Duncan twisted his arm to take a look. This was his one and only suit, and he planned to wear it to the wedding as well. “I’ll be right back.”
Getting up, he headed toward the back of the condo where he’d spotted a washroom.
He found a small line up in front of the door. While he waited, he smiled to himself about the night so far. They were really pulling this thing off.
His ears perked up when the two people directly behind him mentioned Retta. He turned his head and found a middle-aged man and woman studying him.
“Sorry,” the woman with long red acrylic nails said. She leaned forward and whispered, “You’re Retta’s new man, right?”
“Yeah,” Duncan said, the word sliding from his mouth with very little effort.
“I was just telling him how it’s real big of you to show up,” the woman said.
The man crossed his arms and sucked his teeth. “It couldn’t be me though. An ex stays in the past. You don’t go to their weddings.”
Duncan paused for many seconds as his brain worked to draw a conclusion. It came as the restroom door opened.
ChapterFourteen
Upon reenteringthe hub of the party with a clean jacket, a burning sensation stirred in Duncan’s chest. Everything made sense now. The awkward introductions, the tense exchanges, Retta’s anxiety. There had to be unresolved feelings there. Why else would she be here and require his presence?
People had abandoned their seats to grab dessert and mingle, but Retta was still seated at the table with Margaret.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as the two women looked up. “I’m going to steal her for a moment.”
Margaret sat back and winked at Retta. “Go ahead, love.”
Standing up, she squeezed the older woman’s arm before turning to Duncan and saying, “We can’t leave now.”
“We’re not,” he said as he guided her to the dim semi-populated dance floor.
They found a spot amongst the people swaying to smooth jazz. He hooked his arms around her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders.
Retta’s feelings were none of his business. The new information was irrelevant, and he wouldn’t bring it up. He had one job to do tonight: be the best fake boyfriend.
“This feels very ’09 prom,” she said after a few minutes.
“Ah-oh.”
“No,” she said, moving her head to look into his eyes. “I liked my prom.”
They continued to sway until she faltered in her step. He held her fast.
“Sorry, it’s these ridiculous shoes,” she said, fixing her skewed glasses.
But she also seemed distracted by something over his shoulder. Duncan casually turned his head in that direction and found Christopher and Irene dancing on the other side of the room. The churning heat in his chest returned.
When he turned back, she was studying him, and for a moment he thought she’d figured out what he’d been told.
“You’re playing the boyfriend role like a real thespian,” she said, brushing his shoulders. “With your suit and everything.”
“I had to borrow this tie.”
She smiled. “I’m returning this dress.”
He assessed the silky fabric that cascaded down her curves. “That’s a shame. I like it.”
Several seconds passed before she asked, “What do you like about it?”
