Page 56 of This Time Around
“Not mine,” she said, and the words came out sharper than she meant them to. “Anyway, there was also that whole business with my parents. I didn’t want to have to answer questions about it.”
“I guess I can understand that.” He glanced at the door, but made no move to reach for it.
“Jack.” She laid a hand on his arm. “We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want.”
“No, I want to.” He let out a long, ragged breath. “Of course, I might prefer shoving bamboo under my fingernails and soaking my hands in grapefruit juice.”
Allie giggled. “Or removing your eyelids with pliers?”
“Definitely preferable. Same with sticking a hot fork in my eye and twisting.”
“Oooh, ouch.” She studied his face, noticing some of the stiffness had started to leave his expression. “How about eating six jars of mayonnaise in one sitting?”
Jack laughed. “Using my toothbrush to clean litterboxes at your B&B.”
“Disgusting.” She grinned at him. “So just out of curiosity, why are you doing this?”
He sighed, seemed to be deciding something. “Does it make me a shallow jerk if I admit it’s because I want everyone to see I turned out well?”
“Nope.” She offered an encouraging smile. “You’re not a shallow jerk. I promise. That’s probably why most people are here.”
“What if I flat out say I kinda want to rub their noses in it?”
“Maybe a little bit of a shallow jerk.” She smiled. “It’s okay, though. Your secret’s safe with me.”
He nodded and gave her a look so full of gratitude she thought her heart might burst. “I guess that’s not the whole truth. Honestly, I just want to make sure I can do this.”
“How do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Being around groups of people who knew Caroline—it used to be hard, especially right after she died. I haven’t done it much in the last ten years.”
“Oh, Jack—” Allie felt her eyes prick with tears, but she was at a loss for what to say.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s been almost ten years. It’s not like I’m still in the depths of grief or anything. It’s just—this is sort of a test, I guess. To make sure I can handle it.”
“I believe in you,” she said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can to do make it easier.”
He grinned. “You already are. You’re here with me.” Jack took a deep breath and reached for the door again. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
He gestured for her to go ahead of him, so Allie walked through first. The foyer was empty, but Allie could hear the thud of bass so loud she felt it in her head. They followed the sound down a dim corridor, moving together toward the pulsing music. As they reached a doorway, Jack seemed to hesitate.
“You’ve got this,” Allie said.
“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he moved forward anyway.
They stepped into a dimly lit room packed tight with bodies and the smell of red wine and nervous energy. She felt Jack stiffen beside her, but he was surveying the room, getting the lay of the land.
The space was dotted with tall bistro tables draped with black tablecloths and a single purple iris in a silver vase at the center of each. A bar on the left side of the room already contained a cluster of people laughing a little too loudly. On the other side of the room stood a buffet table adorned with silver trays offering mushroom caps, crudités, charcuterie, fancy little pastries filled with something that looked like salmon mousse.
Jack started toward the food, but Allie reached out and touched his elbow. “Three o’clock,” she murmured, nodding in that direction. “Someone’s heading this way.”
“Shit,” Jack murmured as the guy drew closer. “I can’t remember his name. Brock or Brent or Brett or?—”
“Jack, my man! Good to see you again.” The guy did one of those fancy handshakes only men seemed to know. Some sort of handclasp melded with a shoulder clap and a chest bump. Allie stood back and hoped the guy didn’t notice how forced Jack’s smile looked.
“Good to see you . . . uh, man,” Jack offered. He looked like he needed a lifeline, so Allie threw him one.
“Hi there,” she said, reaching out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Allison.”
