Page 65 of Wine & Dine

26

Cinderella and the fall

[Dolores]

My mouth falls open as I watch Garrett take a step backward, returning to the dance floor. I’ve held my breath the entire time he danced with Ingrid. They’d make a striking couple as she holds herself like a queen. She’s old money from New York, Garrett explained, and it’s a concept I can’t wrap my head around.

But this…this betrayal of him dancing with a second woman. I need some air.

I turn and nearly smack into Ingrid.

“I always thought they’d make a beautiful couple,” she says, positioning herself to face the dance floor, watching Garrett. A false smile graces her smooth cheeks. Her eyes are too tight for someone close to my age. “Then again, I thought he and I would do the same. But I was wrong.” She slightly turns, her eyes drifting over me. “The way he’s been looking at you. He can’t take his eyes off you.”

I look up to see Garrett looking in the general direction of where we stand, but we are shadowed by the dimness, all lighting focused on the dance floor. I don’t know how to respond to Ingrid, and suddenly, I feel myself slipping into Rusty-mode, accepting that my man might be sleeping with others and not doing a damn thing about it. I confronted Rusty a few times at the beginning of our loosely termed relationship, but over time, I fell into a rut of keeping my emotions in check if I wanted to sleep with him. I hate myself for the thought.

I should storm the dance floor and make a claim on Garrett, but I won’t. I don’t know that I have a claim on him.

“Who is she?”

“Alicia Graystone. They’ve been friends for years.”

I know the code for friends—friends with benefits. She’s probably been his plus-one to events, although Ingrid mentioned Garrett hasn’t brought someone to this gala in the past. As I watch them dance, I see the familiarity they have with one another’s body. The grace as they spin in unison, and my breath hitches. The dance lessons I took with Garrett flash before my eyes. Garrett was so practiced in his moves, and now I see why. He’s done it before.

She’s a project to him.

Oh my God, my brain screams.

“Ingrid, will you excuse me?”

Her pinched eyes narrow as she nods, and I walk in the direction of the restroom, but once I enter the hallway, I know there’s no turning back.

My fingers fumble in my clutch, trembling as I reach for my phone. I press the Uber app Garrett helped me install and type in my request. I almost fall down the stairs in my four-inch heels with a thin strap at the ankle. I hold my phone while I descend, and it rings in my palm. Thinking it’s Uber, I answer out of breath.

“Hello?”

“Dolores?”

“Mati?” I haven’t spoken to Mati in almost two months, and the twang of her Georgia accent brings tears to my eyes. “What’s wrong?” She never calls me, and especially knowing I’m not in Georgia, something bad had to have happened to warrant a call.

“Nothing’s wrong. Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I’m fine.” The familiar phrase tastes bitter on my tongue.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Mati,” I huff. “What did you call for? Did something happen to Magnolia? What about Denton?” My chest pinches as I haven’t been faithful about calling my grandmother. Denton and I did a brief Monday call check-in, and he assured me earlier this week that she was hanging in there despite my mother’s death.

“Everything’s fine. I just…Dolores, when will you be coming home?”

“I don’t know. Why? Mati, if something happened, you have to tell me. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“No, no. Don’t rush. It’s just…I probably shouldn’t be making this call, but I think you should come home.”

I pause as I step out into the cold California evening. I don’t even know how to properly identify an Uber, and with my luck, I’ll get into the wrong car, be kidnapped, and dumped on the side of the road. My mind races as my nerves ping-pong from this call. Something is not settling well in my stomach. If Mati says it isn’t Magnolia or Denton, what could it be?

“Is it Hollilyn? Did she burn down the diner?” I laugh without humor until I don’t hear any response. “Mati, what is it you aren’t saying?”

“I don’t want to upset Denton, but I just thought, woman to woman, you might want to know…you should probably be here, and soon.”

“It’s the diner, isn’t it?” Mati doesn’t say anything, and I have my answer.

“Did it burn to the ground?” My blood freezes in the cool California night as a car slows at the curb, and I read the plates. This is my ride.

“Nothing that extreme,” she mutters unconvincingly. “Don’t be mad, okay? He had good intentions. I just…I thought you’d want to know.”

“Mati, this is killing me.” I fall into the back seat of the sedan. I don’t need to speak to the driver as he already has my destination.

“Don’t worry. Please. I don’t want you to cut your time short if you aren’t ready to come back. I understand. I do.” And I know she does. When Mati lost her husband Chris, she folded into herself for a while.

“Hang on,” I say to Mati and then address the driver. “Can I change my destination to the airport?”

The Uber driver lifts a brow in the mirror and smiles. More money for him, I think. He tells me to cancel my ride and reschedule the airport. He’ll claim the job.

“Mati, I’m heading to the airport now.”

“Are you sure?” But she exhales a sigh of relief.

“I think it’s time I come home.” After this evening, there’s no place I’d rather be.