The evening of the gala, Colin tugged his black tie, assessing the straightness of the bow. He supposed it would do. He knew from long experience that the first try was almost always the best. Better to leave it alone. Shrugging his tuxedo jacket on, he grimaced. It was a touch too tight. He should have heeded Brandon’s warning.
Well, no help for it now.
Frowning at his reflection, he mused that he was overdue for a haircut. Alicia was going to think he was a complete prat at this rate. He stepped away from the full-length mirror and assessed the totality of his appearance.
Clean shaven. Hair too long but brushed back into some semblance of order. Spotless shirt-front, passably tied bow tie, suit jacket a hair too snug.
It would have to do.
Giving his tie one last pat, he glanced out the bedroom window to the street. His limo was waiting.
Showtime.
Alicia considered her reflection, turning one way and then the other. The dress fit like it had been made for her. The long slit on the side of the skirt was slightly less provocative than the trend for dresses that were slashed up the front, but her shiny, red patent-leather pumps were sufficiently eye catching. Her hair, recently cropped at the back and trimmed at the top, spilled over her darkly made up eyes. Sliding deep red lipstick over her lips, she considered the effect and smiled, capping the lipstick and dropping it into her bag.
The doorbell chimed through the apartment. Alicia tossed her head back and strode to the front door. Opening it, her breath caught in her throat. Colin in black tie was…well, breathtaking. His jacket was maybe a bit too tight across his shoulders and biceps, but she wasn’t complaining. His black hair, waving back from his forehead, was just long enough that Alicia felt a craving to run her fingers through it and tug.
Hard.
“Hi,” she said, feeling foolish.
“Hello,” he said. His eyes were huge and dark. He offered his arm.
Alicia slid her fingers into the crook of his elbow and let him lead her to the waiting town car.
At the sidewalk, Colin nodded to the driver holding the door open and handed Alicia into the car. Walking around the car, he let himself in the other side and settled in beside her as the driver resumed his seat and pulled away from the curb. Colin’s tie felt too tight, his throat constricted. He resisted the urge to run his fingers around his collar and looked sideways at Alicia. She was regarding him, her large eyes shadowed in the dark car.
He cleared his throat. “My compliments on the frock. It is…exquisite.”
Alicia smiled and smoothed a hand down the skirt. “It’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned,” she said.
“I’m honored that you wore it to attend this, then.”
She glanced up, her eyes creasing with humor. “I bought it to attend this.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “So, what are you going to do now that the run of the play is over? You mentioned that you would probably go home to New York.”
“Home.” She gave a dry chuckle. “No, actually I’ve lined up another job here.”
Colin filed her strange initial reaction away for inquiry later. He was buoyed by the idea that she would stay on for a while longer. “Really? What is that?”
“Cable drama. Political. Go figure, I’m going to be playing a congresswoman.”
“Why ‘go figure’? You would make a brilliant congresswoman.”
Alicia shot him a hard look. “Right. You mean I’d fake a brilliant congresswoman. No education, remember?” Her hand rubbed up and down the leather seat. Colin captured her restless fingers and held them.
“No, I mean you would make a brilliant congresswoman. You are smart and resourceful. What is education but structure to help you learn? You learned so much without it, and that is so much harder.”
“That’s kind of you.”
Colin’s teeth gritted together. Why didn’t she get it? “It’s true. Education does a lot of things, but most of them aren’t what you think they are.”
“And what are they?”
“Structure. Access. Context. And the more prestigious the institution, contacts.”
“Prestigious like Oxford and Georgetown?”
“For two examples. But education is not always about learning.”
“If you say so.” She looked skeptical, but Colin fancied he could also see a glimmer of hope in her expression that was illuminated by the lights flashing by the car’s windows. The limo slowed and pulled under a portico in front of the hotel. The driver hurried out and was holding Alicia’s door by the time Colin had come around to her side of the car. She demurely allowed him to hand her out of the limo and rose to her feet, spine straight. Shooting him a mischievous smile that made his collar feel tight again, she tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow.
“Shall we?” he asked. She nodded.
“Let’s get this fancy party started.”
Alicia’s impressions of the hotel where the gala was being held were confused; it was all a bit overwhelming. A lobby with a soaring atrium, a brisk walk to the elevators that whisked them to the ballroom level, then…people. So many people. The ballroom was crowded with gowns and tuxedos. Alicia’s pulse accelerated. She was out of her element. Someone was going to point a finger and accuse her of being a fraud any minute.
Deep breath. She was probably wearing the most beautiful dress in the room. She lifted her chin and glanced over at Colin, who smiled and pressed his elbow to his ribcage, squeezing her hand that still rested there.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied.
“Well then, let’s go meet the kids.”
That’s right. Tonight is about the brilliant teenagers. A series of posters thick with information was set up in the back of the ballroom. Next to each poster was a nervous-looking adolescent in formalwear, some alone and looking around the room, some chatting with adults who had stopped to talk to them.
Colin stopped in front of a young woman in a bright fuchsia gown. Alicia glanced at the poster and froze. It was as if it were written in another language. But then again, Alicia guessed that science was essentially a foreign language to her.
“Good evening…” Colin’s eyes flicked to the poster. “Gina. I’m Colin, and this is Alicia. Your research looks impressive, but I’m lamentably ignorant about…” His eyes flicked across the poster again. “…RNA expression. Can you explain this to someone who disappointed his father by going into the law rather than medicine?”
The girl giggled and launched into an explanation that didn’t enlighten Alicia any, but she enjoyed the enthusiasm Gina displayed. The girl’s dark brown cheeks were flushed and her large eyes sparkled as she explained her poster to Colin, who seemed to ask intelligent questions while he disclaimed any knowledge on the subject whatsoever. Finally, the girl turned to Alicia.
“Do you have any questions?” she asked, her eagerness softening Alicia even as the girl’s question made her want to flee.
“I have to admit, I don’t understand any of it,” Alicia said. “I’m just an actress. The only time I claimed any expertise in science was when I played a medical examiner in a few episodes of Law and Order years and years ago.”
Gina’s eyes went wide, and her hands clapped over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said, flapping her hands. “You’re Doctor Morrow!”
Alicia’s jaw dropped, and she blinked at the girl. “Um, yeah. I can’t believe you saw that…”
“I used to watch reruns after school! Your character was the only one on that show that didn’t treat DNA like a magic wand. That was…so amazing.” She mimed a swoon.
Alicia laughed, feeling old. “If you say so. I just said the lines they wrote for me.”
“It’s still amazing to meet you. Can I get a selfie?”
Feeling like the world was spinning the wrong way, Alicia leaned in and smiled while the girl extended her cellphone in front of them and took the picture.
“Nicely done,” Colin murmured in her ear as they moved to the next poster.
Colin squeezed the hand that he had grown accustomed to having tucked into his arm. It felt right to have Alicia there. She felt right. As they went down the row and chatted with teenagers about robotics and genetics, chemistry and physics, Alicia claimed to be out of her element, but she didn’t seem to know that her kind, attentive interest put a lot of nervous kids more at ease.
Well, except for the teenage boys who seemed to get even more nervous around her, but he couldn’t fault anyone for that. She had a similarly unnerving effect on him.
Coming to the end of the row of posters, Colin spied Brandon and his fiancée, Mari. Brandon’s eyes scanned Colin’s shoulders, and one eyebrow shot up.
“Yes, yes. You were right. Brandon, Mari, I would like you to meet Alicia Johnson. Alicia, this is my colleague Brandon Oberst and his fiancée Mari Ashford.”
Alicia shook hands briefly with both of them and looked at Colin sideways. “Right about what?”
Brandon poked Colin in the shoulder. “He’s been hitting the gym pretty hard for the last few months. I told him his tuxedo jacket probably wouldn’t fit.”
“And I failed to heed your warning. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”
“Get it altered before the wedding. Or lay off the bench press.” Brandon grinned.
“When is the wedding?” Alicia asked, looking at Mari, whose gaze hovered somewhere in the vicinity of Alicia’s shoes.
“September,” the other woman replied, her eyes flicking up to Alicia’s face and returning to the floor.
“Congratulations. You’re going to be a beautiful bride. I love your hair,” Alicia said. Mari’s copper ringlets sprang out from her head in an exuberant profusion.
Mari’s freckled face blushed and her eyes flicked up, a small smile sliding across her features. “Thanks. I can’t wait for it to be here and done, honestly.”
At Alicia’s look of surprise, Brandon’s eyes twinkled. “Mari’s mother is running the entire show. It’s…all a bit much.”
“Speaking of all a bit much, this lawyer has had about as much science as he can handle, and I am ready for a drink. Anyone else?” Colin asked.
“Yes, please,” Alicia said. “But I need to excuse myself for a minute.”
“What can I get for you?” Colin asked.
“White wine, thanks,” Alicia replied. “I’ll be right back.” Colin admired the view of Alicia’s retreating form. The back of her dress was sheer black net from the nape of her neck to her waist and the black silk of the skirt skimmed smoothly over her bottom. The slit showed a tantalizing glimpse of leg ending in a provocative red shoe. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Brandon, who looked amused.
“Can I get either of you anything from the bar?” Colin asked.
“I think maybe you need a bucket of ice,” Brandon said, grinning.
Alicia stepped out of the bathroom stall and washed her hands, nodding at the woman next to her. Silver-haired and regal with incredible bone structure, the other woman was aging with a grace that Alicia aspired to.
The woman’s light blue gaze drifted down Alicia’s body and seemed to freeze at her shoes. “Interesting footwear, my dear.” Turning back to the mirror to dab pink lipstick on her lips, she added, “My mother used to say that only whores and children wore red shoes.”
Alicia’s spine stiffened, and her head snapped up. She had let her guard down, gotten comfortable. And sure enough, someone had found her out. Her heart thudded, and her mouth was dry.
“Oh, I'm a year or two older than I look, but thank you for the compliment,” Alicia said with a tight smile. Picking up her bag from the counter, she sailed out of the ladies’ room with what she hoped looked like confidence. Back in the ballroom, she clutched her purse with both hands to disguise their trembling.
Finding Colin and the others, she accepted a glass of wine from him and realized her hand was still shaking. She took a large gulp and tried to appear calm.
Apparently, it wasn’t working. “What’s wrong?” Colin asked, his brows drawn together and his dark eyes serious.
Alicia lifted her chin and gritted her teeth. “Just some silver-haired witch in the washroom.”
“What did she do? Or say?” Mari asked, meeting Alicia’s eyes for the first time.
Fighting back a wave of humiliation that threatened to overwhelm her, Alicia said, “Oh, she told me that only whores and children wear red shoes.” Alicia lifted one foot, pointing at the offensive footwear.
“Filthy cow,” Colin said, scanning the room, as if to locate the insulting woman. “Who does that?”
“Did you respond?” Mari asked, her hazel eyes filled with sympathy. Alicia felt her pulse settle a bit, the kind reactions soothing her.
“Yeah. I told her I was older than I looked and thanked her for the compliment.”
The other three hooted with laughter. “Clever, clever woman,” Colin chuckled. Alicia sipped her wine and shrugged one shoulder, the tension subtly ebbing at their reaction.
“I was mad. What can I say?”
Mari tugged at the full skirt of her floor-length, navy evening gown. “Wonder what she’d say to these?” she asked, displaying the toes of what were, unmistakably, matching blue Chuck Taylor sneakers.
Alicia snorted. “Well, they’re not red, so she probably wouldn’t care. That seemed to be the sin I was committing.”
“People who make up rules are the worst,” Mari said. “I’m glad you had a comeback. I would have just been tongue-tied.”
“Normally I would have been too,” Alicia said. “I don’t know what got into me.”
Colin winked at Alicia. “Whatever it was, I approve.”
A light touch on Colin’s arm and the sound of his name caused him to turn, and he groaned inwardly. “Ah. Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson. How are you this evening?”
The older woman opened her mouth to respond, then her gaze fell on Alicia, who had previously been hidden from her view.
Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson looked like she had been turned to stone. Wealthy, very white stone. Carrara marble, perhaps.
Glancing at Alicia, he saw that she looked almost as stiff. Comprehension flooded him.
This will be awkward.
“Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson, I don’t believe you have met my friend, Miss Alicia Johnson,” he said.
A tight-lipped smile flickered over the woman’s well-bred face. “No, I haven’t had that pleasure. Miss Johnson.” The tiniest of bows of her silvery coiffed head was both greeting and instant dismissal.
“Alicia, this is the wife of our senior partner, William Lloyd-Hudson. I haven’t seen Will this evening, is he here?”
Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson’s cool, pale eyes fixed on Colin’s. “He is. He has gone off to get himself a drink, I believe.” Turning to Brandon, she said, “Lovely to see you Mr. Oberst, Miss Ashford. I was delighted to get the save the date card for your wedding. I am so looking forward to it.”
Brandon nodded, and Mari’s gaze darted from Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson to Alicia and back again. An awkward silence stretched like taffy in the little group.
“Don’t you think Alicia’s shoes are fantastic?” Mari blurted.
“Excuse me, dear?” Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson’s face froze again. Oh, bless you, Mari, he thought as he prepared to dive into the conversational hole she had left open. He set his arm around Alicia’s waist, hand resting on her hip. She stiffened, and he squeezed her gently.
Trust me.
“Indeed. I’ve admired them all evening. Can you believe that someone was rude enough to insult her to her face? Over her choice in footwear. The most ill-bred thing I have ever heard of, I believe.” Colin kept his eyes averted from Alicia’s. If he looked at her now, he would start laughing and not know how to stop.
“Is that so?” Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson’s voice seemed to have developed a crack and anger flashed in her eyes. The harpy must be furious, but she could hardly come back at him without claiming her own rudeness.
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s certainly interesting to see you with someone new,” Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson said, her jaw tight, then clipped her lips closed as her husband approached.
“Oh, Will. Jolly good to see you this evening.” Placing his drink on a high table nearby, he shook the senior partner’s hand and introduced Alicia.
“Everyone having a nice time this evening?” the older man asked. Nods and murmurs of assent went around the little group, followed by another awkward pause.
“Will, I’m afraid I am developing a most wretched headache,” Mrs. Lloyd-Hudson said, her hand drifting to her forehead.
“That’s too bad, my dear. I would take you home, but I have to give one of the awards this evening. Why don’t you go home and send the driver back here to wait for me? I’ll take you downstairs.”
When the Lloyd-Hudsons were out of earshot, Alicia said, “I can’t believe you guys did that.”
Colin picked up his drink again and took a slug. “I’ve never liked her,” he said.
“Me neither,” Mari said, lifting her wineglass. “Anyway, the Lloyd-Hudsons were seated at our table and now at least we don’t have to spend the rest of the evening with her. Ding dong, the witch is dead.”