Ms. Match

“I’d like that.” Gwen took his arm and they headed deeper into enemy territory. She thought about apologizing for Faith, but if she started down that road, she’d be apologizing the whole night. Screw it. She’d have a drink, see Paul off, then call a cab. It would be over before she knew it, and she could forget all this nonsense.

The orchestra was fabulous. The music was all the stuff she’d grown up with. Swing, mostly, with some old standards thrown in for downtimes. She hadn’t spotted her parents yet, but there was Danny and his wife, Sandy. And her sisters, Bethany and Eve.

Paul slowed as they reached the end of the line for the bar. “What would you like?”

“Gin and tonic, please.”

“No champagne?”

“Nope. To get through this night I need major fortification. In fact, make that a double.”

“Sounds very wise,” he said. “So how many of them are out there?”

She knew without asking exactly what he was talking about. “All six. Plus six mates.”

“Where do you fit in?”

She almost said she didn’t. “It’s Jess and Autumn after me. Everyone else is older, if not wiser. As I said, feel free to leave. I’m used to them.”

“I don’t know. That buffet looks great.”

“I’m sure it is. My folks know how to throw a party.”

He looked across the huge ballroom toward the orchestra. “I can see that. Do you dance?”

“We all learned. My parents were semipro when they were younger. We listened to swing bands instead of lullabies.”

“I had to go to a dance academy. What a nightmare. I got beaten up regularly, and no, learning to fox-trot didn’t help me become so light on my feet I came away unscathed. I had a permanent black eye until I was fifteen.”

“But are you happy now?”

“Well sure. I haven’t had a black eye in years.”

She grinned. “I mean about the dancing.”

“Ah. I suppose it’s good to know how, although there are remarkably few opportunities to use the skills these days.”

“That’s true. And sad.”

“There are some swing clubs in the Valley.”

The woman standing in front of Paul turned to stare at him. Paul coughed. “Swing dance clubs,” he said. “Although I’m pretty certain there are the other kind, too.”

The woman who’d looked at him was one of her parents’ golfing friends. They belonged to a club that cost a fortune and spent their days playing cards, tennis, even some lawn bowling. She was glad for them, that they had the money to live a leisurely retirement.

“Gwen, it’s so nice to see you. It’s been ages.”

What the hell was her name? It was Bitsy or Kiki or some other silly thing, but Gwen couldn’t recall. It didn’t matter, though, as what’s-her-name couldn’t take her eyes off Paul. “Nice to see you, too. This is Paul Bennet, a friend of Autumn’s.”

The woman nodded as if it all suddenly made sense. “Where is that sister of yours?”

“Rome.”

“Lucky duck. Rome is beautiful this time of year, don’t you think?”

Paul slid a glance at Gwen. “I’m sure Autumn would prefer to be here.”

“Oh, of course she would.”

Paul stepped closer, very close, although he didn’t touch Gwen. “My thoughts exactly.”

With a final somewhat bewildered smile, the woman turned away, leaving Gwen yearning for her drink and her escape.

“Is it all parties you dislike so much, or just family parties?” Though his voice was low, considering the noise in the room, she heard him. Felt his warm breath on the side of her neck.

“I prefer small gatherings. With lots of conversation and laughter. Ah, finally.”

They had gotten to the bartender at last. Paul ordered their drinks, and once they had them, she sipped as she led him toward the buffet. It was a huge spread, complete with an ice sculpture swan. Oysters on the half shell, colossal shrimp, crab legs, caviar. Everything was perfectly presented, the waitstaff attentive and polite. If only she could relax and enjoy herself. She juggled her glass and her plate until she had enough food to help ward off real drunkenness, then headed toward the far end of the ballroom where there were a few places to sit.

Paul found them two seats, and they joined a group of strangers. Gwen recognized some of them, but she had no names to go with the faces. It was nice, though, because the food and drink made chitchat difficult. She wondered if she should tell him again that he was free to leave, or if that would sound as if she was throwing him out.

“That’s got to be one of the sisters,” Paul said.

She followed his gaze to the outskirts of the dance floor. Bethany, the only sister Gwen was remotely close to, stood with her husband, Harry. They both looked gorgeous. Beth wore a long, shimmering silver dress that hugged her perfect figure. “That’s Bethany. Husband Harry. They have a girl, Nickie, who’s almost a year old.”

“Another one?” He nodded toward the front entrance.

“Yep. That’s Eve. Although I don’t see the rest of her brood.”

“I don’t think I can pick out any of the brothers.”

She glanced through the crowd, but she couldn’t find any of the boys, either. “I’ll point them out if they pass.”

“What was it like to grow up with so many siblings?”

“It was great when I was very young. Not so much later on. The competition was fierce.”

“Competition?”

“Unlike those delightfully cheery big families on television, our gang was all about points. Major points for football glory, modeling contracts, cheerleading squads.”

“What about academics?”

She waved her hand, the shrimp she held bobbing. “No one actually discouraged getting good grades. But report cards weren’t important currency. What about you?”

“There was pressure, most of it about grades. It was just me and my sister, Val. She’s three years younger, and damn smart. Scary smart. Me, I had to bust my ass.”

“You did well?”