“Her name is Lily Harting, so if someone by that name calls, I sent her. She could really use a little good luck.”
Cal placed his hand on the small of Carrie’s back, offering Alice a nod as they walked toward a circle of people she didn’t recognize. Carrie spoke for a moment before everyone in the circle looked over at Alice. She pretended not to notice, scanning the raw bar line until she spotted Duncan almost at the front.
Duncan introduced Alice to the two women he’d been chatting up. They were overly friendly in a way that was not meant to be friendly at all. He frowned at Alice when he detected the serious expression on her face. “You okay?”
She nodded and handed him his clear effervescent drink.
“I’m surprised they didn’t do a signature cocktail. Like Love Potion Number Nine or something.” He started humming the melody of the song. Alice laughed politely, but she wasn’t really listening. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Alice nodded, glancing back at Carrie. The sun had disappeared, but it was still just light enough for Alice to find Carrie and Cal, now standing alone beneath a bougainvillea. As Carrie adjusted Cal’s tie, he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. They were obviously happy together, so Alice tried to put the encounter out of her mind. The magic of Alice’s story may have faded, but her former client was in love.
Alice returned her attention to Duncan, who was watching her, concerned. She held up her cocktail then tipped it back, finishing it in one long gulp. “Just haven’t had enough to drink to be at a wedding.”
“Well, there’s an easy fix for that,” he said, shaking his glass.
At last they reached the front of the line, where Alice took three oysters, two clams, and one piece of uni, while Duncan piled his plate until it could not possibly hold another shell.
“You know it’s tacky to load up on the raw bar,” Alice said as they found two empty chairs beneath a bougainvillea bush.
He slurped an oyster greedily from its shell. “You know what’s worse than being tacky? Having to wait in that line again.”
Throughout the early evening, every time Alice left Duncan’s side to get them another drink or to chase one of the waiters down for a wonton with tuna tartare, she would return to find him surrounded by a small group of women, who quickly dispersed when she appeared at his side, casting her cool glares.
“Seriously, do you wear catnip or something?” Alice said as she offered him another gin and tonic.
“If I did, I would attract cats.” Duncan’s voice turned dryer when he joked. It was his only tell, and it always took Alice a moment to notice.
The band started playing a Whitney Houston cover, and Duncan’s eyes sparked as he grabbed Alice and dragged her to the dance floor. Alice loved to dance, usually in the privacy of her apartment, where Agatha remained indifferent to her offbeat moves. To her surprise, beside Duncan she had both rhythm and grace. She let herself get lost in the moment. When a ballad came on, he pulled her close and counted off steps as they waltzed around the floor.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” she asked when the music stopped and they were all directed to their tables for the salad course.
“You forget, I was married. Dance classes were a prerequisite for the wedding, at least for my ex.”
At the table he pulled out her chair, and she looked at the faces of the envious women surrounding her, finding she didn’t mind that they were jealous.
Salad was served. Wine was poured, then poured again. Alice tried to keep track of how much she was drinking. Part of the waiters’ job was to make the guests lose count. Salad was replaced with filet mignon and Chilean sea bass until the table was emptied of everything except teacups, spoons, and wineglasses to prepare for the dessert course. Alice excused herself to go to the bathroom.
When she came back, Duncan was not sitting at their table. She scanned the dining area but did not find him. In her periphery, she glimpsed string lights lilting above the dance floor. She spotted a familiar suit and ponytail at the center of the floor, gyrating to the music. As she approached, Duncan’s back was to her, and when the music slowed, he reached for one of the bridesmaids and pulled her close, his legs disappearing into the violet satin of her skirt.
Alice’s chest tightened as she watched them dance. The woman rested her head on his chest. He leaned his head onto hers. Alice did not want to keep watching yet found herself unable to pull away. They looked natural together, as though they were already a couple, so much better than Alice and Duncan would have seemed had they been slow dancing together. When the song ended, the woman drew Duncan’s head down to kiss him.
It was not a gratuitous kiss. It was gentle, prim. Alice’s knees buckled. As she glanced around, she was not the only one staring. Some guests pretended to be indifferent while others outright glared at the bridesmaid as the kiss continued. They all seemed entranced, bewitched. This was not normal. Then something Duncan had said earlier sprang to mind, something she’d barely heard, distracted by thoughts of Carrie and Cal.
I’m surprised they didn’t do a signature cocktail, like Love Potion Number Nine or something.It had seemed like one of Duncan’s corny jokes, except it wasn’t. Coco’s story was about a love potion in a vial turned to sea glass. Had Duncan read the story? As she pictured the giddy women at the bindery and eyed the besotted ones watching him now, she realized that this romantic attention was the cumulative effect of her stories. Duncan had read them all.
Alice rushed over to the table for her purse. She grabbed it and headed toward the street.
“Alice,” she heard Duncan call out. She walked faster, unsteady in her heels. “Hey, Alice. Wait up.”
He caught up with her quickly, and Alice silently cursed Gabby for making her wear these ridiculous shoes that gave her height she didn’t need and a lack of coordination that made her vulnerable. He reached for her arm, but she shook him off.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” She bent down and slipped off the heels.
“You sure you want to walk barefoot? Santa Barbara’s clean and all, but these are still city streets.”
“I’m fine.” She started walking faster. Duncan darted in front of her, blocking her path.
