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Rehearsal Dinner

It's the night of the rehearsal dinner but Gina feels like anything but being there.

pairing: Robin Flores x MC (Gina Phillips) | words: 3.7k

notes: yes i know i’m a clown but i’m a clown who likes to self-indulge

special shoutout to @thenightdayblogger for proofreading this and giving me so much helpful feedback! you’re the best!

“Why am I not surprised?”

Gina glanced up from her crouched position to find the last person she wished to see right now approaching her.

Actually, he was more like the third to last person; first and second place belonged to her employer and his fiancee, respectively. She had holed herself away in this dark hallway, away from the busy dining room and away from prying eyes, to avoid them. It hadn't been her intention to start crying but she supposed that was inevitable at the rehearsal dinner of the engaged man she'd been flirting with.

A pit of uncomfortable dread had lodged itself in her chest the whole day leading up to the dinner, Gina being unable to find a plausible enough excuse to get out of attending, and the feeling only worsened once things began.

As she watched over the twins, she had front row seats to Sofia hanging on Sam's arm while they greeted their guests. It was a marriage of convenience, but there was a sparkle in Sofia's eyes, one Gina didn't think Sam was even aware of. He was too busy sending heated looks in her direction to notice that maybe this arrangement wasn't as business motivated to Sofia as it was to him. The thought was a guilty twist of a knife in her gut and she averted her eyes from the pair just in time to catch Mickey accidentally knocking some decorations off a nearby table.

The actual rehearsal for the ceremony was even worse. As Sam practiced his vows, his gaze kept landing on Gina as if he were speaking the words to her instead. The twins were standing up beside their father as his best men so she was forced to focus on her shoes in front of her, studying them ad nauseum until she felt the weight of Sam's gaze lift from her. At her back remained the pinpricks of stares from guests who had noticed Sam's less than subtle looks and the feeling of their scrutiny lingered there until she was finally able to retreat to the privacy of the town car.

Over the too-short trip to the dinner hall, Mason and Mickey had chattered-on excitedly in her ear about random things and though she had tried to meet their enthusiasm, her responses sounded flat to even her. Her mind was too preoccupied; she had no idea how she would face the crowd again and desperately wished she could tell Carter to take her home. By the time she had worked up the nerve to ask, they were already pulling up in front of the hall and she had all but a second to take a deep breath before stepping out of the car, the twin’s hands clasped in hers like lifelines.

Dinner soon began with a toast, led by Sofia's father. Gina found herself drowning out his comments about a woman's place in a marriage, focusing more on the fact that she'd been seated at a table far away from anyone she knew, the twins at their grandparent's table, and she wondered, not for the first time, why she was even here. If not for the boys, then was she meant to be here to prove that nothing was happening between her and Sam? To look happy and unperturbed that he was to be married the next day?

The way she was being watched and whispered about was a clear indication that had backfired.

Just the action of lifting her water to her lips resulted in two people at her table turning their heads away in an obvious manner. It made her feel uneasy but it was catching Sam staring at her again over the rim of her glass that did it, the final push to send her nerves over the edge. The temperature of the room rose and she felt her throat constricting as the whispers at her back reached a fever pitch, a drone of unfamiliar voices all gossiping about her, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t take it anymore.

As subtly as she could–though at least a dozen pairs of eyes followed, one of which she knew belonged to Sam–she slipped out of the room and into a service hallway. Finally it felt like she could breathe again, the pressure on her chest lifting with each step she took away from that room and those looks and Sam.

She hadn’t thought anyone would find her or even try–certainly too many eyes on Sam for him to get away–but someone had and she wasn’t sure if she should be happy that they had actually cared enough to look for her or annoyed at who that someone was, given that their last conversation had been an argument about the very thing she was feeling awful about.

She settled on annoyed and roughly swiped at her damp eyes. "I really don't feel like hearing an 'I Told You So' right now, Robin," she snapped at him, pushing off the wall to a stand, and moved to leave but he stepped into her path.

“I’m not going to gloat, Gina,” he said, his somber voice betraying his sincerity.

She looked up to meet his eyes and finding nothing patronizing there, she sighed and slouched her weight back against the wall. “Then why are you here?”

“You’re not going to like it, but Sam noticed you weren’t in the room for awhile and asked me to come find you.”

Gina huffed a derisive laugh, a foreign sound coming from her, “You’re right, I don’t like it.” The sharp words left a bitter taste in her mouth, a frown pulling at her lips. She was acting so unlike herself and judging by the way his brows creased downward, he had noticed too.

Not wishing to give him time to comment on it, she rushed on in a somewhat nicer tone to hopefully placate him enough to leave, “I just needed a moment away from the crowd. I’ll head back in there in a bit.”

Instead of walking away like she hoped he would, Robin's gaze was heavy on her for a moment before he asked, "Why are you torturing yourself like this? Couldn't you have asked for the night off?”

She dropped her eyes, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "I did try; Sam insisted that I'm ‘like family’ and wanted me to be here."

A beat passed before Robin said, "Sam's a jackass."

"Believe me, I know.”

Robin’s brows shot up this time at the frosty tone of her response, but rather than saying something right away, he studied her, maybe trying to figure out exactly where this new animosity towards Sam had suddenly come from.

Except it hadn’t been sudden at all; weeks of Sam leading her on only to for him to show no intention of anything besides acting like she was some big mistake had worn her down and made her feel like no more than a prop pulled by a string. It reminded her of one of those walking dog toys, little head bobbing from side to side as it was tugged along in a direction completely of the owner's whim. The likeness was mortifying and that shame shifted to irritation whenever she found herself being strung along again, annoyed at herself for letting it happen and that the secret flirtations had gone on this long.

For a while, she had liked to pretend like she never would have acted on her feelings towards Sam if he hadn’t made it seem like he could actually reciprocate but she knew she had fooled herself when Sam kept getting handsy while giving no sign of backing out of the marriage. She was a nanny to his children, not him, yet she kept having to be the adult, the one to push him away when he tried to cross a line.

"Want to get out of here?" Robin asked, breaking her from her thoughts. "This isn't my idea of a fun night either, and I know a place."

She considered the offer for a long moment before giving a small shake of her head. "Mason and Mickey are still my responsibility. Your parents are watching them right now but I'll need to take them home and put them to bed soon." It wasn't an excuse but the honest truth. The twins meant so much to her and no matter how much she wished she could run away from Sam and this damned rehearsal dinner, she couldn't abandon them.

In return, Robin simply nodded. Whether he thought she was making an excuse or not didn't matter. Shouldn't matter.

"I want to, though," she felt compelled to add.

His gaze fell on her again and she glanced up, meeting his eyes briefly before flitting back towards the garish hallway carpet. "I can’t tell you how much I'd rather run off with you than go back into that room to have Sam flirt with me again while Sofia’s back is turned and then ten seconds later act like the doting fiance."

"I thought you were the one interested in him," Robin remarked and she couldn't quite place the tone of his voice. She didn't look to see what his expression was, didn't want to.

"I was–am–but I took your advice and backed off. I told Sam I was done and wanted to keep things professional. But he acts like I never said anything." She held her arms closer to her chest, a rueful smile pulling at her lips. "You know, at the engagement party I told him I was sick of the push and pull, too. That he needed to make a choice or I would quit."

"And yet I found him fondling you in the lab weeks later." His voice had a hard edge to it but rather than accusatory like it had been at the picnic, he just sounded angry. Maybe, she hoped, on her behalf.

"Exactly."

A long pause. "Gina, maybe you should just quit."

She sighed, "You're right."

She glanced at him again, catching his surprise at her easy surrender. It almost pulled a laugh out of her. "Don't be so shocked," she said, "my letter has been written for a month now."

"Then why haven't you turned it in?" Robin asked, almost incredulous, like he couldn't fathom any reasons she would stick around just to be toyed with.

"Mason and Mickey," she answered.

His expression softened. "Oh."

"So many things are changing for them right now, I don't want them to feel like I'm abandoning them too in all this mess."

"Gina," Robin said quietly and she looked away again, already sensing what he was going to say. "They're great kids, and I know you care about them, but you need to do what's best for you."

"I know."

"Sam's just going to keep using you if you let him, even if you only are staying for the boys."

"I know."

"Once they're married, Sofia isn't going to stand for any background hanky-panky. She wouldn't risk a scandal. Sam is as subtle as a spotlight, it won't be long before someone besides me catches what's going on–"

"Do you know how many people kept looking at me all day?" Gina interrupted, annoyance coloring her tone. "I haven't so much as kissed Sam since before I found out he was engaged but because he won't stop looking at me, everyone keeps assuming I'm sleeping with him."

"Wait–aren’t you?" he asked and she bristled. Did he really think so little of her?

"What did I say before about assuming things? I may be attracted to him but I've not acted on it more than that one kiss." She watched as her words seemed to process, his expression shifting from realization back to disbelief.

"Jesus, and he's that possessive of you?" Robin guffawed. "He looked like he sucked on a whole lemon when he had to ask me to come find you."

Gina could picture that expression perfectly–it was probably on par with how pissed he'd been when she kissed Robin in front of him, a juvenile act she couldn't completely make herself regret (Robin had been a very good kisser and maybe it was nice not feeling like a dirty little secret for one single moment) even if it had probably led to half her troubles now.

"I'm surprised you agreed to go," she said as a way of changing the topic. "You're usually not one to listen to what he says."

"I was planning on looking for you before he asked," Robin said, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Believe it or not, I do care about your well-being. It's why I was so hard on you at the picnic–I thought, well I thought it had been you pushing things." His expression hardened again. "Clearly it was my brother I should've had a talk with."

Her brows arched. "Is this your way of apologizing?"

He let out a long breath, meeting her eyes evenly and the unusual seriousness of them surprised her. "Yes. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you like that."

"It's fine,” she found herself saying, the tension in her shoulders easing, “I'm sure you were just looking out for your brother or–”

"I don't care about Sam," he cut her off, the harsh edge of his words not lost on her; it wasn't the first time she'd heard him speak with that subtle vehemence towards Sam. Given her current soured feelings towards the man, she figured there was probably good reason for it.

"Then why get so involved?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to reply but paused, as if rethinking his response. "I won't let him mess up the company," he finally said slowly, carefully. "Or your life. You deserve better than to be strung along like that."

Several beats of silence passed between them, Gina unsure what to say. She knew she did deserve better but hearing someone else say it and mean it, after everything she had gone through today... She started crying again.

Robin’s entire body tensed, caught off-guard by the outburst, but she waved her hand to allay his worry. Rather than tears of frustration and embarrassment, forced out of her to release the pressure that had suffocated her earlier, these were of relief. Someone actually seemed to be looking out for her, and after an evening of unsubtle stares and pointed gossip, of months of false hope from Sam and guilt whenever she saw Sofia, the solace that gave her was overwhelming.

When her tears showed no signs of stopping, Robin took a step towards her, angling his body as if to block anyone's view of her should they come down the hallway. “Hey, obviously I know what’s wrong but...” The unfinished sentence hung in the air, leaving her to answer if she wished. His concerned expression made her cry harder.

"I’m sorry,” she blubbered. “It just means a lot to have someone on my side.” She thinks maybe she should be worried how easy it is for her to open up to him, to admit everything she’s feeling so readily. She repeatedly denied her feelings for Sam to her best friend, even though the woman was incessant on getting the details, but he had asked one time and she blurted it out like she was in a confessional with the pope. “In that room it felt like everyone was staring at and judging me, I felt completely alone. I really couldn't take it anymore and then you were the only one who came looking for me and–"

“Gina–”

“I’m just really grateful,” she interrupted and he silenced, studying her with an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face. She felt like shrinking under the intensity of his gaze, suddenly apprehensive. “What?”

"Do you want a hug–"

Not even letting him finish, she fell against his chest and his arms quickly came up to wrap around her back.

She had hugged him once before, on a rooftop while feeling equally terrible, but that time had been short, interrupted by the person in question that had made her feel bad enough to need a hug in the first place. This time the embrace was lingering, Robin's warmth seeping into her, his larger frame enveloping hers in a way that made her feel safe. Again she was thrown off guard by how comfortable he made her feel, and she wondered, as her tears started slowing, if this was a special skill he had with everyone or just her. She’d have to ask later, she thought idly, as she pressed her face closer to his lapel and took a steadying breath, catching a hint of some cologne he had sprayed on hours earlier–smokey and distinctly different than the kind Sam used. She liked the scent.

"Woah, they're hugging!"

"Mickey, don't be rude–"

Gina's eyes snapped open–when had she closed them?–at the twin's voices and quickly twisted in Robin's hold to face them. Mason was pulling at his brother's arm to get him back to the party that they had wandered off from, as was their habit, but Mickey wouldn't budge.

He was squinting at her, his eyes widening into comical circles when he noticed the tears on her face. An accusatory finger was flung in their direction. "Gina's crying! Uncle Robin made her cry!"

Mason immediately stopped his tugging to look more closely at the scene. Gina quickly wiped at her face to remove any remaining signs that she'd been crying but there was no pulling the wool over these two’s eyes.

"I'm fine, boys, I swear," she said even as they protectively crowded in on her. Mason latched onto her arm, scanning her up and down as if inspecting for any injuries, while Mickey glared daggers at his uncle, a look that would be hilarious in any other situation.

"Did he hurt you? Should I go get dad?" Mickey asked.

Alarm bells rang in Gina's mind. The last thing she needed on top of everything else tonight was for Sam to discover her crying in Robin's arms, which, she realized belatedly, were still circled loosely around her waist. She took a step back and his arms dropped back to his sides. She ignored the way she immediately missed the heat of his body against hers.

"Don't worry, Robin didn't do anything," she focused on reassuring the boys, relieved to be slipping back into the familiar territory of nanny-mode. "I just needed a hug, is all." They looked unconvinced, especially Mickey, and she wasn’t sure if Robin’s unusual silence was helping matters or not. She surreptitiously elbowed him.

“That’s right,” he perked up enough to say and she wanted to roll her eyes. Real helpful, Robin, she thought, before pulling on a smile for the boys.

"See? All good."

"You could have asked us for a hug, Gina," Mason frowned, as if hurt that she hadn't gone to them first.

She gave him a more genuine smile, her heart warming at his dejected expression. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, promise. I'm really okay, though."

Mickey, though still eyeing Robin suspiciously, nodded. "Ok, if you say so."

Relieved that a potential crisis had been averted, Gina pulled out her phone and was surprised to find it was already well past nine. She shoved the device back into her pocket before turning to fully face the boys. "It's getting late, why don't we go find Carter so he can take us home."

"Will dad be coming, too?" Mason asked.

Her lips pressed tightly together. "Probably not, these things tend to run late." Well into the night, she silently hoped, wanting to be asleep by the time Sam got home and avoid the conversation with him about where she’d disappeared to or what was wrong.

"Uhg, I should've known," Mickey complained, already spinning on his heel to leave. Mason on the other hand hovered reluctantly at Gina's side, waiting for her to go with them.

With him there, she really couldn't say anything further to Robin so she opted for a simple, all encompassing, thank you.

"Don't worry about it," he said, clearing his throat. "Get home safe."

"You too," she said, letting Mason lead her along now.

"Bye, Uncle Robin."

"Night, kiddo."

They made it halfway down the hall before Robin called her name and did a half-jog to catch up with them. "Here," he said, holding out a small blue handkerchief to her.

She raised a brow. "What's this for?"

"Your makeup ran a bit, figured you wouldn't want anyone..." His voice trailed off into a shrug. She stared blankly at the cloth for a beat before she caught his meaning. It hadn’t even crossed her mind how smudged her makeup must be after all that crying and she gratefully accepted the handkerchief. He shoved his hands into his pockets as soon as she did, the set of his shoulders relaxing as if relieved she hadn’t rejected it.

"Better?" She asked after several passes under her eyes.

He leaned forward, just within her personal space, and hummed. "You look a bit like a raccoon still,” he answered, his familiar joking smile pulling at his lips, “but.. better."

She chuckled. "I guess that'll have to do."

"Gina, come on!" Mickey called from the very end of the hall. He was warily watching Robin again, looking half ready to come marching back and give his uncle a piece of his mind should he be given enough reason to, which, making him wait much longer might be.

Wanting to avoid that, she turned back to Robin to return his handkerchief. Their hands brushed as she dropped it into his palm and, without thinking, she squeezed his fingers with hers, for just a few brief seconds, before letting go. His dark eyes darted to hers and her stomach did a little flip at their intensity.

Well, that’s new.

She quietly cleared her throat. "Thanks," she said again, hand dropping to her side. "Goodnight, Robin."

“Night, Gina,” he returned in his usual light tone.

With that, she continued on with Mason to his brother, fumbling for her phone to call Carter. The eyes that followed her back until she turned the corner left her feeling warm.

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