Page 27 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)

J ack turned at the sound of the shout, half expecting to see one of his old fraternity brothers sticking a frog down someone’s shirt.

What he didn’t expect to see was Allie looking like she’d just run through a lawn sprinkler in her dress. Standing beside her was his late wife’s sister. From the look on her face, Missy was extremely mad or extremely drunk. Maybe both.

Abandoning his spot in line, he sprinted across the room.

“—and a whore and a tramp and a skank-wad and a hussy and a?—”

“Try harlot,” Allie offered, swiping a wet curl off her forehead and shooting Jack a warning look before turning back to face Missy. “And maybe charlatan. That’s always been one of my favorites.”

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked. “Allie, are you okay?”

“Oh, right!” Missy snarled. “It’s all about how your slut is doing. Not about my sister!” She sputtered and grabbed the edge of the table, swaying like a whiskey-soaked daisy in a windstorm.

Allie looked remarkably calm for a woman fending off an attack from an intoxicated stranger. She wrung something that smelled like Chardonnay from her hair and turned to look at Jack. “Your sister-in-law came over to introduce herself. It seems Missy is upset by my presence here this evening.”

“Bitch!” Missy snapped, then kicked off her shoes. She started to topple, and Jack reached out to steady her. She shook off his hand and glared at him, then jabbed a finger into his chest. “And you’re a traitor!”

“Missy,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “What are you doing here? Your mom said you guys were stuck in Cleveland.”

“You wish!” she slurred. Jack drew his hand back, and Missy turned the wagging finger on Allie, swaying there for a moment with the digit wiggling like a hooked worm. Allie just stood there, her expression as calm and unruffled as if Missy had just asked for her goulash recipe.

“I really like that color of nail polish,” Allie said. “OPI, right?”

“Scallop!” Missy shouted.

Allie seemed to consider that. “Is that a cross between a skank and a trollop?”

“Slut!”

“That’s good, but you already used it.” Her expression was calm and surprisingly considerate. “Did you want to give it another shot?”

The room around them had gone silent, with everyone turning to stare. Jack stepped closer to Allie and lowered his voice. “I’m so sorry. Missy’s um—had a little trouble since her sister passed. And I didn’t expect?—”

“It’s okay,” Allie said, wiping another wet curl off her forehead as she kept a wary eye on Missy. “These things happen.”

Jack found that hard to believe, but maybe Allie had wine dumped over her head more often than he did. He grabbed a black cloth napkin off the table beside them and handed it to her. He knew he owed about a thousand apologies to everyone here, but he had no idea where to start.

Allie took the napkin without comment, and Jack tried not to stare as she mopped at her cleavage.

Missy rocked unsteadily on her feet. “How dare you!”

It wasn’t clear who she was speaking to, but since the conflict clearly stemmed from Jack, he figured he owed it to them to step in. “Missy, how about we talk about this like?—”

“Liar!” she snapped. “You said you’d love her forever and ever and ever and ever and no one else. No one!”

“Right, and I had every intention of doing that, but?—”

“Missy?”

They both turned to Allie, who had finished mopping off. She set the napkin down and looked straight at Jack’s former sister-in-law. “I’d really like to hear about your sister,” she said. “She sounds like an amazing woman. What can you tell me about her?”

“She wasn’t you!”

“That’s true,” Allie agreed, shooting a warning glance at two of Jack’s fraternity brothers who looked like they might be plotting to wrestle the inebriated woman to the ground.

Allie shook her head, and the two men fell back, looking as baffled as Jack felt.

“What are some of the things you loved most about your sister?”

“She was smart,” Missy slurred. “And pretty. Prettier than you! And so funny and nice and—” her eyes went a little glazed, and she seemed to trail off in mid-thought.

Allie gave an encouraging nod, and took a step toward her. “What do you say we find you someplace to sit down and?—”

“No!” She smacked Allie’s hand away, and the two fraternity brothers moved forward again. Allie gave them a warning look, but stayed where she was.

“We need to fight!” Missy announced.

“Okay, Missy,” Jack warned. “That’s enough. Why don’t we?—”

“Are you envisioning a fistfight?” Allie asked calmly. “Or were you thinking of something like fencing or maybe a duel? You have very nice muscle tone, so arm wrestling would be a bit unfair, but I’m open to negotiation.”

“Fight!” Missy insisted, wobbling again as she took a step toward Allie. “Gotta defend my sister’s honor.”

Allie put her hands out, but the gesture seemed less like self-defense and more like an effort to show she was unarmed. “Of course,” Allie agreed, taking a small step back. “But neither of us is dressed for a really good fight at the moment.”

Missy stopped moving and looked down at her dress. It was blue and shimmery and a little rumpled. “Huh,” she said.

“Tell you what,” Allie said. “Let me take a look at my schedule, and we’ll find a time that works for both of us to brawl. Sound okay to you?”

Jack stared at her, too dumfounded to say anything. Missy stood frowning in concentration, and Jack had a strange hunch Allie’s strategy was actually working.

Allie reached behind her for the beaded handbag she’d brought with her, keeping one eye on Missy the whole time. Jack stepped closer, ready to intervene if Missy pounced.

But Missy had gone quiet. As Allie pulled out her phone, Jack’s former sister-in-law watched with intense concentration. “Let’s see, I’m pulling up my calendar,” Allie said.

Jack squinted at the screen Allie had pulled up. He half expected to see her dialing 9-1-1, but honest to God, she’d pulled up her calendar. “It looks like I’m open next Tuesday or Wednesday after five,” she said. “Would either of those times work for you?”

Missy frowned, then looked down at her hands. “I forgot my phone.”

“No problem. You can let me know later.”

“Oh my God, Missy!”

Jack turned to see Missy’s husband, Gary, rushing into the room. He wore a gray suit and a look of utter horror. “Honey, we talked about this,” he said as he rushed to her side. “I just called a cab and it’ll be waiting out front in five minutes. Why don’t we go out and get some fresh air?”

Missy stared up at her husband, then gave a feeble nod. “Okay.”

Jack’s former brother-in-law turned to him and gave an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry. I only left her here for a couple minutes so I could call a cab?—”

“It’s fine,” Jack said. “I know she’s had a tough time.”

Gary turned to Allie and raked his fingers through his hair. “I want to apologize on my wife’s behalf. She’s not normally like this. She had a little too much to drink and?—”

“Not a problem,” Allie said, slipping her phone back into her bag. “I’ve had to handle similar situations before.”

Jack frowned. “You’ve fended off other attacks by drunk sisters of your ex-fiancé’s late-wife?”

Allie gave him a look. “I said similar, not identical.”

“Really, I’m so very sorry.” Gary looked around, seeming to realize for the first time that they’d become the center of attention. “I’m going to get her back to the hotel now.”

Jack stepped aside to let them pass. “Good to see you, man,” he murmured. “Maybe we can grab pizza or something if you’re in town for a few days. Paige would love to see you guys.”

Gary grimaced. “Maybe when she sobers up.”

“Good plan.”

The whole room stared as Gary and Missy made their way to the door. As soon as they disappeared through it, everyone began murmuring again. Jack stepped closer to Allie, not sure where to begin.

“That was unbelievable,” he said.

“Well, she’s grieving. People do strange things when they?—”

“No, I meant you.” Jack shook his head. “Diffusing the situation like that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thanks.” Allie smiled and peeled the sticky top of her dress away from her chest. “I’ve done a lot of coursework in handling workplace conflict.”

“The way you negotiated with her—you would have been an incredible lawyer.”

Her smile vanished and she gave him a cool look. “Well now I’m an incredible Certified Association Executive,” she said. “And I happen to be pretty good at it.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said quickly, pissed at himself for managing to offend her. “I didn’t mean to suggest that being an attorney is the only good use for conflict-management skills. I just meant that was pretty impressive.”

“Thanks.” Allie peeled the dress off her chest again, then seemed to give up. She sighed and glanced around the room. “Those books we were talking about earlier with Botox and Silver Sequins—the ones by Vivienne Brandt?”

Botox? Silver Sequins? “Oh—you mean Stacey and Jen?”

“Whatever.” Allie mopped at her arms with a napkin.

“I’ve learned a lot from Dr. Viv about responding with empathy to people going through difficult stuff.

Between reading self-help stuff like that and having to deal with drunk, entitled doctors, I’m not to shabby at handling people who are having a hard time. ”

“Not too shabby is the understatement of a lifetime.” God, she was amazing.

Still mopping her cleavage, Allie shrugged. “I hope that didn’t embarrass you too much.”

“Me? You’re the one who had wine dumped over your head. I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s okay. Any idea where the restroom is? I might need some wet paper towels before I turn into a sticky mess.”

Jack slid an arm around her shoulder, not caring that the wine soaked through his sleeve. “I think fate is trying to tell me something.”

Allie stared up at him, her expression wary. “What’s that?”

“That I’m not meant to be at my reunion.”