie and walked it back to the drawer it had been hiding in, returning with one of her own for her sister.

“I liked the other one. It’s baggy,” Hattie said as she reluctantly slipped into the sweatshirt.

“Well, it’s not mine.”

Her sister looked at her. “Whose is it?”

“I borrowed it.”

“Yeah, okay. That doesn’t answer the question,” her sister said. “Are you seeing someone?”

“What? No.” Mary stepped into her boots and gestured for her sister to follow suit.

“Come on, tell me the truth,” Hattie said. “Don’t make me hire a PI.”

“That is the truth. I borrowed it from a friend, okay? We need to get going now. The car is almost here.”

Hattie dropped the subject, for which Mary was grateful.

She was trying to do less talking and thinking about Ruben.

She’d gone entire days, sometimes two in a row, without considering him, her feelings for him, or his lack of feelings for her.

It had made her believe she’d surmounted the emotions, and she’d tuned into his radio show one evening to test herself.

Immediately, she’d failed as her heart quickened, simply listening to his conversational lilt while he interviewed some economist. Minutes later, she was on the verge of tears and rubbing an ache on her sternum.

The sisters left the apartment to find their ride waiting and greeted their driver as they settled into the back seats that smelt faintly of cigarettes.

Not long into their journey, while Mary was watching the scenery change from closely packed buildings to stretches of undeveloped land, Hattie asked, “Can I get my registration bib?”

“I don’t have it,” Mary said, frowning. “Why would I have it?”

“I told you to grab it from the counter.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Then I didn’t hear you.”

“Clearly.”

Mary took a breath, gaining control of her emotions before asking the driver to turn around. The retrieval was quick, and they were again on track to get to the plunge site on time. But before they could leave the city limits, they took another diversion from the predetermined route on the GPS.

Mary pressed forward to ask the driver, “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he replied. “Need to check something.” He tapped the dashboard where a series of lights were blinking. They pulled into the empty parking lot of a high school—twenty minutes away from their destination.

When the driver exited the vehicle to open the front hood, Hattie mumbled, “We’re going to be so late now. I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

“Can you just fucking stop complaining?” Mary said.

Hattie carefully asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But you’ve been annoying all morning, and I didn’t appreciate you blaming me earlier for something that isn’t my fault. You forgot your bib, not me.”

“Okay, yes, you’re right,” Hattie said, her hands up. “I apologize.”

The sisters sat silently and listened to their driver tinker with the complexities under the front hood.

However, it was soon clear that the problem didn’t have a quick fix when he abandoned mechanics to make a call.

When he returned to the driver’s seat, he told them, “Another car will be here to pick you up, don’t worry. ”

“How long will that take?” Mary asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

It was the first year the sisters weren’t using their own vehicles as they’d grown tired of the parking mayhem at the plunge site, but now they were at risk of missing the whole event.

“Mitch can be here in five,” Hattie said, but that was a severe underestimation. Getting all three boys in the car alone would take double that time.

Mary pulled out her phone to see if there were faster options on the rideshare app, but an incoming call interrupted her progress. The number was unattached to a contact in her phone, but she recognized it. She didn’t debate before picking up. “Ruben?”

A calm settled over her once she heard his smooth voice on the other line, and despite everything, she said to him, “I could use your help.”

* * *

Ruben’s hands were jittery, as if electricity mingled with the blood in his veins, and he tightened his grip around the steering wheel to steady them as he pulled into the bare parking lot of the Catholic high school where Mary and her sister waited for him.

On his drive over, as he’d thought of what he needed to tell Mary, he’d considered the possibility that she wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

It didn’t lessen his resolve, however. He knew that even if she didn’t feel the way he did, she couldn’t deny their connection, and he was pinning hope on her seeing that it was worth exploring.

“Talk about right place, right time,” Hattie said to Ruben when he exited the car to greet them and open the trunk for their bags.

“Yes, thank you for coming,” Mary said.

“Always. Whenever,” he replied, realizing the response too intense when the sisters looked at him in unison. But he didn’t attempt to backtrack. She’d soon understand.

“So, polar plunging,” he said, once they were on the main road. “How does it work?”

Ruben looked at Mary in the back seat through his rearview mirror, but she was staring out of the window with a neutral expression as Hattie, in the passenger seat, replied, “Basically, you strip down to your underwear or bathing suit and sit in an ice-cold lake for two minutes.”

“And you both do this every year for fun?”

Hattie answered on the sisters’ behalf again. “For fun and charity.”

“Cool, cool,” Ruben said before trying a few more topics to draw Mary into conversation. None of them did the trick.

“The last time we met,” Hattie said, “I don’t think I caught how you and Mary know each other.”

“Through work,” he replied. “I joined her agency for a story.”

“Oh!” Hattie perked up. “You were one of Mary’s clients. Did you find someone?”

He hesitated. “Not exactly.”

“Hmm. It’s not for everyone.”

Ruben detected a slight condescension in Hattie’s tone, perhaps subconscious and dulled from years of repetition.

“Few things are for everyone,” he said, “but the agency has a 92 percent success rating, so don’t put too much stock in my experience.

Your sister is great at what she does. People get married because of her.

She’s passionate and thoughtful and rigorous with her approach.

I just happened to be a client who was too much of a duck for the process to work. ”

“A duck?” Hattie asked.

“A skeptical smartass,” he said as Mary’s eyes finally met his in the rearview mirror.

She quickly looked away, and he wanted to express all his feelings right then, get her to understand that what he felt for her went beyond his admiration for her work ethic.

But she deserved more from a declaration of love where his attention wasn’t split between her face and traffic.

For the rest of the journey, he was siloed in his thoughts and emerged again only while looking for parking at the event grounds.

The plunge site was a lakefront populated with people, cars, one media truck, and erected white tents with signs denoting change rooms, a registration booth, food concession stands, a heating zone, and a first aid station.

As Ruben reversed into a parking spot on a mound of slush, Mary said to her sister, “I’ll sign us in and meet you outside the changing tents.”

Ruben got out of the car with the sisters and opened his trunk so they could retrieve their bags.

“Thank you again,” Mary said. “I appreciate you coming to the rescue.”

“Of course. And if you want,” he said, “I could wait. Give you a ride back.”

“No, that’s okay. We’ll be fine.” She gestured to the fleet of cabs waiting for participants.

Ruben wanted to insist, but Mary walked away toward a long queue ahead. He watched after her until she disappeared in the crowd.

He turned to close the trunk, startling when he discovered Hattie still standing there, studying him.

“By chance, are you a member of the National Broadcasting Association?” she asked.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

Hattie smiled. Nodded. “Thought so. And does my sister know you’re in love with her?”

Something lurched in Ruben’s chest. He didn’t ask Hattie how she knew and simply said, “No, not yet.”

“So you plan to let her know?”

He nodded.

“Would you like to do it now?” she asked, holding out her registration bib.