I tip my head at her. “You’d do Jughead? The dude that wore a crown?”
She giggles. “On second thought, maybe not.”
A waiter comes by, and after taking our glasses he gives us fresh ones. I raise my glass to her. “Here’s to more laughs and spills tonight.”
She lifts hers. “Here, here.”
“I’ve got to say, I thought it was tacky when your ex gave me his business card. Is he always like that?”
“Always working? I bet you thought I was exaggerating. Well, I promise you, I wasn’t.”
“Wow. That sucks.”
She nods. “It does. I did’t care how much money he was making. I mean I work hard, but I want to have fun, too. Otherwise what’s the point?”
“Exactly.”
“You know that’s how I ended up with the house. He got it cheap because it needed a ton of repairs. He lied to the old lady who sold it to him and said he’d move his “family” in when all along he planned to tear it down and build a McMansion. When the neighbors found out about it they fought him hard with the city council.”
“Good for them,” I say. “Those kind of developers are despicable.”
“Yeah . . . and he doesn’t know that I gave them ammunition to fight him. I love that house and I hated what he did to that sweet old lady. Eventually he gave up fighting them and let me have the house in the divorce instead of a bigger chunk of his money.”
“So you won and the neighborhood won, too.”
She nods. “And the best part is the neighbors all love me for it.”
“You’re a clever woman, Ms. Elle Jacoby.”
She stands up straighter and her smile lights up the courtyard. “Thank you.”
Elle looks off to the far side of the gathering, apparently making sure her ex isn’t close by. “So Stella’s fiancé, I mean husband, told her that Daniel and Veronica met at work.”
“Really? DD and Pinchy?”
She blinks at me rapidly. “Excuse me?”
“Those are my new nicknames for them.”
I love watching her laugh as I explain the references. This time it takes her almost a minute to recover.
She presses her hand over her stomach after she’s caught her breath. “Pinchy evidently is a mortgage broker.”
I nod. “She looks like one.”
She steps close to me and kisses me on the cheek while squeezing my shoulder. “I can’t believe you! I was dreading tonight and I’m having the best time.”
“I told you I loved weddings. The material to work with is endless.”
So whomever is paying for this shindig is loaded. Dinner is big portions of steak and lobster. I pity the pale-faced vegetarian girl sitting across from me with her tragic steaming plate of vegetables. This is probably the best wedding food I’ve ever had. The wine is also flowing freely so we’re feeling no pain.
Elle was nervous about giving her speech but she does a super job, telling cute, single-girl stories from her and Stella’s party years that segue to her being overjoyed that Stella has found her prince. She looks relieved when she sits back down at our table.
I lean in close to her. “You did great!”
She glances over at me with big eyes. “You really think so? You aren’t just saying that?” she whispers.
“I swear. And may I also say that you are by far the prettiest girl here.”
She turns to look at me and studies me silently with her lips pressed together and her eyebrows scrunched. Why is she suddenly so serious?
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know. You’re different tonight. What’s up?”
That damn girl-radar. She’s onto me. I stumble to recover. I don’t want to give up my game just yet.
“Nothing’s up. I’m just having fun. This is a great wedding!” I give her a goofy grin, and after watching me for another long second she takes a sip of wine and settles back in her chair.
Pinchy comes over to our table to say something to the woman sitting directly across from us. The woman nods and Pinchy heads back to the wedding party’s table.
“I wonder if she’s really smart,” Elle says with a pensive look on her face.
“Why do you care?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Oh, I don’t really, but Daniel always made me feel like I didn’t work hard and that I wasn’t smart enough.”
“You?” I ask, not hiding my disbelief at the dickwad’s gall.
She drinks more wine and I’m worried we’re about to head down emo road. When she isn’t looking I move her glass over behind mine.
“He also thought something was wrong with me because I liked sex so much.”
“Well, I think something was wrong with him because he didn’t,” I reply.
“He implied once it was low class.”
“Chalk up number forty-seven on the idiot tally.”
“The final straw was that he kept putting off having kids even though he understood how much I wanted them. He knew about my insecurities from my childhood, and told me he didn’t think I could handle a baby.”
My fingers curl into fists and I feel my pulse pounding in my forehead.
She looks over at me with an alarmed expression. “What, Paul?”
“You need to stop, okay? Because right now I’m amped up enough to beat the shit out of him and then he won’t be Dashing Daniel anymore unless he has deep pockets for plastic surgery.”
She gasps and shakes her head.
Resting my hands on her shoulders, I rub my thumbs over her soft skin. “Please change the subject, okay?”
She blinks rapidly and then her eyes dart around nervously before she leans into me. “I’ve got it. Did you hear what outrageous thing the Bruins did to the Tommy Trojan sculpture yesterday?”
I grin and gesture for her to bring it on.
That’s my girl.
Lots of wine at weddings can lead to some clueless dancing and this wedding is no exception. While out on the dance floor I’ve finally discovered the second thing DD doesn’t do well, after being a crap husband . . . is dancing. He looks like he has a Paul Bunyan-sized stick up his ass. I take great pleasure in watching him embarrass himself.
It’s a different story on our side of the dance floor. I know I’m a good dancer, and Elle’s an even better one, so her sexy moves inspire me to be my best. I catch people watching us move together. Yeah, take notes people. This is how it’s done.
When the music finally slows, I’m so charged up that my nerve endings are sparking. There’s an awkward moment when Elle asks if I’d rather sit the slow stuff out but I answer her by pulling her into my arms.
I shake my head at her slowly as we start to sway. “You’re not getting away from me.”
“Who said I wanted to?”
The corners of my mouth turn up. I’m liking this. There’s a feeling in the air, a current of possibilities as Billie Holiday serenades us under the golden light. I’m just buzzed enough to feel reckless but not wrecked, and I’ve got the most beautiful woman in my arms. I’m liking this a lot.
She trails her fingers up the buttons of my dress shirt and tugs on my collar which pulls the shirt open where I’ve undone a few buttons. “Hey, where’s your bowtie?”
I nod back toward our table. “In my jacket pocket. Why? Are you missing it?”
“Nope. Not one bit . . . I like your sleeves rolled up. You and your sexy, strong arms.”
“You know I wasn’t teasing earlier, right? You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
She grins. “Well, except for the bride of course.”
“Bride, what bride?”
She pushes me on the shoulder and gives me a side look. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were working on getting laid tonight.”
“Hmmm,” I say as I slowly spin her around. “What if that wasn’t all I wanted?”
“You know you don’t have to work it so hard with me, right? Just say the word . . .”
“What fun is it if you haven’t worked for it . . . earned it?”
“Earned? Let’s not even go there . . . I owe you so much. Everything really.”
Leaning into me, she rests her head on my chest and I hold her tighter as we take small steps.
I don’t know if this weird feeling comes over me because I’m in an unfamiliar place and surrounded by people I don’t know, or that we’re dressed like movie stars at a premier—but I feel like I’ve stepped into a different reality. I close my eyes and rest my chin on top of Elle’s head, trying to get my bearings. She holds onto me tighter as if she senses I need reinforcement.