“Right. A good thing.”
When I look up, Ariana is watching me in the mirror. I force a smile.
“Okay, this dress is the one. Now I just have to figure out what I’m doing with my hair.”
As I take off the dress and change back into my own clothes, I remind myself that I have no reason to be sad.
No reason at all.
10
* * *
I fidget slightly, my fingers clenching around my empty champagne glass as I stare up at the massive aircraft suspended in the air above my head.
The Preview Gala is being held in the National Air and Space Center, an unusual venue but absolutely stunning. Waiters in black tie scurry back and forth hefting trays of champagne, and a small ensemble band plays soft jazz in one corner. A woman glides by wearing a necklace with emeralds as large as quarters.
Not exactly my typical Saturday night.
I stand up straighter, suddenly appreciative of all the times my mother corrected my posture and insisted I wear heels to church. We never had much money but my mother was determined to raise me the “proper” way, as a true Southern lady. I hated my mother’s old-fashioned ideas growing up but am extremely thankful for them now. The other women in the room look like the type to wear lace and pearls even when they’re sleeping.
I’m definitely not in Gracewell anymore.
I peer at the sign on the wall to read more about the exhibit. It’s a Boeing 314. I don’t know what that means but at least reading the information gives me something to do.
A passing waiter offers another flute of champagne and I take it, grateful to have something to do with my hands. I raise the glass and take a healthy gulp. Everyone else is engrossed in their conversations and no one seems to notice me, which is probably a good thing. Someone passing on my left bumps into my elbow and champagne sloshes over my hand.
“Oh hi, Casey. I didn’t see you.” Milo Hamilton holds my arm in a steady grip and flashes a toothy grin. “I’m usually not so clumsy.”
It’s impossible not to smile back at him. “No problem. Where’s Mya?” A waiter appears like magic, taking my glass and handing over several napkins to mop up the spill.
“Mya hasn’t arrived yet. She’s coming straight from an offsite meeting with a client. Until then, I’m forced to socialize on my own.” Right then the music changes to something up-tempo.
Milo holds out a hand and I take it automatically. “Let’s dance.”
When he moves toward the center of the floor where several couples are already dancing, that’s when I start to have second thoughts.
“I’ll try not to step on your feet,” I joke.
He takes me through the moves of the dance, leading with gentle nudges left and right. He spins me and my mouth drops open in surprise when I don’t stumble but execute a perfect turn.
“Wow. I actually did it! You make this seem so easy.”
Milo winks. “I figured I should go easy on you. I appreciate you taking pity on me so I didn’t have to stand by myself.”
I laugh when he makes a pleading face. He’s being very kind. Because I can see from the jealous looks coming from the women around us that he would have no shortage of companions if he chose to mingle. It’s way more likely that he’s taking pity on me.
“I’m more than happy to hang out with you. I was almost on the verge of leaving and going home.”
Milo regards me thoughtfully. “I don’t think you want to do that. Not until you put your admirer out of his misery.”
“Admirer?” Automatically my head swivels around the room. “What are you talking about?”
Milo looks behind me pointedly. “You’ll see.”
I turn slowly and scan the room. People move out of the way as someone walks through. My ears start buzzing and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Somehow I just know.