Page 26 of Pour Decisions
The server comes to take our drink order; I force myself to ignore Robert’s raised eyebrow when I ask for a glass of Cabernet. He asks me a few more questions before we order dinner, and it feels more like we are having a conversation than an interview. I stop pretending to laugh at everything he says and faux flirting, choosing instead to focus on making sure I well think out my answers.
That doesn’t stop me from glancing up at Riggs’ table every thirty seconds. And every time I look, I find his hard-green eyes staring back at me.
Every. Time.
It’s unsettling. And makes me feel self-conscious. At the same time, I feel protected. And how that makes sense in my mind, I’m not sure. But it does.
“Excuse me for a moment, I need to visit the restroom.” Robert excuses himself from the table, making me feel conspicuous suddenly.
Riggs watches him stand and head toward the restrooms. He looks at me, then to Robert, and back to me before standing. I close my eyes and brace myself. Certain he is about to join me at my table and to say what? He andToniare deliriously happy, and would I please quit staring at him all night? Or maybe that I should have joined them at the pool this afternoon since I obviously need some color to my skin?
No, he can’t say that,Toniis just as pale as I am.
Maybe he plans to say—
The chair scooting back from the table interrupts my thoughts. It’s too soon for Robert to return. So it must be Riggs.
I summon all my courage, though for what I’m still unsure, and force myself to open my eyes.
“Morgan, is it?” Toni sneers from across the table.
14
“Ton—uh—Antonia, hi.” I glance around for an escape or a diversion. Something that helps me avoid having this conversation right here. Because it’s the very last thing I want to do. I’d rather stand on the table and sing the final stanza of the national anthem, the part with the super high note, then talk to Toni.
And I’m not a soprano, I’m all alto. In junior high chorus participation was mandatory and while all the girls stood on one side with their frilly dresses and hair bows, I stood with all the boys on the other side, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, with my hair in a low ponytail, so I would blend in better. Because no way was I getting my low voice anywhere near those daily sopranos, at least as far as our music teacher Miss Whitehouse was concerned.
“I’m only going to tell you this once, so listen closely.” She leans over the table toward me, her eyes hard and her hair soft, with skin that is practically glowing in the soft light of the restaurant. What must it be like to have that reflection in the mirror every day? With such perfect, symmetrical features; I would never tire of looking at myself.
I sense that my jaw has dropped open in awe and force my mouth to close.
Toni looks at me with barely veiled disgust. “Leave Riggs alone.”
“I, uh, I haven’t talked to him in months, I swear,” I stammer.
“I see the way you look at him, and I’m warning you now, fair and square, leave him alone. Don’t go near him, don’t talk to him, don’t touch him, just stay the fuck away.” She stands as she says the last part, her voice rising slightly.
The way the lights from the chandelier frame her head as I look up at her, and the shadows from the candles hit her face, she looks somehow angelic and evil at the same time. Like that moment in the Cinderella Castle at Disneyland where the witch looks normal, then lightening strikes and her face is suddenly hideous. Okay, that’s a stretch,Toni’sface could never be hideous, but still.
I see some of the other diners in my periphery, turning their heads toward us and whispering, and I immediately want to crawl under the table and die. Anything to not be the center of attention.
“Do you understand?” she demands.
“I do. No talking, no touching, stay the fuck away,” I repeat in a low voice.
She nods and turns to head back to her table, head held high, not an ounce of regret anywhere in her stature. She even looks like she belongs, her beige clothes blending seamlessly with the ivory and gold accented interior of the room. She moves to take her seat at their table, a server immediately appears to assist her. She lowers her ass into the ornate chair, somehow knowing they would pull it out for her and push it back in. Because for some women that’s how life works: chairs are pulled out and pushed back in, doors opened and closed, chivalry bestowed at every phase in their lives until it’s commonplace.
And for a moment, besides being scared shitless of her, I feel sorry for her too. When has she had to suffer or fight? I mean, coming over here and telling me to stay away from Riggs, that was ballsy. But it bolsters me in the end, not her. That she felt the need to come over here stake her claim against me of all people, is laughable. At the same time, I’m smart enough to know that if she feels the need to do it, there’s a reason for it. I’ve gotTonirunning scared of me.
And I like it.
15
I spend the rest of the conference dodging bothToniand Riggs. And, no, it’s not because she warned me to stay away. How Riggs affects me is terrifying. How he makes me feel when he looks at me and our eyes meet. Like I’m spiraling out of control and I don’t know how to deal with that. So, I’d rather not deal at all.
And I’m successful at it too, if you don’t count the fact that I’ve gone through three eighteen-dollar bear shaped gummy bear containers in my room. Each time I open a jar and eat them, a new jar appears the next day. Sometimes even in the middle of the day, like magic. And I’m sure I can reuse the jars in some clever way. At least that’s what I keep telling myself when I think of how over half my incidentals bills at the end of my stay will be candy.
But it’s how I’m able to sustain a sugar high right now as I make my way down to the main ballroom to check out the winners of the Wine Review Magazine’s Annual Innovation in US Wine Making competition. According to the agenda, they posted them about fifteen minutes ago. I had to force myself to wait the fifteen minutes to not appear too eager.
