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“What happened?” FP dared to ask Alice, after the woman had stormed into Pop’s, anger visible in her features, and staked out a booth to herself, causing the people that had been sitting closest to it to box up their food to go. Pop had pointed out her presence (as if there was a possibility FP hadn’t noticed Alice, he was neither deaf, nor blind) and prodded him over to the booth, which he had only done after he realized that the blonde’s general disposition had soured the entirety of the diner’s patrons into vacating. And it was lunch time. “Alice? You okay?”
“Am I okay? Oh, I’m just wonderful, FP. It’s not every day that your ex-husband gets married to his own cousin now is it? And decides that it is a great way to mend fences by inviting his ex-wife to the wedding, of course entirely too late for me to come up with an excuse to be absent. And look, the piece de resistance. I’m allowed -- nay, encouraged -- to bring a plus one.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?”
If looks could kill, the one Alice had given him would have killed FP on the spot. “What’s wrong with that? Harold and Penelope know perfectly well that I have no plus one.” She scowled. “And Mary came back from Chicago so she’s going with Fred. Do you have anything contagious? Maybe I could catch it?”
“Or you could take me,” FP offered, his tone low. “Wouldn’t that be a turn up for the books? Alice Smith on the arm of FP Jones? At the Cooper-Blossom wedding? Think of what people would say?”
Alice glanced up at him, a smirk replacing the pained expression on her face. “Whatever would people think about that? Jonesy...you always had such brilliant ideas.”
“What?”
“Well, all heads would certainly be on me, would they not? If you came in on my arm? And it would give Frederick someone of his caliber to speak to.”
“I--”
“Oh, come on, Jonesy,” she trilled. “For me? Poor, lonely, me?”
“Alice, you can’t seriously expect me to go to this wedding with you! I cleaned up after the bride’s son’s murder!”
Alice blinked, and he watched a sweet smile bloom on her lips. “I know. Polly complains about our friendship all the time. I tell her that’s one of your positive attributes.”
“You--”
“In fact, that’s perfect. If people ask why we’re not publicly dating, we say that we were protecting Polly’s feelings. Keeping things secret. Being mature adults about things.” She sighed. “Please, Jonesy? I don’t want to go alone.”
FP ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’ll do it. For you.”
***
FP reminded himself that he was doing this for Alice, who was dressed in an absolutely sinfully green dress, with snakeskin heels, while he was painfully aware that she had paid for his and the boy’s rental tuxes, and that all of the eyes at the wedding were on the two of them. Not that he wasn’t used to that. He was typically a subject of fear and awe when he ventured amongst Northsiders. It was just.
Well.
Perhaps the rock he’d picked out of the local hock to put on Alice’s ring finger had been a bit of overkill.
He just.
He knew it wasn’t real, but he wanted her to be happy. To feel like she hadn’t failed.
“I didn’t even know the two of you were dating,” Fred said with a sigh. “Now you’re engaged?”
“Alice doesn’t want Polly to be upset,” FP said, as he nodded at the elder Cooper daughter, who bore an unpleasant scowl on her face. “You know she’s been a bit...off, since the FBI busted that farm of hers.”
“But still, we’re like brothers,” Fred protested.
“I love Alice,” FP said. “Respecting Polly is important to her.”
“I--”
“Will you dance with me?” Alice demanded, hooking her arm into FP’s and leading him onto the dance floor without giving him a second to protest. “I bribed the DJ to play our song.”
“Our…”
“The one we had in high school, you remember, right, Jonesy?”
“Yeah, Al, how could I forget?”
He wrapped his arms around her as the music started to play, and mentally reminded himself that this was just a favor. A game of pretend. He and Alice would leave the wedding and go back to what they were: barely even friends. It wouldn’t matter what feelings they may or may not have had for each other. It was just too hard for Alice to date him properly with Polly around.
“Come home with me tonight?”
“What? Al. You know I can’t.”
“Sure you can,” she sighed. “Polly is going to be living with them. It’s what’s best.”
FP blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Alice, I’m sor--” He found himself cut off mid sentence, as she pressed her lips to his, her fingers deftly finding their way into his hair.
“I’m not,” she whispered, after they pulled apart. “I’m not sorry at all.”