Vodka Espresso

26. honeymoon

August, 2017

Bright sunlight tore Ingrid awake in the morning and as soon as she opened her eyes, her head began to pound.

"Fuck."

The word tasted dry and bitter in her mouth. She struggled upright in an unfamiliar bed, squinting. There was someone beside her. He was curled up and faced away from her. Ingrid swept a glance across the floor. Her dress lay ripped to shreds on the carpet.

"Fuck," she grunted again and slid to the edge of the bed.

Ingrid screamed inside at her own stupidity that had allowed her to end up like this, although in the back of her mind, she'd known all along it would be inevitable. Her feet tentatively touched the floor and she sat there, hanging her head, feeling the pain course through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"You all right, love?"

Ingrid looked over her shoulder at the man she had apparently spent the night with. It was the guy who'd offered her the stub of his joint.

"What was your name again?"

He grinned. "Frank." Frank propped himself up on his elbows. "You okay? Did I break anything?"

Ingrid snorted. "You're either overestimating yourself or underestimating me."

Frank whistled. "You're a wild fucking beast, I'll give you that much. You were drunk off your arse and I only meant to put you to bed, but then you jumped me out of fucking nowhere."

Ingrid gathered her strength and stood up. "Yeah, before you could fuck me in my sleep."

She hadn't booked a room at the venue, she was supposed to catch a ride back home after the party died down, so Ingrid guessed this was Frank's room. She headed slowly for the bathroom.

"I wasn't going do that."

Ingrid stopped and turned to look at him. His face was pleasing enough. What she could see of his naked body wasn't half bad, either. His bold eyes seemed to cloud over with hurt. She pondered whether she believed him, but nature called before she could make up her mind.

She decided to also take a shower while she was at it and by the time she came out, wrapped in a complimentary guest bathrobe, Frank had fetched breakfast for two. She sat opposite him at the little round table and tucked in.

"Do you always assume the worst about people?"

"Yeah." Ingrid buttered her toast. "Don't you?"

He shook his head. "Presumption of innocence."

Ingrid rolled her eyes at that. "What are you, a lawyer?"

"Solicitor, yeah."

Ingrid spread jam over her butter and thought about whether to call Edgar to her rescue or not. Then she remembered how she'd told him that her crew would look after her and couldn't help wondering why none of the other bridesmaids had ended up babysitting her.

"How come you're the one who got stuck with me? What were my friends doing?"

Frank poured tea for both of them. "Well, you were giving Rose a pretty tough time, so I stepped in and you clung to me. She had other drunks to see to."

"Right."

"You can ask her on your way out if you don't believe me."

Blurry fragments from the previous night began to seep through, now that the headache had calmed down.

"No, I believe you." She sat back, frowning, cup of tea between her hands. "You know, this was probably the first time I've ever had sex with a lawyer. Strange. How did I not bag one until now? There was a prosecutor once, but never a lawyer."