Page 46 of The Worst Best Man

“Look, Elliot. Let’s work this out. I’ll get you whatever it is you want if you let me leave.”

“Nice try, Randolph. But there’s only one person who can give me what I want.”

“Aiden is not going to let you get away with this.”

Frankie froze. This guy had to be someone Aiden knew. Was that the reason he hadn’t let her kick in the door last night? She rubbed the knot on her head.

She was reaching for the door, ready to burst through it and demand answers when she heard a faint knock.

“Stay here and this will all be over soon,” Asshole snapped, slamming the bedroom door.

The closet door flew open, and Frankie jumped back, hitting her head again in the same spot.

“Are you okay?” Chip asked when she doubled over.

“Ouch!” Frankie’s hair snagged on a clothes hanger. She felt a half dozen bobby pins explode out of her head. “Oh, my God!”

“What?”

“My hair! My head! We have to get out of here!”

They both stopped, listened. There was more than one voice in the living room now, and it was only a matter of time before someone came back in.

Frankie rushed to the wall and pulled back the heavy curtains. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered when she spotted the balcony. As quietly as possible, she muscled the sliding glass door open. The noise of ocean and resort life immediately filled the room, and she winced. If they stopped talking outside the bedroom, they’d hear.

Ugh. Three floors up, she confirmed, looking over the balcony edge. There was no way down, but perhaps there was a way out. The railing banister was wider than the railing itself. Some enterprising architect had probably realized people would want to put their crystal martini glasses down to take sunset selfies. And it connected every balcony on the floor.

“Chip, get out here,” Frankie hissed.

He hobbled into the daylight like a hungover vampire.

“Why’s the sun gotta shine all the time here?” he groaned.

“Oh, my God. Climb up here.”

“You’re bleeding!” he said, gaping at her.

She touched her fingers to her hair. “I hit my head on the safe. It’s fine.

“It looks like…” Chip doubled over and breathed deeply.

“Pull it together, Chip.” He’d been pre-med at NYU until he realized that blood made him vomit and faint. “Don’t make me slap you.”

“Okay. Maybe if I just don’t look at you.”

“For the love of god, Chip. I need you to climb up on this railing and shimmy your ass to another room with an open balcony door. We need to go. Now!”

Chip peered down to the terrace below. “Jesus, Frankie, that’s like instant death!”

Frankie grabbed his face in her hand and squeezed his cheeks until he made fish lips. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to stare at her head wound. “Chip, do you want to marry Pru today or not?”

“Yesh.”

“Then get your ass up there and shimmy over to the next balcony.”

“Okah.”

She released his face and pushed him toward the railing.