It was in the middle of Kupe’s story about the invention of his signature cocktail that Finn became aware of a disturbance—actually it was more like a ripple of interest, an impression of people directing their attention to one point in the room. He was curious but not unduly so given there was no crash of glassware, no raised voices, no break in the general hum of conversation. It wasn’t until Kupe himself briefly paused as something caught his eye beyond Finn’s left shoulder that curiosity got the better of Finn; Kupe was not the type to pause mid-anecdote for anything less than a volcanic eruption.
Sure enough, Kupe picked up the thread of his tale almost immediately, but Finn’s concentration was shot: he had to see what was so interesting.
He waited until Kupe had finished the cocktail story and was distracted by a passing tray of canapes, then shot a look backwards, over his shoulder. All he could see was Aiata. No, Aiata wasn’t the focal point; that was whoever Aiata was bending down to talk to. Someone in a wheelchair wearing. A lacy, beaded rose pink skirt draped down to the chair’s footplate and the sparkly toes of a pair of lilac shoes peeped from beneath the hem of the skirt.
The Rolf replacement.
Aiata’s swing of long black hair obscured the woman’s face and torso but no way was Finn going to do the stare-and-wait routine. Aside from the fact that it didn’t matter what she looked like, it irritated him that the simple fact of being in a wheelchair could get people gawking.
He turned back to Kupe, who’d finished his canape and was waxing lyrical about a special pork dish offered at the Mama Papa’e restaurant.
Finn tried to locate his enthusiasm but it appeared to be M.I.A. In his head, he was seeing the pink skirt and pretty spangled shoes of the woman Aiata was talking to and remembering that Aiata had described Rolf’s replacement as a sweetie. The way she dressed fitted that description. The gauze and sparkle, the choice of those particular shades. He hoped that ripple of disturbance wasn’t going to be repeated, that people weren’t going to either look or deliberately not look at her all night, because that would get up his nose in a big way.
Oblivious to Finn’s waning attention, Kupe reached for another canape and engaged the server in a discussion about the dipping sauce. While Kupe was preoccupied Finn risked another look over his shoulder—not that he had any idea what he’d do if he found his guests ogling the poor woman. He smiled as he imagined himself striding across the floor, shoving people left and right as he raced to rescue the damsel in distress. The counterproductive sort of behaviour that would draw everyone’s attention.
He started to turn back to Kupe but just then the crowd shifted enough to give him clear line-of-sight to Aiata straightening and stepping aside.
His smile fell away, the sounds of the party fading until all he could hear was his heart thudding in his ears.
The woman in the wheelchair was Zoe.
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