Page 57 of This Time Around
The guy grinned and pumped Allie’s hand. “Bryce. Great to meet you.”
“You, too, Bryce.”
He turned back to Jack, and his expression changed. So did his tone, switching to a timbre that reminded Allie of a late-night DJ counseling a caller on his marital woes. “Listen, I heard about what happened. I just want to say?—”
“Wow, are those Swedish meatballs?”
Allie blinked, then followed Jack’s gaze to the buffet table. She looked back at him, perplexed, but willing to play along.
“Yes,” she said, barely missing a beat. “I think they are. Would you like me to get you some?”
“Actually, I’ll go with you.” His voice was tight and a little too fast. “I want a lot of them. Bryce—it was great seeing you again. I hope you don’t mind if I?—”
“No, of course,” he said, clapping Jack on the back again. “We’ll talk later. I don’t want to stand between a man and his meat.”
He wandered away, blending back into the crowd. Allie turned to Jack. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get those meatballs.”
They’d taken three steps toward the buffet table when a trio of women approached. The instant they spotted Jack, the one dressed in a silver-sequined gown let out a soft gasp and put her hand over her heart. The other two tilted their heads to the side and gave identical sympathetic head shakes, looking like well-coiffed parrots. One wore a bright red gown and the other a strappy little number in purple chiffon.
One of the two—whose face seemed frozen by astonishment or Botox—marched forward with such purpose that Allie had to step out of the way to avoid being trampled under the strappy, bloodred Jimmy Choos that matched her dress.
“Jack Carpenter,” she said in a voice that reminded Allie of an audition for the dramatic lead in a high school play. “We were wondering if you’d be here. How are you, honey?”
The woman in purple chiffon was still doing the sympathetic headshake, but Silver Sequins dropped her hand from her heart and put it on Jack’s arm. “We were so sorry to hear about Caroline. How awful that must have been for you.”
“And you have a little girl, too,” Purple Chiffon added, making a sympathetic tsk noise that showed a flash of crimson lipstick on her teeth. “If there’s anything you need—anything at all?—”
“Uh, thanks,” Jack said, shooting Allie an imploring look. She tried to read his mind, not sure if he wanted her to introduce herself or fade into the crowd. She watched as Jack reached up to scratch his chin, and she tried to remember which cue that was. Friend or girlfriend? God, why hadn’t they spent more time nailing down the body language?
He seemed to be wrestling with the same question, then reached a conclusion. She watched as his hand dropped to his waist, then slid down for a subtle crotch-grab.
She stifled the urge to laugh as she stepped closer to Jack. A look of intense relief crossed his face, and he put his arm around her shoulders like it belonged there.
“Hi, I’m Allie,” she said. “Jack’s girlfriend?”
The three women stared at her. Silver Sequins blinked hard, making her lashes stick together like a pair of mating spiders.
“Oh,” murmured the one with lipstick on her teeth. “Well, my. That’s—that’s wonderful.”
“Absolutely lovely,” Botox added. “I’ve been so worried imagining you all alone, a grieving widower.”
“I thought of you when I read Vivienne Brandt’s book—But Not Broken?” Silver Sequins fluttered her lashes as though fighting back tears. “She talked about love and loss and grief and?—”
“Uh?” Jack shot Allie a pleading look.
“Dr. Viv’s work is wonderful, isn’t it?” Allie had read But Not Broken, just like every other red-blooded American female. As far as she remembered, it focused on escaping spousal abuse, rather than facing the loss of a spouse. But hey, this was a chance for a subject change. “I especially liked the newer book Dr. Viv wrote with her husband?—”
“Jack, I’ve just been so worried about you.” That was Botox again. “It must be so difficult for you.”
“Nope, I’m doing great!” Jack said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Business is booming, I’ve launched my own app development firm.”
“And your little girl?”
“Paige is great.” Jack shot Allie a look she couldn’t quite read. For lack of anything better to do, she put her hand on Jack’s ass. Might as well get something out of playing the role. He looked down at her and gave a smile that looked shaky, but genuine.
“Yeah, Paige is ten now,” he continued, sounding more steady. “Doing well in school, and she grew two inches in the last six months.”
Botox went for the heart-clutch again, and Allie admired the deliberateness with which she splayed her fingers over her cleavage. “It must be so hard for her without her mother,” she said, and the other two women did the sympathetic tsk again. “I can’t imagine?—”
