Page 47

“We found gold today, and all those two want to do is slow dance,” Teddy says, and I’m not sure if he’s marveling or complaining. Huck and I turn to watch them.

“I don’t know,” Huck says. “I think it’s nice.”

“To each their own, I guess,” Teddy replies. “Different strokes for different folks…unless you want me to whirl you around the dance floor, Stella?”

The temperature has dropped, and I shiver in the soft breeze. “Maybe in a minute,” I say. “I think I’m going to ask the waitress for a hot tea to warm up.”

“Have more champagne,” Ted says. “That will help.”

“I can get the tea for you,” Huck says. “I was going to find the restroom anyway. What kind of tea do you like?”

“Mint, any kind.”

“Sure thing.”

I watch Huck wander across the patio. His walk is smooth and easy; as he moves, he looks around at the trees and the lights with a kind of wonderment.

Someone stops him for a picture, and he obliges, smiling.

Up until this moment, I’d almost forgotten that he’s famous, that at one point, I might’ve stopped him at a restaurant to ask him for a picture.

The group at the adjacent table swarms him, engaging him in an animated conversation. He’s nodding along.

“Should we go rescue him?” I ask.

Teddy looks up from his shrimp. “Probably. Sully hates crowds. That’s why he doesn’t do events.”

“He doesn’t like being the center of attention?”

Teddy picks up a shrimp and bites it down to the tail.

“No. Honestly, I don’t think he likes being perceived.

His dad was an absolute asshole and never missed an opportunity to tear Sully down.

He had this way of saying Huck’s real name…

Henry…with such disgust, it even made my skin crawl.

Anyway, before Sully finished the last Casablanca, his father accosted him at a signing to tell him how ashamed he was of him because of something he’d done.

I don’t know all of the details, but Sully didn’t do any events after that. ”

I thought about what the lady in the bookstore in Wilmington had said about trying to get Huck to come for an event and how his publisher had declined. But now that I thought of it, I hadn’t seen anything about him being on tour. His cardboard likeness was everywhere but he was not.

“I’ll go over there in a minute,” Teddy says. “I’m just going to finish my food first.”

I glance over at Huck. The volume of the group has risen and more people have joined in the circle that surrounds him.

“When’s the next book coming out?” a woman wearing a flashy hot pink jumpsuit that leaves very little to the imagination practically shouts.

“Not as long in between this new series and the last one I hope, though I suppose it’s good that you took your time.

The last Casablanca was so awful; this one is so much better.

” It’s at this point that Huck casts a furtive glance over at me.

I recognize the slight furrow in his brow, his hand on the back of his neck, the way he’s shifting his weight on his feet.

Now he’s running his hands through his hair.

Teddy’s stuffs another shrimp in his mouth. “Last one,” he says, mouth full. He starts to stand.

I propel myself out of my seat. “I got it.”

The breeze lifts my hair and my gold skirt flutters as I stride toward Huck. When I arrive, I insert myself into the circle. I stand slightly in front of Huck and slide my arm through his, my version of a territorial girlfriend. He stills, the tension in his body uncoiling.

“Sorry to interrupt, babe,” I say. “I was just wondering about that tea. The waitress never came back.”

He blinks at me. “Of course, ah, sweetheart. Why don’t we go check on that together?” He unwinds my arm from his and takes my hand as we start toward the restaurant. “Forgive us,” Huck says to the group. “Have a lovely evening.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Lucky Malone?” Pink Jumpsuit says.

“I am Lucky Malone,” I call over my shoulder.

Inside, Huck and I duck into a quiet back hallway. We both lean back against a wall, decompressing. He’s still holding on to my hand. After several moments of quiet, Huck breaks the silence. “?‘I am Lucky Malone.’?” We both burst out laughing.

“ What ?” I say when I catch my breath. “That lady was really rude about your last book. I saw the opportunity to get under her skin and I took it. It’s a bold person to critique another person’s art while rocking that degree of camel toe.”

Huck shakes his head. “It was fucking amazing.” After a few moments, his laughter winds down.

I tilt my head and look up at him. “Are you okay? Teddy told me you don’t like crowds.”

He nods. “I’m okay now. Thanks to you for rescuing me. You really are a hero.”

“That’s Lucky Fucking Malone to you, mister.”

Huck still hasn’t broken eye contact. We haven’t looked at each other like this, not since Iceland.

His pale blue eyes are like memories trapped in the ice, thawing out with each second that passes, with us standing so close to each other.

It seems strange after such a short time together last year that I missed him as much as I do.

He’s right here now and I still miss him.

His warm hand is holding mine and I miss him.

I pull in a deep breath. One of us has to look away.

It should be me. I need to call uncle before this barely healed wound I have from him opens and all of our memories spill out.

One hard swallow. One deep breath to steady myself and then I will look away.

“What did Ted say exactly?”

“Pretty much what you told me…your dad was pretty tough on you.”

Huck’s laugh is tight, miserable.

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Sometimes I think his goal in life was making sure I never forgot just how big of a disappointment I was. And man, did he love an audience.”

Even though I promised I wouldn’t, I hold his gaze. I wait for him to go on.

“Just now, I wanted to tell those people that I had somewhere to be, but I couldn’t move.

This time it’s nothing, just some pictures and a bit of criticism, and I can handle it.

I should be able to handle it…but…” He looks down at the floor.

I step around in front of him and fill his line of sight with me.

And I’m patient while he finds the right words to tell me his story.