Page 42 of Let's Talk About Love
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There’s something powerful about making a grand entrance in a fantastic pair of red heels.
Alice had chosen her costume well. She managed to find an orange turtleneck sweater that fit like a dream. Her short brown bob wig swished across the tops of her shoulders. Her pleated skirt was the exact same shade of red as her fabulous shoes.
From the orange knee-highs to the black-rimmed glasses, she was the perfect Velma Dinkley fromScooby-Doo. She rang the doorbell and twirled a strand of her hair in her fingers while she waited.
The door swung open. A white guy wearing a toga and gold laurel wreath on his head greeted her with an enthusiastic, “Jinkies!”
She smiled, deciding to take that as a compliment.
Behind him, the party looked almost exactly how Alice had thought it would—most of the attendees stood around in small clusters, a few people sat on the couch. Everyone had a red Solo cup in their hands. The music was at the perfect volume to hold a conversationanddance.
“My mom lovesScooby-Doo,” he said, noticeably not moving.
“Me too. It’s pretty great,” she said. “So it’s a little cold out here.”
“That’s too bad,” he said. Toga Boy’s gaze dropped to her exposed thighs. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he continued blocking the bulk of the doorway with his body. If Alice wanted in, she’d have to slide past him.
“Okay.” A nervous, tittering laugh broke free. “Are you going to move, or…?”
“You have to pay the toll first.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s your name?”
“Alice.”
“Feenie’s Alice?” A sharp breath slid through his teeth. “Damn.”
Toga Boy backed up, holding the door open for her. Outside, she had caught only a whiff, but now the smell of pot and beer slammed into her.
“How do you know Feenie?” Feenie and Ryan had arrived before she did since she didn’t get off work until eight.
“I’m a piercer at Tim’s. You should come by sometime. You’d look good with a lip ring.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, intending to never do so. She craned her neck around the room, looking for any sign of her friends.
“Great.”
Alice turned around to reply. Toga Boy leaned to the side, trying to see up her skirt.
“Ugh!” she grunted with disgust. Marching away, she wound through the small crowd. There were quite a few costume standards—ghosts, zombies, vampires, maids, superheroes, and villains. She spotted (and complimented) Jane Lane, Quinn, and Daria Morgendorffer fromDaria, a lovely Katniss fromThe Hunger Games, and someone dressed in an outstanding costume as Ace Ventura when he wore the pink tutu, complete with the football tucked under their arm.
(Laces out!)
“Buttons!” Ryan shouted from a couch in the next room, raising his hand. Feenie sat on his lap.
Finally, she thought, weaving through the crowd toward them.
They were dressed as a pair—a couple from the 1920s. She in a wonderfully sparkly silver flapper dress, he in a pinstripe suit complete with a hat.
“Where is he?” Feenie demanded.
“Hello to you, too. He’ll be here soon.”
“You better not be hiding him from me.”
“He had to babysit his nieces for a few hours.” She sat down next to them in a sliver of empty space. “His brother should have gotten home around now-ish.”
“Likely story. As soon as he gets here, I want to meet him. I mean it. I have questions.”
