Chapter Twenty
Alice wasn’t going to go inside the dance, but Karleigh showed up right as her shift ended and handed her a ticket for a free plate from the Dutch oven cook-off winner. “My dance partner had to go home; his mom got a migraine. Mom said not to let you leave without making sure you eat dinner.”
“I’m sorry about your date.” Alice stared at the ticket. She shouldn’t pass up the meal. She’d smelled the Dutch oven delicacies all night, and her mouth watered nonstop.
Until Russ showed up. Then she was as dry and awkward as ever.
“No worries. He’s off to college, and I have plans too. It was just a chance to hang out.”
“Those can be fun.”
She lifted a shoulder and shoved the ticket in Alice’s hand. “Get going before they run out.”
“I’m going.” Alice turned around. She kept her eyes off the dance floor just in case Russ and Gabriella were twirling up a storm, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.Russ and Gabriella. Ugh! They even sound cute together.Disgusting.
Someone shrieked, and Alice’s eyes jumped to find the source. Gabriella stood by the shredded pork barbeque table, a plate of food stuck to her chest. Russ was holding Grandma as if she’d tripped into him—which, by the surprised look on her face, she probably had.
Karleigh flipped around to see what the commotion was about. Alice ran over to help, and Karleigh was right on her heels. There was a small crowd of ghosts, goblins, and Power Rangers, but for the most part, the party was still going strong. The loud music must have drowned out Gabriella’s shriek.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked as she helped Grandma right herself.
“I’m embarrassed, is all.” She looked at Gabriella. “I’m so sorry about your shirt.”
“You should be!” Gabriella pried the plate off her front and whimpered at the pulled pork plastered across her chest like an advertisement for a barbeque pit.
Russ stood between Gabriella and Grandma, blocking Gabriella from saying anything else to the older woman. “Let’s head back to the hotel, and you can get cleaned up.”
Gabriella pointed over his shoulder. “This wouldn’t have happened if she watched where she was going.”
Alice put her arm around Grandma. “Don’t listen to her,” she said low.
“Let’s go, Gabriella. Before you embarrass yourself.” Russ put his hands on her shoulders and tried to propel her towards the door, but her spiky boots must have driven themselves into the floor, because she was immovable.
“Are you kidding?! She should be locked in a home—not endangering others.”
Alice’s hands curled into claws, and she growled low. No one—no one!—was mean to her grandma.
Russ’s face went hard. “You need to apologize. Mrs. Westbrook is a generous and sweet woman. Let’s go.”
“What? No.” Gabriella flicked her wrist. “If anyone needs to leave, it’sher.”
“She’s not the one making a scene,” Russ ground out.
Alice tossed her golden hair over her shoulder. She’d had enough of the pretend cowgirl. “She’s also not the one who attacked Harvest Ranch in a falsified newspaper article.”
Gabriella gasped.
“Yes, I figured out that it was you and not Russ who said those horrible things. Once Mr. McGee finds out that you misquoted and misled him, I’ve no doubt he’ll happily print a retraction.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw Russ place his hand over his heart as if her words had healed a wound. “Alice,” he whispered with such reverence she almost forgot about Gabriella. “How did you know?”
Glancing towards Russ, Alice smiled. “You would never use the wordoutlandishto describe Mr. Call’s pants.”
Russ stared at her in awe. “No, I wouldn’t.” He stepped towards her. “Alice, I—”
Alice didn’t get to hear the rest of Russ’s statement, because a piece of warm and spicy pork smacked against her cheek and then fell to the floor. Alas, forgetting Gabriella Green was in the room had been a huge tactical error.
Alice turned on her, shocked. “Did you just throw food at me?” She swiped her hand over her cheek, dislodging a piece of pork.
