The Strangers on Montagu Street (40 page)
Read The Strangers on Montagu Street Online
Authors: Karen White
Tags: #Romance, #Psychological, #Contemporary, #Fiction
I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders, yanking up the knot that held it together over my chest. “I feel like I’m naked,” I said.
“You look fabulous, Mellie,” my mother said, tugging at the knot to loosen it. “It’s too warm for this, and you’ll want your guests to admire your dress when you greet them. I’ll hang on to it in case it gets too cool for you after the sun sets, but I’ve instructed the band to play until midnight, so hopefully the dancing will keep you warm.”
Raising my eyes to the sky in resignation, I allowed my mother to remove my shawl.
My father gave a low whistle. “Did you pick that out for her, Ginny?”
“I sure did. And I’m sure you agree that she looks gorgeous in it.”
“Well, of course. But I wish I’d come prepared with a bat to prevent a stampede.”
I glanced at him doubtfully. “The only stampede will be a stampede of one as I hightail it back to Mother’s house to get a sweatshirt to cover myself.”
I let out a shriek as I felt my mother’s knuckle dig into my back between my shoulder blades. “What was that for?” I said, turning to her with a scowl.
“Just reminding you to keep your shoulders back and stop slouching like you’re embarrassed about what God gave you. You’re tall, slender, and beautiful. Now stop sulking and go work that dress. Jack could be here any minute.”
She sent me a knowing glance, then walked into the garden toward one of the tents that had been set up for food, and began giving last-minute instructions to the catering staff. I looked at my father, who just shrugged before following my mother. He called over his shoulder, “We’ll join you back here in about twenty minutes to help greet your guests. In the meantime, go have some punch and try to relax.”
It wasn’t until he’d said the word “relax” that I realized my jaw was hurting from clenching it. I spotted the tent where a bar had been set up along with a large silver punch bowl and cups. Although I’d never been much of a drinker, I did love sweets, and the pink, frothy punch bubbling inside the punch bowl made my mouth water. I ladled a large serving into a cup and drank it down in two gulps before pouring myself another. I just needed something to settle my nerves before I could face people while wearing the Dress. I was about to walk away before I decided on a third cup, telling myself it had nothing to do with the possibility that Jack might be there.
I heard a low wolf whistle and turned abruptly, nearly spilling the pink punch down the front of my dress. I watched as Sophie and Chad approached. At least, I assumed it was Sophie, since the woman with Chad had Sophie’s wild and curly dark hair and was wearing Birkenstocks.
“Dudette!” Chad said, giving me a quick hug. “You’re like one of those Amazon women but with clothes on.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think.”
“Sophie! I love your dress!” I couldn’t believe that those words were actually being strung together and coming out of my mouth.
“Thank you,” she said, making a little twirl to show off her navy blue satin Empire-style dress, complete with bow front and center. “It’s Lanvin, 1961. I figured after getting a secondhand wedding gown that used clothing was really the most eco way to go.”
I stared at her, speechless for a moment, trying to understand how Sophie could make couture eco-friendly.
Sophie continued. “Nola took me to an at-home trunk show for Library: Archives of Fashion—a company run by a local woman who travels all over the place finding old stuff. Do you really like it?”
I nodded, then stopped as I reached her shoes. “I probably would have suggested something different for your feet, but it’s definitely a start. You look great,” I said, hugging her. “And thanks for coming early to help my mother. She won’t let me do anything, so please direct all questions to her. I’m just here to be eye candy.” I didn’t bother to blush, figuring it was the punch that made me say it.
My mother turned from where it appeared she was rearranging cocktail napkins and called for Sophie and Chad. “Duty calls,” Sophie said. “Go ahead and try those soy grits with vegan biscuits at the food tent. To die for.”
I watched them walk away, then poured myself another glass of punch, determined to sip it slowly as I wandered around the garden, smelling the tea olives and admiring the lavender-colored creeping heliotrope that my father used as a summer fill-in for his parterres, and watching the last-minute preparations with a sense of remove. A small dais had been set up for a band in front of a hastily constructed dance floor that had been set above the brick patio to keep women’s heels from getting stuck in between the pavers.
Remembering the mural, I turned toward the back of the house to get a view of Nola and Alston’s artwork on the black tarp before everybody else did, not really sure what to expect. I started to laugh, probably from relief. Instead of the LA gang graffiti I’d imagined, the girls had managed to paint what looked like a wall of brick where the original bricks had once been but had been temporarily moved during the foundation work. They’d even painted clusters of Louisa rosebushes to make it more realistic. As the evening got darker and people had more to drink, it might even look like the real thing.
Nola and Alston walked by, both of them furiously texting on their phones—hopefully not to each other—and I called their names. “Nice work, girls,” I said, giving them both a thumbs-up. Their fingers paused long enough to wave, then continued their texting without skipping a beat.
My smile faded as I spotted Rebecca’s red Audi pulling up to the curb and I realized it was almost time for people to start arriving. I slugged back the rest of the punch and set my cup down before approaching the flower-filled arbor. I watched as Marc got out of the driver’s side of Rebecca’s car and moved to the passenger side and helped her out.
My heart beat sluggishly with a suspiciously sunken sort of feeling. If Rebecca was bringing Marc, then Jack must have decided not to come after all. I waited under the arbor as they approached, Marc looking handsome in a white dinner jacket and bow tie, and Rebecca as beautiful as ever in a pale pink silk gown with lots of sparkles and a halter top, her blond hair piled high on her head. I grudgingly admitted that they made a very good-looking couple, but I couldn’t understand why they were here together.
Marc looked up and saw me, then stumbled, making Rebecca frown as she also spotted me underneath the flowering arbor. A smile quickly replaced her frown as she reached me, air-kissing me on both cheeks.
“You look so cute tonight, Melanie.” Turning to Marc, she said, “Doesn’t she look just adorable?”
For the first time since I’d met Marc, he seemed to be at a loss for words. His jaw was moving and his mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.
With a little nudge from her elbow into his ribs, Rebecca continued. “That is just the sweetest dress. I think I saw that exact thing in the Sears window when I was there to buy a part for my washing machine. It’s amazing what you can find in that store!”
Marc’s eyes remained fixated on the bodice of the dress, to the spot where the plunging neckline ended in a deep vee. “It’s . . . very nice, Melanie. Very nice.” His voice sounded strange, like his bow tie might be too tight.
“‘One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun ne’er saw her match since first the world begun.’”
I twirled at the sound of Jack’s voice and found him standing directly behind me. He also wore a white dinner jacket, but instead of a tie, he wore the shirt with an open collar, his tanned chest dark against the bright white of his starched shirt. His chin and cheeks hinted of a shadow, and his hair was a little longer than I was used to seeing it. Marc scored more points on the
GQ
scale, with his impeccable grooming and outfit, but Jack was off the charts in pure animal sex appeal. He placed his hand on my hip, then drew me closer for a proprietary kiss on my temple. “Happy birthday, Mellie.”
GQ
scale, with his impeccable grooming and outfit, but Jack was off the charts in pure animal sex appeal. He placed his hand on my hip, then drew me closer for a proprietary kiss on my temple. “Happy birthday, Mellie.”
I was glad my mother had taken my shawl, because even without it I was pretty sure I could feel myself melting. “Thank you,” I said, my voice breathless.
“Quoting torrid romance novels, Jack?” Marc asked, a smug smirk hugging his lips.
“Actually, that would be Shakespeare, from
Romeo and Juliet
. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.” Jack continued to stand where he was with his hand on my hip, my right side pressed up against him. I didn’t think to move away.
Romeo and Juliet
. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.” Jack continued to stand where he was with his hand on my hip, my right side pressed up against him. I didn’t think to move away.
Rebecca looked surprised and a little embarrassed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Jack.”
Jack sent her and Marc a languorous perusal. “Apparently. Guess it’s not too hard to find a date replacement who owns a dinner jacket in this town.”
Rebecca at least had the decency to look repentant. She took a step toward Jack. “I’m sorry. I just . . .”
Marc took her arm and gently pulled her back. “Don’t waste your breath, Becca. Come on; let’s go get a drink.” He leaned in and gave me a lingering kiss on my cheek. Pulling back, he said, “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling the wetness on my cheek as he walked away with Rebecca.
“Want this?”
I turned to see Jack holding up his pocket square.
“Thanks,” I said, gently dabbing at the wet spot on my cheek so I wouldn’t mess up the painstakingly applied makeup that had taken nearly two hours. Folding it neatly, I tucked it back into his jacket pocket, then clasped my hands behind my back, not knowing where else to put them. “You came,” I said.
“Yep. I got tired of fielding calls from my mom, your mom, Sophie, and Nola. I figured it would just be easier to show up. Didn’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the next week, waiting for the dart to hit.” His old smile brightened his face. “Besides, you mentioned there would be lots of food. Didn’t want to miss that.”
I blushed, remembering that time at his condo when I couldn’t shut myself up. “Yeah, there’s that. And Nola is here, and your parents are coming, too.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind my coming over here to chat instead of just waving from across the canapés, like you suggested.”
My blush deepened. “There is no need to remember and repeat everything I say, all right? But, yes, I’m glad you interrupted my conversation with Rebecca and Marc. I don’t think I’ve ever met two more annoying people.”
A dark shadow passed behind his eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to say something. When it looked like he was about to turn away, I blurted, “Is everything okay?”
“If you mean between Rebecca and me, it’s over. It has been for a long time. I guess I was just waiting for her to make the first move.”
“You mean
she
broke up with
you
? Has that ever happened to you before?” I tried to keep the giddiness and relief out of my voice.
she
broke up with
you
? Has that ever happened to you before?” I tried to keep the giddiness and relief out of my voice.
“Once or twice.” He smirked, but his eyes remained somber.
I paused for a moment. “But there’s something else that’s bothering you,” I said, wishing I knew why it was so important that he tell me.
“I heard from my agent today.”
My eyes widened. “That’s good news, right?”
“Depends. If you consider being able to keep a sizable advance without having the book published, I guess you would call it good news.”
“What do you mean, they’re not going to publish it? Did they have a problem with it? I mean, you’ve got a huge fan following waiting for that book.”
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to look nonchalant. “Yes, well, apparently another author beat me to the punch with a very similar story that they thought would sell better.”
I digested that for a moment. “But they still want your next book, right?”
He snorted. “What next book? I’ve been so engrossed in finding out what was going on with this book that the next idea isn’t even a twinkle in my eye yet.”
Our eyes met and I knew we were thinking the same thing. “No,” he said before I could say anything. “I’m not that desperate that I’d write a book that would make your family hate me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. Like my mother could ever hate you.”
He gave me an odd look. “Just your mother?”
I was about to retort when I noticed that his gaze was fixated at about the same spot Marc’s had been. “Did you really get your dress at Sears?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows. “No.” I cleared my throat, not sure whether I was supposed to block his view or offer to twirl to give him a better look. Instead, I reverted to what I’d always relied on and what I prided myself at being good at—the business at hand. “Did you see today’s paper?”
He raised his eyes to mine, an amused smile on his lips. “About the bodies found on the Manigault property? Yeah, I did. I was thinking I needed to go down there and have a look. For curiosity’s sake. And then go back to Julia and ask her to come clean with everything she’s not telling us.”
“Can I go with you?” I said the words without thinking, but was rewarded with his Jack smile, the one he used on the back cover of his books that made the female population think crazy thoughts.
The air between us lay heavy with the scents of flowers and his cologne and something else, too. Something I couldn’t name, but something primeval that saturated the earth and the space between us. I imagined the air trembling around us, wrapping us in its cocoon, where the past was forgotten and all that mattered was Jack and me. And I could have sworn that somewhere behind the tall, spindly cedars, where the sun’s rays had begun their first retreat, I heard my grandmother’s voice saying my name. Not as a scold, but more as a reassurance.
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