"Lollipop, lollipop, oh lolli lolli lolli," Paulie whispered, singing and wiggling his eyebrows to his "date". He wiggled his eyebrows to me, too, as I danced with my "date" next to him.

"Don't sing," his sour faced date scolded.

"Come on baby, lighten up," Paulie laughed. I laughed with him and my date gave me a funny look. I couldn't even remember her name.

"Do you want a drink or something," I asked her. The song by the Chordettes was ending and my feet hurt in these silly oxford dress shoes.

"Bourbon, straight up," she said, rolling her eyes and parting from me.

"My kind of lady," I chuckled.

"Get this woman some wine, maybe it will make her face sweeter," Paulie rudely called after me. I rolled my eyes and let out a breath, chuckling afterwards at the distinct sounds of his date telling him off. He hated that woman. He wanted to be here at this wedding reception with Avi, but Avi had a girl date, too. Paulie resented both of the women with unbridled hate that he did not attempt to hide.

At the open bar just outside of the reception hall, I asked the bored looking bartender for two red wines and two bourbons, straight up.

"Gonna drink that all yourself?" he asked casually, lifting the bourbon bottle high up as the spout poured at a dribble. The song "Stupid Cupid" by Connie Francis started in the room behind me and cheers went up.

"What are you, a wiseguy? This is for four people," I spat at him. He shrugged.

After a few minutes, he handed me all of the drinks and I balanced them in my hands and against my body. Ungraceful, but what was I supposed to do?

As I made my way back into the room, people were doing the Twist and generally acting like fools. My eyes flicked to the head table in the room, a long white clothed one in front of the unused stage. Seated in two fancy lattice-like chairs were the bride and groom, looking like royalty. Eddie was looking at his new bride in the same way the bartender had looked at me. Seated beside him was Frankie, the best man, staring at me. He brightened, seeing me, and I winked at him. I swear if I had been close enough I could have seen his familiar pink blush form on his cheeks at that.

The thought made me smile to myself. I made my way over to my table, where Paulie was seated.

"Where did my date go?" I asked, looking around. Before I had finished my sentence, I saw her on the dance floor doing the Twist with some guy who was taller than me. Figures.

As I sat down, putting the drinks down on the table, a man with a heavy Italian accent approached Paulie's date and asked her for a dance. Her eyes went to Paulie angrily. Paulie lifted his hand as if to shove her away.

"Wonderful, now I have two drinks," Paulie beamed, gathering the two wines all for himself eagerly.

"Maybe three," I smiled similarly, snapping my fingers and pointing at our table to a waiter ferrying champagne around the room. He started to approach us.

"Now if only Avi would come over here. Look at him with that woman. What's her name. I don't care. Why is he still sitting with her?" Paulie looked over at them jealously. They were sitting with four other Jewish people, all couples. "I have half a mind to go over there and drag him away myself."

"Don't you dare," I shushed at him.

"Champagne, gentleman?" the waiter asked, showing us the various types on his tray. The flutes sparkled beautifully under the romantic lighting.

I sucked behind my teeth at Paulie to get him to shut up about Avi in front of other people. Paulie silenced, but looked bitter. I gathered two rosé flutes off of the man's tray and told him thank you quietly. He wandered away, being flagged down immediately by Avi's table. Paulie's eyes narrowed.

"Mr. Sandman" by the Chordettes started and I looked around the room as if confused. "The bride must like this kind of music," I wondered aloud.

"Sickening," Paulie muttered, taking a sip of his champagne.

Our gazes found the head table and the bride was indeed grabbing at Eddie, trying to make him dance. He was slapping her hands away as if she were a fly, his face very annoyed. My heart gripped as if by a fist in my chest as Frankie stood up, looking very sympathetic, and took her hand above Eddie's head. Eddie's hand waved them away like a stubborn, spoiled prince but much less regal.

I backed a glass of bourbon to my mouth.

"Now you know how it feels, don't you," Paulie muttered to me, sipping his champagne again. "Fucking women, look at them. Taking OUR men, goddam-"

"Shut the fuck up, Paulie," I growled, shushing him again before anyone could overhear.

"Yeah, yeah," he acquiesced half-heartedly.

We watched Frankie and the bride dancing together, Frankie trying to show her how to roll her shoulders forward in a shimmy, an absurdly cute move. She started laughing at him happily and my eyes widened as the sound stabbed my heart like a pin, such as the one attached to the little brooch hidden under my lapel.

"Its going to be okay. He doesn't like her. She just got married today anyway," Paulie sighed, starting on one of glasses of red wine. "At least you'd know there's nothing between them because of that new ring on her finger. Unlike Avi. Fuck." He tipped the glass unabashedly now.

"Avi loves you," I whispered to him.

"Yeah. Why isn't he over here with me, then," Paulie sighed, trying to hide his feelings but failing miserably.

"I bet he knows those people he's sitting with. Maybe he wants them to think there's something between him and her. You have to understand. He's in his thirties now," I tried to reason. Paulie couldn't be reasoned with. He tutted and tipped his glass again. I knew what that "tut" was for. Paulie was trying to say Avi was his and that was that and who the fuck was that woman anyway without saying anything.

I put my hand over Paulie's hopefully comfortingly and he sighed deeply.

The joyous beginning beat of Betty Everett's "It's in His Kiss" started and my eyes lit up. I adored this song. "You want to dance? There's guys dancing together as friends up there. You wanna?" I asked, tightening my grip on Paulie's hand, hoping it would make him feel better. I knew he liked the song, too. We often sang it together while getting ready for our sets at the club, singing about our guys.

Paulie's mouth opened, but I never found out what he was going to say.

"SHUT THAT SHIT OFF!" came a shriek from the head table.

People jerked to a stop on the dance floor, staring with freaked out faces towards the disrupter. The song sang on, as if defiantly.

"NO NIGGER MUSIC, I FUCKIN' TOLD YOU! I FUCKIN' TOLD YOU! TURN IT OFF, NOW!"

My eyes followed Paulie's and my hand went over my mouth, but I shook it away as if I had been taking lint off of my lips. Eddie was standing up at the head table looking incendiary. He looked as if he was about to burst into flames, such was his burning anger, his hatred.

"Guess that means no Nat King Cole or Louis Armstrong. My old man must be disappointed," swooped a friendly and familiar voice over my shoulder. Behind my turned chair, Frankie sat down looking as if his brother's outburst hadn't affected him at all.

I spun my chair back around to its rightful position and beamed at him. He took my champagne glass and winked at me, and I nodded with a smile, acknowledging our agreement. Two drinks only for both of us, no matter what.

"Hey, Frankie," Paulie sighed, taking a drink from his second glass of wine. He shook the glass in a circular motion as if loosening up the wine, but there was no wine left. He looked sadly at it.

After what seemed like a long pause of silence, Connie Francis' "Sincerely" started up and Paulie made a gagging motion with his finger.

"You don't like Connie Francis?" Frankie asked, his eyes looking like a wounded puppy's.

Oh my god. I started laughing into my hand, unable to help myself. So the bubbly pop tunes hadn't been for the bride. They had been for Frankie. What a cute boy.

"She's an okay person, but her music," Paulie said, my giggles infecting him. He snorted a laugh into his empty wine glass, trying desperately to get even one drop if there was one left.

"You want some champagne or something?" Frankie asked, looking around for the waiter.

"Yeah, sure," Paulie sighed.

Frankie looked at him with a sympathetic face, the same he had shown for the bride. My heart melted at it. "You want me to get Avi?" he asked.

Paulie's eyes lit up like a little boy on Christmas. He choked on the proper response, clearing his throat in the process. "Yes, we could talk," Paulie beamed.

"I don't want you to go away, though," I pouted, grabbing Frankie's suit sleeve. He grinned down to me gently, his eyes so full of puppy love as he stood up.

"I'll kill you," Paulie growled at me, shoving me playfully. "You let him bring Avi over here, so help me god..."

"Okay, okay," I said in a giggle fit.

"I'll get you a drink, too, Paulie," Frankie said nicely. "What do you want?"

"I. Just. Want. Avi," Paulie responded through his teeth in a hushed way, trying to control his excitement.

"Haha, okay," Frankie laughed, walking away. I watched him go, sighing. His little cute butt swayed as he walked, almost elegantly.

"You're staring at his butt aren't you, pervert," Paulie laughed, patting me on the back knowingly.

"It's just so cute," I whispered, so happy that tears were edging my eyes.

Peggy Lee's "Fever" started up, changing the atmosphere in the room to a seductive one. Couples started to dance slowly in a bouncy way, allowing us to see clearly what was happening at Avi's table across the dance floor. We saw Frankie lean down to Avi, talking to him as a good friend. Avi's date looked very impressed, of course knowing who Frankie was. She said something we couldn't hear quickly to Avi and Avi grinned, shaking Frankie's hand.

"What the fuck is that," Paulie whispered to me, his anger bubbling up.

"It would appear," I gasped, my hand going over my mouth in my embarrassingly feminine habit, "that he's acting as if he's just an acquaintance of Frankie's."

They shook hands, and Frankie began shaking the hands of all the men at the table in greeting like an ambassador of the United States to a foreign country.

"No," Paulie growled through his teeth, his rage overwhelming him, "he's acting as if he's just fucking MET HIM. He's acting like he doesn't KNOW ANYBODY HERE."

"Quiet your voice," I hissed at him, my eyes darting around, hoping no one was looking at us due to Paulie's loud voice.

"He was never going to come over here. He was going to act like he's GOING with that fucking woman. Like he doesn't even KNOW me. Like's he's fucking STRAI-!"

I smacked Paulie across the face as quickly as I could, but lightly, just enough to snap him out of it. People's heads whipped around at the sound of my slap meeting skin. I waved my hand in a friendly way at them and they turned their heads again, resuming their little polite conversations.

"You're drunk, snap out of it," I scolded him under my breath, wiggling my hand to make the sting go away.

But Paulie didn't snap out of it. Tears began to bubble up in his eyes. I sighed and took his hand. I knew what he was feeling. That betrayal. But he had to know that Avi was just acting fake now, to keep up appearances. I knew that come tomorrow we'd all be back at the club, and Avi would wrap his arms around Paulie's waist from behind again and call him his "lyb" and all of those sweet things in Yiddish like he always did with Paulie. But Paulie was so drunk, so upset by Avi's avoiding behavior, he couldn't see it. I understood it. I really did. If Frankie did that to me...I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I'd want to throw myself off of the Washington Bridge.

"I think you need some air," I said sweetly to him before his tears could overflow.

He looked at me sadly, his eyes mirrors of deep sorrow not yet confessed mixing with this new betrayal before my own eyes. The song "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Doris Day started and I sighed, hearing the lyrics. How fateful for this song to play at this moment, with him feeling like this. Happy couples on the dance floor started to cha-cha-cha or what they thought was the cha-cha-cha and I sighed deeply, squeezing Paulie's hand to assure him everything was alright. He looked at the happy couples on the dance floor, a dagger in his heart. I knew what he was thinking. He had been thinking about it all night, but his hopes were dashed. He was wishing he could be dancing the cha-cha-cha with Avi. But Avi was acting like they were strangers.

"No, I think I need to go home," he choked, his body giving a little hiccup motion as he tried to swallow his sorrow.

I knew very well that if Paulie wasn't here then I had no reason to be here either. I especially didn't want to be here alone with Eddie here. I remembered the way he had looked at me when I had been on stage that night when I had performed for his father. A small shiver ran down my spine slowly, lingering, a cold steely feeling, fearful and bladed.

"I'll go with you, then. We'll share a cab," I said, my eyes showing my fear out of my control.

"Okayyy," Paulie squeaked, his tears getting the better of him as one leaked down from the interior of one his eyes. I wanted to wipe it away like I always did, but I couldn't when we were dressed as men. I gave him a little sympathetic smile and he nodded, knowing what I meant.

People looked at us, some of the women looking alarmed at Paulie's upset state as we rose out of our seats.

"Oh he's drunk, father just died, you know," I smiled at them with an understanding look. "Shouldn't have had the drinky, you know what it does, haha."

They laughed with me, some of the women went, "aww-wuh.". Something inside me groaned, having to use this excuse. The same thing pulled in me, yearning to tell the truth. But I sighed, knowing I couldn't. As I supported Paulie with my shoulder, he began crying unashamedly, freed with this lie I had just given. He could cry now that people knew he was going through some grief, though they had no idea the real reason.

On our way out, I passed by Frankie near the double doors. He looked at Paulie and his eyebrows raised. He knew what was up, I could tell.

"We saw what happened at Avi's table," I explained quickly.

Frankie touched Paulie lightly on the back. Paulie could only give a small sob at this, crying snottily into my shoulder.

"I'll bring my car around. You can use my Lincoln. I'll tell the driver," he offered kindly, making to walk out with us.

"No, don't," I said, my own eyebrows raising.

"Why?" he asked innocently, his blue-green eyes in wonder. My heart melted at his puppy-like innocence, but I couldn't be sympathetic right now with what he was trying to do.

"We can't look like friends to your brother," I whispered to him. "Your brother knows what me and Paulie are."

"Are," Frankie repeated. He looked very offended, but I just shrugged to him the best I could with blubbering Paulie on one of my shoulders.

"Gotta go, see you tomorrow night," I said quickly before he could say another thing.

As we left the reception room, I looked over my shoulder in a pause.

Frankie was staring at me, looking dejected. My own heart sunk under my stomach and stayed there.