“Sounds like a plan.” Kirra handed her the key. “Do you want your lemon slice to go?”
“If you don’t mind.” Allie eyed Kirra’s angular shape, funky and somehow graceful in her polka dot dress and woolly cardigan. “I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.” She’d already met some of the other sistergirls and brotherboys who would be on the Bundjalung float. It would be colourful and joyful—exactly the thing to lead the parade.
Kirra fluttered her fingers in reply.
The apartment was neat, clean, and welcoming. Allie set her bag on the bed and returned to the car for her box of snacks and wine. Was it too early for wine? She smiled. She was in charge here, and she’d just made an executive decision it definitely was not. She poured a glass of dry rosé and took it to the balcony with a bag of chicken-flavoured chips.
She was contemplating a second glass when someone standing in the middle of the street waving their arms caught her eye. She stood for a better look. A chubby Asian man with tufty dark hair sticking up like a toilet brush was staring in her direction.
“Sophie,” he shouted in an exasperated tone. “I’ve been ringing the bell and shouting for the last five minutes.”
Oh! Sophie.Of course. Her sister’s name was now hers again. “Sorry, I was dreaming. One moment.” She ran down the stairs and opened the door.
Up close, his exasperation was replaced by a beaming smile. “I thought you were ignoring me. I’m Garrett, Will’s partner.”
Better not explain she just wasn’t used to the name. “Come in.”
“I’m part of the committee for the fake wedding and the afterparty.”
“How’s that going?” One part of her mind registered Garrett’s presence here meant the answer wasn’t going to be “fine.”
“Call off Phyllis, and it will be going well.” Garrett flung himself onto the couch and immediately bounced up again. “Ooh, pink wine. My favourite.”
Allie took the hint and fetched him a glass.
“I’m pretty good at corralling Phyll, but it’s a full-time job. But that’s not why I’m here. Would you like to come to dinner with me and Will tomorrow night? No festival talk, just good food, excellent wine, and a short walk home. Please say yes.” He made puppy dog eyes.
Allie laughed. “That would be wonderful. I haven’t had a purely social evening here. What can I bring?”
Garrett took a gulp of wine. “Just your beautiful self and a bottle of this beautiful wine.”
“I can do that.”
Garrett wrote their address on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “Seven?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Garrett.”
He tipped the rest of the wine into his mouth and left, bounding down the stairs.
* * *
Tarryn parked her truck outside Will and Garrett’s place. Although they often invited her for dinner, tonight’s invitation had been oddly specific:Seven. Don’t be late. Bring pie—something lemon.She picked up the six-pack of craft beer, and the lemon meringue pie she’d bought from Kirra and walked through the front yard to their door.
Will answered, an apron wrapped around his lanky frame. “Pie.” He swooped in to kiss her cheek. “You are my best girl.”
She laughed and handed it over before following him into the living area. The table was set for four.
Tarryn swung around and glared at Will. “You promised you’d never set me up with anyone again.”
He raised his hands and backed away. “I promised. Garrett didn’t.”
“I plead the fifth. Or is it eighth?” Garrett said.
Tarryn set down the beer. “Who is it? A lonely waif-like student of Garrett’s, who’s in town for a few days and needs a tour guide? Or a woman abruptly dropped from her motorcycle gang when she traded the Harley for a Subaru?”
“Neither. And you’re jumping to conclusions. This isn’t a set-up. Well, not exactly.”
Tarryn thrust her jaw forward. “Who?”
