Page 86 of Let’s Make a Scene

He’s standing in front of me, his hands cupping my elbows. His expression is serious, his sharp, wolf eyes soft and worried.

“There you are,” he murmurs.

“What just happened?”

“You had a panic attack, but you’re good now.” His matter-of-fact tone is helpful. “Come here and sit down for a minute.” He ushers me over to a low wall. I perch tentatively on it, and he sits beside me, his thigh pressed against mine.

I look around, and we’re at the back of the hotel, somewhere the staff sneak off to for breaks, if the cigarette butts on the ground are any indication.

“Sorry. I’ve never had a panic attack before,” I say, dazed.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Did you see—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Yes.” The word is hard.

I sigh, feeling wrung out. “I didn’t know he’d be here. I wasn’t ready…” I drift off, because I’m not sure I could have been ready. I close my eyes. “Did everyone see me make a scene? Oh god.” The thought occurs to me, “Brooke?”

He’s already shaking his head. “No one saw anything. You went white as a sheet, and I realized right away what was going on. I had you out of there really fast. Everyone was too busy dancing and having fun to pick up on it. Just a waiter who thinks you had a bit of a dizzy spell and was happy to show us this picturesque spot.”

My shoulders slump. I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder, and I don’t worry about it, don’t question if we should be this close because I’m just so glad he’s here, because he feels broad and strong and safe beside me.

He wraps an arm around me, presses a kiss to the top of my head. We sit for a minute in silence, and I feel the muscles in my body start to unwind.

“I suppose we’d better go back in,” I say reluctantly.

“Fuck that.” Jack is succinct. “I’ve already asked them to bring my car around to the back. We can leave anytime you want.”

“But the benefit… Theo… What about Brooke? She’s still in there.”

“You’ve had your picture taken and spoken to a lot of people,” Jack says. “They’ve got the publicity they want, and if I know you, you’ve already made a sizable donation. You’ve done your bit. You can text Theo and explain, though I don’t think you’ll need to. And as for Brooke… well, she’ll just think we’ve snuck off early together, which is perfect.”

“You seem to have it all figured out.” I can’t help the thrill that goes through me at this take-charge attitude. “What do you mean I don’t need to explain to Theo?”

“I mean he saw that prick was there too, and it looked like Clemmie was talking him down from punching his lights out.”

I sigh. “Oh, that’s not great.”

“My money is on his wife”—Jack sighs—“unfortunately.”

“Can we just sit here for a little while longer?” I ask.

“As long as you want,” he says, and then he moves away from me. I’m about to protest when I realize he’s shrugging his jacket off and pulling it around my shoulders. I slip my arms through his sleeves, which fall far past my fingertips. It smells like him, and it’s still warm with the heat of his body.

I snuggle in. “Thanks.” I hesitate. “That thing that you had me do when we came out here… the thing with my hand.”

“Hand on heart.” Jack nods. “It’s a technique for coping with anxiety and panic attacks.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“I used to have panic attacks.” He shrugs. “Quite regularly, actually.”

“Really?”

“Mmmm.” He’s quiet, and I don’t ask anything else, just wait to see if he wants to share anything more.

“Do you remember,” he says after a moment, his tone thoughtful, “the night we all went out and did karaoke? Then we came back for the bonfire?”