The Proud and the Prejudiced (12 page)

Then the opening strains of “Sweet Home Alabama”
set everyone in the bar screaming, and a few seconds later, Eileen had pulled
her off the barstool and onto the crowded dance floor, with Evan and Dirk right
behind them. Alice caught a glimpse of the table where Peter sat simmering and
Cleo sulked, but the energy ran through the place like an epidemic, and the
swarm overtook her.

She laughed when she and the others joined in the
cry of
ooh, ooh, ooh
then shouted at Eileen, “WHY DO WE LIKE THIS SONG?”

“BECAUSE IT’S FUN!” Eileen screamed back.

Alice and Dirk had ceded their barstools when they
got up to dance, and they followed Eileen and Evan back to their table where
Peter and Cleo now occupied two of the four stools. Peter stood to offer his
seat, but Alice waved as she walked past them.

“I have to go powder my nose.”

Even in the poor lighting of the claustrophobic
two-stall ladies room, she could still see her sweaty, blurry face in the
mirror. She splashed water on her face, on her neck, chest, and under her arms
and patted dry with paper towels. She shook her head at her reflection,
thinking of flirting so flagrantly with Dirk and wondering what the hell was
going on with Peter.
Did he actually plan to leave Cleo and go to a blues
club? With me?
“That’s it,” she said aloud to herself. “No more
cocktails…tonight.”

When she returned, the others had managed to
scrounge up two more stools and crowd them around the tall table, the only one
not occupied between Dirk and Evan. Peter and Cleo caught her attention as soon
as she sat down. Cleo blew cigarette smoke away from the table, swinging her
crossed leg and paying no attention to the others. Thin, pale, almost sickly,
as befitting her role as a vampire, contrasted with the tall, strong,
masculinity of Peter, Alice could not see them as a couple; and Peter certainly
did not attend to her as a lover.
Maybe Winnie has nothing to worry about
after all.

Peter caught her staring and met her gaze with a
slight grin. “So, Alice, who’s next on your list?”

“What list?” Dirk asked.

“She’s been telling me her top ten favorite
guitarists.”

“You have a top ten list of guitarists?”

She shrugged. “I do love a good guitar line.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I’m waiting.”

“Eddie Hazel.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think I
know him.”

Oh, this is too good
. She ran her tongue
across her teeth with a sly grin. “You should. He played lead guitar for
Parliament. You know. ‘Give Up the Funk.’ So he also was with Funkadelic.”

Peter nodded. “That’s the band that recorded your
favorite song.”

“What is it?” asked Dirk, giving her an excuse to
tear away from Peter’s penetrating stare.

“It’s only one of my favorites, but I’d rather not
say.”

“Miss McGillicutty,” Peter said, capturing her
attention again. “You mustn’t leave us in suspense.”

“The only reason you could possibly want to know
is so you can make fun of my taste in music some more, so I suppose you will
just have to get used to disappointment.”

“No one who has ever heard you talk about music
could ever doubt your taste.”

Her eyes downcast, she knew she could not
attribute the flush heating her face to alcohol. She could feel him watching
her as Evan and Dirk began cajoling her in stereo to give it up.

She held up her palms to quiet them. “All right,
all right. I’ll tell you. But after all this build-up, you’re going to be
disappointed.” She tried to catch Eileen’s eye, but, staring straight ahead,
Eileen finished off her beer as though she wanted no part of the conversation,
leaving Alice no choice but to face Peter. “It’s ‘Maggot Brain.’”

Peter winced and looked at her with the
condescension she had expected.

“‘Maggot Brain,’” Evan repeated.

“You shouldn’t judge it until you’ve heard it.”

“I doubt I’ll ever have the opportunity to listen
to a song called ‘Maggot Brain,’” Peter said.

“You can listen to it anytime you’re willing,”
Alice said. “I have it on my phone.”

“Then let me hear it now.”

“There’s no way you could hear it over the band.”

“Maybe we could request that they play it.”

“No way! Even if they know it, which I seriously
doubt, they couldn’t do it justice.”

Peter stood up from his barstool, prompting a
glance from Cleo and causing confusion among the others. “Then let’s step
outside. Bring your phone and let me hear it. As you said, how else can I
judge?”

Without thinking, she said, “Eileen, hand me my
bag.” Eileen pulled Alice’s small purse out of her larger one and handed it to
her. Alice set her phone on the table then continued to fish through her bag.
“You’ll be able to hear it better with earbuds.”

“You keep earpods in your purse?”

She slipped them out then slid off her stool.
“Yeah, well, I’m always pretending to myself that I’m actually going to get
some exercise.” She located the song on the phone as she stepped over to Peter
then held it out for him. “Here you go.”

He flinched back. “Oh, no. If I’m going to listen
to something about
maggots
, you’re going to listen with me.” Then he
walked away, the obvious implication being that he expected she would follow.

She sighed and turned to go, but Eileen stopped
her with a hand on her arm. “Alice, just the song. OK?” She pleaded with her
eyes.

“I know, I know.”

“What’s going on?” Dirk asked.

Evan leaned toward Dirk and spoke in a
conspiratorial tone. “Alice and Peter have some big feud going on.”

Puzzlement creased Dirk’s features. “Really.”

Before skulking away, she said, “If I’m not back
in ten minutes, come rescue me.”

When she met Peter at the side exit, he motioned
for her to pass. “After you, Miss McGillicutty.”

They walked only a few yards away from the bar
before Alice stopped, unwilling to go farther with him even though the music
had followed them.

“Shouldn’t we move down more?”

“No, this will be fine.” She plugged the earpods
into her phone. “Just stick your finger in your other ear.”

Peter leaned against the brick wall with a frown
and a huff as she ascertained the left from the right earpiece. Handing him the
right and pushing the other into her left ear, she glanced up as he inspected
it. “Now, you have to understand it’s not going to sound as good if you don’t
use both of them. Are you sure you don’t want to use both earbuds? You know, I
have heard it before.”

“No, no.” He shook his head, and the frown fell
away as he placed the bud in one ear and his finger in the other. “Whenever
you’re ready, Miss McGillicutty.”

The short length of the cord forced her closer to
him, and she pressed play.

During the opening arpeggio, his straight mouth
and eyes rolled up to the sky told her he expected to be unimpressed. Then on
that first dramatic intense riff of the lead, his fathomless eyes fell upon
her, the serious line of his lips denoting something far different from ennui.
The song had always affected her, but now the strings of the guitar reached
deep around her sternum and tightened around her heart.

Halfway through, the song drew quiet, and she
didn’t think she could bear another five minutes in such close proximity with
her head swimming in whisky and his heat causing her a chill.

“After that, it’s just pretty much more of the
same.”

She reached to take the earbud from him, but he
clasped her hand near her cheek. “No. I want to hear the rest.”

When the screaming guitar line began again, their
eyes met, and she lost her breath and pulled her hand away. Her breasts felt
heavy, and her nipples tightened as if a cool breeze had fluttered between
them, but the night air was as hot, dense, and still as ever.

She squeezed her eyes closed both to block out the
man sharing this moment and to revel in its succulence.

Once it ended, they pulled the buds from their
ears and he locked her in his gaze. “That is the sexiest song I have ever
heard, and
you
are the sexi—”

“Peter!” Cleo, who, like an apparition, appeared
out of thin air beside Peter—both her greatest annoyance and her avenging
angel. Ignoring Alice, she whined, “What are you doing out here?”

His eyes closed and his hardened jaw thrust
forward as he gnashed his top teeth against the bottom, he took in a full
breath through his flared nostrils. Then opening his eyes, he spoke on the
exhalation. “We were talking about music.”

“Music? Well, good. Can’t we go someplace where
they play
real
music?”

Peter half-turned in her direction. “Real music?
Like a blues club?”

“What? No. I’m tired of listening to all these
oldies. There’s a club down closer to Canal Street with a DJ playing music,
like, you know, from this century. Someplace we can really dance.”

Backing away and twisting the cord around her
trembling fingers, Alice said, “You should take her, Peter. You might even get
to do the Cupid Shuffle.”

She hustled away from them as the Cleo squeal
continued behind her and rushed straight to the bar. The bartender met her in
an instant. “Double Jack on the rocks with a splash of ginger ale.”

She lifted the cup with a shaky hand and drank it
all down before returning to her friends, grateful that Peter did not follow
her in, and loving Cleo more than she ever thought possible.

CHAPTER 12

The group of cast and crew were virtually the only
inhabitants of the courtyard at McMurry’s; and Alice sat with Eileen, Evan, and
Dirk at a table near the flaming fountain.

Dirk said, “I’m surprised there aren’t more
tourists.”

“Well, it is a Monday night,” said Eileen. “They
are probably going home or still recovering from the weekend.”

“Or maybe they are just hot,” Alice said,
eliciting groans from Evan and Eileen.

“How long are you going to bitch about the heat?”

“I guess until I cool off.”

Then
the voice.
“Try this. Maybe it will
cool you off.”

Alice spun her head around and reflexively
accepted the glass Peter extended to her.

“A mint julep,” he said. “May I join you?”

Well, who is going to tell Peter Walsingham no?
Alice didn’t budge but sipped her drink as the others rearranged chairs to
accommodate the new arrival.

“It’s delicious,” she said to Peter once he had
settled beside her. And it was. “Thank you.” He nodded in reply.

“What brings you out again, Pete?” Dirk asked with
a concerned glance at Alice. “You aren’t afraid that the film will suffer if
you aren’t holed away rehearsing?”

“I don’t think the film could suffer any more than
it does already,” Peter said.

“And where is your lovely co-star?” Alice asked.

“Cleo? I sent her to bed with warm milk and the
script.”

“Isn’t Cleo known for her extraordinary talents
and miraculous virtues?”

“Is she? I’d like to see that side of her.”

“Perhaps she could put the script under her pillow
and learn her lines by osmosis.”

He smiled at her. “Nothing else has worked.”

He smiled at me
...He often smiled at her.

“Thank you for sharing your song with me,” he said
low, close to her face. “It truly is amazing. I doubt I ever would have heard
it if you hadn’t played it for me.”

She nodded and turned away to hide the blush
heating face.
Her
song. She doubted she could ever listen to it again,
not without thinking of
him
.

The song she had loved so long and so deeply had
betrayed her, coerced her body’s traitorous reactions, gripping her by the
ankles and transmitting a sensation through her claves, between her thighs, and
into her womb. It had wound its way through her stomach and between her
breasts, forming a lump in her throat before squirming into her head.

Like maggots.

Eating away all sense in her brain.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Did, uh,
did you take Cleo to that dance club?”

“I did, under your recommendation, but I think you
might have been having fun at my expense. In any case, we didn’t stay long
because once we were recognized, the paparazzi descended on us like vultures.”

“So you didn’t get to do the Cupid Shuffle? I
would have paid to see that.”

“I’m afraid the opportunity did not present
itself. What is it, anyway?”

“It’s just a fun little dance. Cupid actually is
from here in Louisiana.”

“Cupid in Louisiana? Perhaps the gods are in my
favor after all.” He took another sip of his drink without his eyes ever
leaving her.

Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real.
Conversations continued around her, but she heard all of the voices as if she
were underwater. Her skin waged a shoving-match with the atmosphere, the heavy,
floral-scented night air covering her like a warm, damp blanket. She had
already had three cocktails. She must be drunk from the alcohol and the
humidity. She drank the mint julep then fished two ice cubes from the glass and
put them on the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes as the ice melted into a
cool rivulet down her back.

“Are you OK?” Peter asked, and she opened her
eyes.

“Yes, I really am just hot and tired and – oh, my
God.” At the sight of the scurrying creature on the wall, she spoke low but
wanted to scream.

“What is it?”

“What was in this drink? Please tell me I’m
hallucinating.” He followed her line of vision. “On the wall. Right there.
Running on the wall. Is that a…a rat?”

“Do you mean with the white fur?”

“Well, yes!”

He turned back to her. “No, I don’t see anything.
I think you
are
hallucinating.” He stuck two fingers into her glass and
retrieved more ice. He leaned toward her and ran his hand beneath her hair and
held the ice against her skin.

The nearness of his mouth made her dizzy and her
heart race, and his holding the ice against her somehow made her warmer. “Then
how did you know it was white?”

“Oh, the
white
fur. No, that’s not a rat.
That was a cat.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think I
believe you. Eileen?” But by the time she got Eileen’s attention, the
ivy-covered walls were critter-free.

“Do you want another drink?” Peter asked.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

The ice had melted, but he still held his hand
against her damp neck, his fingers gently massaging the base of her skull. “I
think I’m too late for that.”

He’s trying to seduce me. He’s trying to seduce
me, and it’s working.

Eileen called out, “Alice, are you ready to go?”

Alice nodded, and Peter stood with his hand still
on her neck and offered to walk them.

“No, we’ll be OK,” Eileen said. “It’s just a few
blocks.”

“I’m worried about her.”

Once Alice realized Peter meant her, she forced
herself to her feet. “No, I’m fine. You stay here and enjoy your juleps.”

Peter reached for her hand, but Alice turned and
walked across the courtyard and through the hall out to the Quarter before he
could say anything.

Eileen ran up behind her. “Alice, what is going on
with you and Peter?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m like the
Matterhorn to him.”

“The Matterhorn?”

“Just another conquest he has yet to make. He
wants to plant his flag in me.”