“Alice got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.”
―Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Alice
“So, let me get this straight. Dare Grangeworth—the Dare Grangeworth—is the guy who found your purse in the back of the cab. Am I getting this right so far?”
I let out a harsh breath. “You know that part already, Ray-Ray.”
“Wait a second, Dare Grangeworth? The famous artist?” Lulu piped up before sipping her tea in a cup almost as large as her head. We were having Sunday brunch at our favorite place, Gallow Green, on the rooftop of the McKittrick Building.
“Lo sé, está loca!” Rayna said.
“I am not crazy,” I snapped.
“I didn’t recognize him in person, but I sure know the name Dare Grangeworth.” My sister had to contribute. She eyed my plate, noticing I wasn’t really eating. “He’s a real catch, Alice. Handsome, successful . . .”
Rayna interrupted. “I hear he can be an asshole.”
My sister shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that. He was a bit rough around the edges when we first met him, but I thought he was funny and charming, in a New York kind of way—exactly Alice’s type.”
“I heard on the subway the other day that Dare Grangeworth was asked by NYC magazine to be on the cover of their most eligible bachelor issue, but he turned them down,” Lulu said.
I plunked back in my seat, folding my arms in front. “Do y’all have to keep saying his name over and over?”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t of at least had a drink with the man the other night,” Caroline said. “He did keep your pocketbook safe and sent a car for us both ways.”
“Yeah, I was there, Caroline. And, for the last time, no one but old blue-hairs call it a ‘pocketbook.’” I picked up my fork and shoved some of my huevos rancheros into my mouth so I wouldn’t say anything I would regret.
“All right, so why didn’t you want to go out with him?” my sister asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.
I eyed her. “Geez, I don’t know. Maybe because I just got here and the last thing I want to do is get wrapped up a guy, especially one who’s kind of famous.”
“Oh honey, he’s not ‘kind of’ famous. Dare Grangeworth is not ‘kind of’ anything. That man is full throttle, whatever he does.” Rayna informed me.
I sipped my herbal tea. “All the more reason to stay away. Can we talk about something else?”
Lulu gave a quick, half wave. “I’ve got some news.”
“Great! Let’s hear it.” I was more than anxious to take the focus off of me.
She threaded her pale blond hair behind her ear. “So Beck has agreed to invest in my latest invention. In fact, I leave for California at the end of the week to meet with his West Coast team.”
“That’s amazing!” I told her, giving her a hug.
Caroline clapped like an excited seal. “Congratulations! We need some mimosas right quick!”
“Forget the juice, chica. Necesitamos champán!”
A waiter came right over and, before we had a chance to do anything, Rayna had paid for the whole thing with her black Amex card. She told him something else in Spanish that none of us could catch. When he returned with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Rosé, we caught on fast.
“Rayna, this is too much,” Lulu said, although I noticed a smile curling at the corner of her mouth. She was right about Ray-Ray going overboard, but I also knew if our little group didn’t give Lulu some love and recognition, no one else in her life would do it.
“Don’t make me pull out my crop and make you my bitch,” Rayna winked, signing for the bill. The waiter coughed, hitting the center of his chest with his fist, excusing himself before scurrying off.
“Do you think he recognized you?” Lulu asked, her eyes alight; she was living proof of the saying, ‘it’s always the quiet ones’ because she thought Rayna being a professional Dominatrix was the bomb diggity.
“No lo sé, conejito. Probably not. She shrugged and lifted her glass. “Never mind him. Let’s toast!”
We lifted our glasses. “To Lulu, our gadget guru!” she said.
“To Lulu!” We all clicked our glasses just as the most perfect, sweet breeze swirled around us.
Everyone else took off after brunch, but I decided to walk home solo, enjoying the last days of Indian summer before I got to experience my first autumn in New York. Then my phone rang, and I knew my mini-vacay was over.
Because whoever was actually making a phone call instead of texting or emailing was definitely over forty and, therefore, a guaranteed scorch on my vibe. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and, sure enough, I knew nothing good could come from a call from my university, especially on a Sunday.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello. Who is this?”
I snickered. “You’re the one calling me, buddy.”
“Well, I know that,” he sounded annoyed already. “But who. Are. You?”
Then I heard a sound, like someone was sucking on a pipe, followed by a wet, retching, and disgusting cough. Unfortunately, I knew it well.
“Hi, Professor Bails. It’s Alice Leighton. Happy Sunday to you.”
Happy Sunday? What was I, one of the little people in Munchkin Land? Who talks like that?
“Oh yes, I remember now.”
Good for you, dude. You’re paid six figures and teach one class a year. Glad you can remember whom you’re calling. On a Sunday.
“I’m phoning because I have yet to receive your case study proposal. Many of your classmates are already recording data. Did I make a mistake in allowing a first year into my seminar?”
“No!” I called out, making people walking by turn their heads. I mouthed ‘sorry’ and continued. “No professor, you did not make a mistake. I had some delays, because of my living situation, but that’s handled now.”
He let out a loud sigh. “The whole point of the case study, Mizzz Laaay-tonnn,” he spoke like I had been dropped on the head one too many times, “is to record how the stressors of life affect your sex life, so you will experience what your future clients go through—not to wait until your moon is in Aquarius with everything aligned to your preference.”
He wasn’t done. Professor Bails rattled on for at least eight more blocks. For someone who was seventy, looked eighty, and sounded over a hundred, he had a lot more lungpower than I would have thought.
I turned the last corner and headed down my block.
“And lastly, Mizzz Laaay-tonnn, I took a chance on you because you came from Chapel Hill with such high praise, and well, I thought you would be up to the challenge this level requires, but if you can’t . . .” he kept droning on and on, the same thing over and over. Where was that phlegmy cough when I needed it?
I wasn’t wearing my glasses or contacts, but there seemed to be a massive hulk of man on the steps leading up to my building.
Dark hair and a beard.
Sunglasses.
It was Dare.
The Dare Grangeworth, as all my girls liked to remind me.
And he was sitting on my front stoop.
I didn’t know if my moon was in Aquarius or square dancing into Saturn, but something was finally aligning, doing a hop-skip right to my doorstep. And as soon as I got close enough to see, as soon as his gaze met mine, he smiled as if the one thing he had lost had finally been found.
I stopped just short of where Dare was seated, with his long legs stretched in front of him. Without taking my eyes off of him, I said, “Professor Bails? Yes, I hear you. I’ll have my proposal on your desk by tomorrow morning.”
Dear sweet Jesus, was I really going to do this?