MY WISH IS THAT MY VISION WILL COME TRUE.
I frown. Not what I was hoping for. What is his vision? It must be about the business he wants to start.
Disappointment shouldn’t be what washes over me, but it does, and it makes me wonder what I was hoping I would read. Why did I want to snoop in the first place?
“Got you another.” I set the paper cup in front of him and sit to his right.
“Thanks, appreciate it. I’m assuming it was Steph?”
I nod and sip my drink. “Yup. Just checking in.”
I watch everyone dancing in the center of the room, and for the first time, I want to join them, which is odd since I’ve never once danced at a community event. I’ve always been too self-conscious about how people would be watching me.
I catch Mrs. Mitrovski shuffling over toward our table. I divert all eye contact, hoping she’ll decide to find another place to sit. “Oh god, we need to get up from this table right now.”
“Why?” Carter glances around as though he’s not sure why I sound so panicked.
Once he gets sucked into a conversation with Mrs. Mitrovski, he’ll understand. She’s a lovely lady, but it’s impossible to extract yourself once the conversation starts. You’ll politely tell her you have to go, and she’ll acknowledge it, then bring up some other topic.
“Are you going to introduce me to your handsome friend, Ashley?” Mrs. Mitrovski sits next to Carter.
“You’ll see,” I say out of the side of my mouth, then relax into my seat because I’ll be here for a while.
Chapter Fourteen
CARTER
My eyes stay on Ashley out on the dance floor, dancing and jumping around, looking as though she’s having the time of her life to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”
If I didn’t know better, I might think she’s drunk, or tipsy at the least. To be honest, I feel the same, which makes no sense since we’re drinking non-alcoholic eggnog. I guess we’re drunk on Christmas cheer. It’s probably the only thing that’s kept me at this table for so long with Mrs. Mitrovski—the fact that I’ve been able to zone out so much.
Ashley was brilliant to leave with the excuse of dancing—to escape the prison that is a conversation with this woman. I wish I’d jumped out of my seat when Ashley tried to warn me. Not only does Mrs. Mitrovski keep the conversation going for far too long, but she barely lets me get a word in edgewise. I think she might be more interested in a captive audience than she is in scintillating conversation.
“And that’s when I told him, I said, ‘Alexi, if you insist on cutting down that tree in the front lawn, don’t be surprised if your clothes are waiting for you on the front porch when you get home.’ I mean, can you imagine? Cutting down a fifty-year-old tree because it’s blocking your view of the neighbor you wantto spy on? It’s ridiculous. You’d think that after thirty years of marriage, he’d know that?—”
Thankfully, she’s cut off by the earsplitting sound of feedback from a microphone. It’s worth the hearing damage to put an end to this conversation.
Everyone turns their attention to the stage, where a woman in her fifties with graying hair cringes. “Sorry, everyone. I wanted to let you know that we’re going to start the Santa Strip Tease in about five minutes. Anyone who’s planning to take part, please meet me beside the stage now.”
She sets the mic back in its holder, and the music comes back on.
Before Mrs. Mitrovski can say anything, I push my chair back. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”
She looks me up and down. “You’re doing the Santa Strip Tease?”
Fuck, am I? I just wanted to get out of this conversation.
“I mean, thirty years, but we planned this cruise for next year—” she starts in again, and I see another half hour at this table.
“Yeah, I am. Sorry, you can tell me all about the cruise later.” I hope my smile masks the fact that I will never corner myself into a conversation with her again.
“Well then, I’m going to get my pocketbook out. Go now.” She shoos me away with her hand.
I didn’t really plan on participating, but it’s given me the perfect excuse to get out of this conversation. Plus, it’s for a good cause, right?
At the side of the stage, all the men are standing around. I introduce myself, and the woman from the stage, Monica, explains how it will work, echoing Ester’s explanation from earlier.
“If there’s a specific song you want to dance to, I can see if we have it.” She eyes me up and down.
