"Oh, no: I kept the wallet," Allegra smiled brilliant as the Mad Hatter and planted both palms on Pacey's back to steer him towards an open table on the terrace. Unless it was raining frogs and nails she always preferred outside seating. The host's glare only made Allegra's grin brighter; she claimed the table without interference.
"I kept the wallet," she repeated, cracking open a menu. "Good piece of leather work, that thing. Lasted for years."
It'd certainly outlasted the marriage. But then, that'd never been any expectation otherwise...
"I married him because he never made me apologize for laughing. Even though he should've, oh, he really should've." Allegra folded her hands on the edge of the menu as if it were a ledge and peered at Pacey with a now entirely different sort of smile: deprecating. "The old man was blind, you see. Imagine the moxie it takes to walk into a Chinatown crackerjack eatery--when you can't see an inch?"
"Oooh, frittatas. Think they'll slip some bacon into the mix if I make doe eyes and claim a medical dependency on pork?" If unloading her life story onto a practical stranger was in any way or embarrassing, it was yet to show in Allegra's attitude. She kicked Pacey's foot under the table with all the ease and privilege of a long acquaintance. "Hey. The Belgian waffles? Awesome."