When the pianists caught sight of their table — tiaras, sashes, Pete waving like she was running for office — one leaned into the mic. “What are we celebrating here at Strangers in the Night?”
“Bachelorettes,” Maggie called out, pointing like the sashes and tiaras weren’t dead giveaways. “Two of them!”
The place erupted. The pianists launched into “Going to the Chapel,” the whole bar joining in. Pete climbed onto her chair to conduct, arms flailing, while Danica tried to yank her down by the wrist, giggling too hard to succeed.
Kiera slipped a twenty into the request jar, whispering to the pianist. A few songs later, the first chords of “My Girl” rang out, and Kiera took the stage. Her voice wobbled on the first line, but by the chorus she relaxed, her clear, warm alto carrying over the piano. The crowd swayed, clapping along, and Kiera — face flushed, eyes shining — kept her gaze locked on Izzy the whole time. Izzy looked like she might burst, clapping and singing harmony from their table.
The entire room was wrapped in that magic, so sweet, earnest, and nakedly romantic Gwen felt that longing pinch behind her ribs again.
Maggie sat back, sipping her glowing “Regrets” cocktail with a smirk, but Gwen didn’t miss the softness in her eyes as she watched.
When Kiera finished, the place roared, the pianists bowing like they’d orchestrated it themselves. Izzy pulled her offstage into a kiss that earned whistles from the bar.
Gwen clapped with everyone else, but her chest ached. She glanced at Maggie, already sliding out of her chair to dance when the pianists switched to Britney Spears.
Gwen couldn’t help it. She watched unashamedly. Maggie in full tilt was always magnetic, chaos wrapped in charisma.
The waitress returned with rainbow shots “compliments of the house.” Pete raised hers like a torch. “To friendship, chaos, and for this bar keeping all our secrets.”
They cheered, glasses clinking. Gwen tipped hers back without flinching. Maggie winced at hers, laughed, then steadied herself on Gwen’s shoulder as she set the glass down. The touch was casual, but Gwen felt it like a brand.
The pianists slid from Britney into Elton John, pounding the keys so hard the whole bar seemed to pulse with it. Maggie was already on her feet, tugging Pete up by the wrist. “Come on,” she shouted, grinning wild, blonde hair tumbling into her face.
Danica resisted for a second, laughing nervously, then let herself be pulled too. Even Kiera, still pink from her stint at the mic, got dragged into the fray, Izzy swooping behind her like backup. Soon half the group was in front of the stage, Maggie leading the charge, Pete shimmying badly, Izzy clapping on the wrong beat, Danica gamely swaying while Maggie spun her by the elbow.
Gwen stayed seated. She told herself it was because she didn’t dance, but the truth was, she couldn’t trust herself. Not with Maggie glancing back every few seconds like an invitation.
Izzy sat down beside her, flushed and breathless, short hair sticking to her temples. She grabbed a water glass and leaned back. “I’m not saying Kiera’s secretly a pop star, but…” She gestured toward the dance floor where Kiera was laughing, her wavy bob going wild with some hair tosses. “That was kind of incredible.”
“She did great,” Gwen said, meaning it.
Lillian slid gracefully into the empty chair on Gwen’s other side, her cocktail glass glowing faintly under the neon. “She looked radiant,” she said smoothly, watching Izzy watchKiera with a faint smile. “That’s what happens when someone adores you out loud.”
Izzy’s cheeks went pinker, and she ducked her head with a grin. “Yeah. I’m pretty lucky.”
Gwen sipped her water. Out on the dance floor, Maggie had Pete by both hands, spinning her until they were both doubled over with laughter. The crowd clapped along, happy to be collateral in their chaos.
Lillian, lounging with her elbow propped on the back of her chair, tilted her head. “So it’s new, then?”
Izzy blinked. “What is?”
“You two,” Lillian said smoothly, her smile faint but sly. “Getting together. You’ve got that shine. Honeymoon glow.”
Izzy laughed, startled. “Oh, uh yeah, I guess. New-ish. Not brand-new.” Her blush deepened as she tugged her napkin into her lap. “We’re newly engaged, actually.”
Lillian raised her glass in mock salute. “Savor it. I, meanwhile, ampainfullysingle. Watching you two is both charming and vaguely insulting.”
Izzy ducked her head again, laughing. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be.” Lillian’s eyes slid to Gwen, sharp even in the dim light. “What about you?”
Gwen stilled. “Me?”
Izzy perked up, suddenly quiet, as if she’d been waiting for someone else to broach it.
Gwen’s fingers tightened around her cool water glass. Out on the dance floor, Maggie was bent over laughing, hair sticking to her damp forehead, Pete clapping her on the back. She looked incandescent. She looked like everything Gwen both wanted and couldn’t have.
Lillian swirled the ice in her glass, eyes still on Gwen. “Yeah, how did you and Maggie meet?”
