The two sisters looked at each other then back to Retta.
“That’s okay,” Monica said, rubbing Retta’s bare arm. “Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, we didn’t mean to rush you. We thought since you showed up, you were over Ch—”
Retta coughed. “It’s not that. I’d actually like you to meet someone.”
Her cousins turned in the direction she pointed.
Duncan walked up and showcased his dimpled smile before saying, “Duncan Gilmore. Retta’s boyfriend.”
She held her breath waiting for her cousins to object, laugh, or call her a liar. But both of their eyes widened as they looked between her and her supposed man. There was a general greeting made, but Retta could sense they were formulating no less than fifteen questions.
“Is that any good?” Duncan asked, looking at Natalie’s drink.
Her cousin nodded with her mouth agape, presenting her glass as if offering him a sip.
“Cool, I think I’ll go get one,” he said, smiling again. “It was nice meeting you both.”
For a moment Retta thought he was going to leave her there, but he took her hand in his and moved them toward the bar inside the condo. More guests had arrived while she’d been on the balcony, and every corner of the interior was lively. She avoided eye contact by taking a keen interest in the wooden floors.
“You okay?” Duncan asked as they joined the line in front of the bar.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve not looked up once, your hand is clammy, and your grip is cutting off circulation.”
She removed her hand from his and wiped it down the front of her dress. “I’m fine.”
But after they’d gotten their drinks, she could admit she was a little skittish. The reality of what they were trying to pull off was hitting her. Plus, she was noticing more lilac decorations.
They moved to an unoccupied corner of the home, and she peered over her glass, trying to see if she caught anyone staring.
“I feel like people can tell we’re frauds,” she whispered.
“No one can tell,” Duncan said before moving his body to block her view of the party. “Look at me.” His voice dropped, and she was compelled to meet his gaze. “Nobody can tell. Breathe.”
She nodded.
“No, I mean breathe right now. Inhale for three seconds then exhale,” he said.
He encouraged her to keep going. However, the deep breathing in addition to their proximity made her feel like she was being hypnotized. They were standing so close she could see the nick on his chin he most likely got from shaving.
“Hey, if making out would help you relax, I’m down,” he said as she realized it looked like she’d been studying his mouth.
She rolled her eyes despite not hating the idea at all. By the end of the short practice, she felt better but slightly embarrassed that he had to calm her down in the first place. She was the one who brought him here. This was her scheme.
“Thanks,” she said.
A screechy voice, amplified by a microphone, cut through the noise of the party and drew their attention.
“Hello!” Chris’s mom, Mrs. Washington, said from under the balloon archway near the dance floor.
The woman had a sunny disposition and an affinity for broaches. The last time Retta had seen her ex’s mother was Christmas two years ago. She’d always gotten the sense the older woman didn’t totally like her. It was all the vaguely insulting comments she used to make about Retta’s clothes.
“Welcome, everybody,” Mrs. Washington said as the room quieted down. “Dinner will start as soon as the bride and groom arrive, so please grab a seat… And maybe pace yourself, Anita.”
A woman, presumably Anita, gave a thumbs-up as she continued to chug the contents of her wine glass.
