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5.2 Wedding: Toes

you care too much about me and not enough about yourself.

"You can't stand there," Josephine said quietly. She tried to harden her voice as she tapped the shoulder of the older man. "Sir," she called out. "Sir, you can't stand there."

The man turned on her and she sulked back because he was definitely drunk. He flashed her a smile and then shrugged. "Just gon' stand here for a better view of my grandson. Looks good tonight, right? Black suit and everything; that's my grandson up there."

She smiled but shook her head. "He looks nice, yes. But you're going to have to find your seat for everything to start."

"I want to stand," he boomed aloud, eyes grey and narrowed on her brown ones. She let out a huff at his newfound aggression, suddenly not so hesitant as she sent him a sour smile that she was too familiar with.

"If you don't take your seat, sir, I'll call security and have them escort you out of the arena."

"No, he won't let that happen. M' grandson won't let you do that, miss." He took an alarming step forward. Jo rose her eyebrows at him; this man was not going to start a scene in the middle of his grandson's wedding. She wouldn't allow it.

"Take your seat," she demanded, dropping her hands to her sides. She lifted a hand and held out her thumb and forefinger. "I'm this close to calling security."

"Who the hell are you? I don't kn-know who the f-"

"Someone in charge," a voice sounded from behind her. She looked over her shoulder only to feel a hand press on the small of her back. Jo's mouth fell open at Harry whose eyes were on the man in front of them. "So if you can't listen to orders, you'll have to be left out of the whole event." His hand snaked around her waist despite how still she was standing. She couldn't fight how resentful she was toward him. She moved away from his touch, but the man in front of her smelled too much of cologne and his own flask of beer so she walked backward against Harry's chest.

"We're at a wedding, don't be so-"

"Take your seat." Harry interrupted. "Gale and his bride-to-be want everyone seated before it starts and you're holding everything back."

The man gave Jo a blank expression before shrugging his shoulders like he was upset; still turned his back to walk away toward one of the tables in the far corner. In her pocket, Joey's phone began ringing, but she ignored it and turned to Harry. His hand dropped from her and he crossed his arms against his chest. "I didn't need your help," she hissed out. She knew how petty she was being, but she felt that she had the right to be. To some extent, at least. Harry seemed to mess everything up every time he was around. "I can handle myself. I don't need help, and I definitely don't need anything from-"

"Breathe," he gently murmured, green eyes catching her attention like they did all other times. "Breathe, Jo."

"Please take your seat and-" stay away from me, she wanted to finish. She rubbed at her temples. "wait for the ceremony to begin." She practiced that line for two nights, but never in the cold tone that stained her voice.

"Sit with me?" He asked her.

"You have a date," Jo pointed out. She felt really used. "And you need to leave me alone."