Page 22 of Red Hot Harmony

“I’ll be right back,” Ally said, rising to her feet.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her weave a path toward the newly arrived party. There were six of them. Two girls and four boys, all slightly older, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties. They wore leather and denim and jewelry. A couple of faces looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them just yet.

“Do you know any of those kids?” Harper leaned into me and whispered.

“I’m not sure,” I told him honestly, sifting through my memories. The cocktail didn’t help.

“Is there a problem?” Dante glanced at the group over his shoulder, then at me. He hadn’t eaten much. Most of his food was still on his plate.

“They might be some of Ally’s friends,” I said, unsure.

“You want me to go see what’s going on?” he offered.

I thought about it. Then I thought about it some more.

Stop embarrassing me, Mom.

“No.”

“I’m available if you change your mind,” he supplied, stabbing his fork into a piece of salmon.

Awkward silence bloomed between the three of us.

Harper was the first one to speak up. “How about some dessert, huh?”

“Sure,” I agreed absently; however, my undivided attention was on the table where Ally had gone off to. Someone pulled up an extra chair and she was now seated between two of the boys, talking animatedly.

I watched them carefully, not wanting to miss a single thing. I watched them like a hawk, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps a touch that was out of line that would give me an excuse to walk up and not be an embarrassment, but nothing did happen. They were just chatting.

For dessert, we ordered four servings of carrot cake. Dante didn’t try his, but he did pay the entire bill.

Harper opposed, but it was useless. His resistance was met head-on.

“Don’t antagonize me, man,” Dante told him with a vicious smile, shoving his card at the waiter.

It was close to midnight when we got ready to leave and Ally was still at the table on the opposite side of the patio, in the company of strangers. Or at least, they were strangers to me.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” I muttered, getting to my feet. The room swayed and the lights became flares. I wasn’t sure whether it was due to the cocktail that had turned out to be too strong or the fact that I was exhausted beyond comprehension.

Nevertheless, I pushed forward, snaking my way between the knots of people.

A throat cleared when I came to a halt beside the table. Multiple pairs of eyes slid over to me, evaluating. There were glasses of beer. Several actually. None in front of my daughter, which, of course, didn’t mean she hadn’t sneaked some earlier when I wasn’t looking.

Stop being paranoid, Camille.

Ally turned, her face scrunching into a grimace for a brief moment, but she composed herself quickly. Quicker than I would have in a similar situation.

“You should say goodbye to your friends,” I told her calmly.

“Can I stay?” she asked. There was a challenge in her voice, bright and evident.

“Not today, Bug,” I said.

“I’ll drop her off,” one of the girls offered.

She looked around eighteen or nineteen and I didn’t know her. But, apparently, she knew me.

“Ally’s still in high school. Her curfew on the weekend is midnight,” I explained calmly, looking at the girl, then at my daughter.

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