Page 59 of This Time Around
“Perfect. I’d love Pinot Gris if they have it.”
“Coming right up.”
He slid his plate into her hand, then headed off toward the bar. Allie walked over to the table and set the plates on it, careful not to tip Jack’s meatballs onto the pristine black tablecloth. She picked up a baby carrot and surveyed the room, scanning for faces she recognized. In a way, she was glad not to see anyone she knew. It was easier this way, letting Jack’s college memories stay separate from her own.
A few feet away, a group of women all seemed to be smiling a little too broadly, laughing with a bit too much enthusiasm. Then again, who was she to judge? She’d enlisted a fake fiancé to show Jack and his nonexistent wife just how happy and well adjusted she was over a clam dinner she really couldn’t afford. She was hardly in a position to cast stones.
She looked back at Jack, who was making conversation with another guy in line at the bar. He laughed at something the other guy said, and she admired the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. They hadn’t done that in college, and it added a dimension to his face that hadn’t been there at eighteen.
Allie picked up a crab puff and took a small bite, careful not to dribble crumbs down the front of her dress. Nothing itched like phyllo stuck in a lace bra cup.
“Excuse me, are you Allison?”
She turned to see a slender, dark-haired woman in a black dress. Her well-manicured nails clutched the stem of a glass of white wine, and Allie wondered if Jack had sent her over to deliver it. She finished chewing her crab puff, embarrassed to be caught with her mouth full. She nodded in response, wishing she had something to wash down the flaky pastry.
“I’m Allie,” she said, swallowing the last of the crab puff. “Sorry about that. Are you one of Jack’s classmates?”
The woman gave a primal snarl Allie mistook for laughter. That was probably why she didn’t jump back fast enough.
“You bitch!” the woman growled, lunging at her. Allie moved back, but she wasn’t quick enough. Not to avoid the fierce slap, or the icy splash of white wine hitting her square in the face.
Chapter 10
Jack turned at the sound of the shout, half expecting to see one of his old fraternity brothers sticking a frog down someone’s shirt.
What he didn’t expect to see was Allie looking like she’d just run through a lawn sprinkler in her dress. Standing beside her was his late wife’s sister. From the look on her face, Missy was extremely mad or extremely drunk. Maybe both.
Abandoning his spot in line, he sprinted across the room.
“—and a whore and a tramp and a skank-wad and a hussy and a?—”
“Try harlot,” Allie offered, swiping a wet curl off her forehead and shooting Jack a warning look before turning back to face Missy. “And maybe charlatan. That’s always been one of my favorites.”
“What’s going on here?” Jack asked. “Allie, are you okay?”
“Oh, right!” Missy snarled. “It’s all about how your slut is doing. Not about my sister!” She sputtered and grabbed the edge of the table, swaying like a whiskey-soaked daisy in a windstorm.
Allie looked remarkably calm for a woman fending off an attack from an intoxicated stranger. She wrung something that smelled like Chardonnay from her hair and turned to look at Jack. “Your sister-in-law came over to introduce herself. It seems Missy is upset by my presence here this evening.”
“Bitch!” Missy snapped, then kicked off her shoes. She started to topple, and Jack reached out to steady her. She shook off his hand and glared at him, then jabbed a finger into his chest. “And you’re a traitor!”
“Missy,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “What are you doing here? Your mom said you guys were stuck in Cleveland.”
“You wish!” she slurred. Jack drew his hand back, and Missy turned the wagging finger on Allie, swaying there for a moment with the digit wiggling like a hooked worm. Allie just stood there, her expression as calm and unruffled as if Missy had just asked for her goulash recipe.
“I really like that color of nail polish,” Allie said. “OPI, right?”
“Scallop!” Missy shouted.
Allie seemed to consider that. “Is that a cross between a skank and a trollop?”
“Slut!”
“That’s good, but you already used it.” Her expression was calm and surprisingly considerate. “Did you want to give it another shot?”
The room around them had gone silent, with everyone turning to stare. Jack stepped closer to Allie and lowered his voice. “I’m so sorry. Missy’s um—had a little trouble since her sister passed. And I didn’t expect?—”
“It’s okay,” Allie said, wiping another wet curl off her forehead as she kept a wary eye on Missy. “These things happen.”
