back at his rival, even if it did involve the childish destruction of Thad’s pictures. Or even—as impossible as it sounded to me because I knew what a gentleman he was—Langston. After all, the last I’d seen him, he was heading off toward the lobby with an awl in his hands and the certainty in his heart that Thad had ripped him off.
These were the sorts of thoughts that swirled through my head the rest of the afternoon as I went through the paces. They were not necessarily what I was thinking about in the “Collecting Mania” workshop, where I was more concerned about staying in the back corner of the room and not even looking in the direction of the empty seat next to Daryl’s.
By four o’clock, when the afternoon sessions were over, I had just enough time to race up to my room to shower and change into my clothes for the evening banquet. Things would have gone a bit smoother if I could have found my comb faster. I was sure I’d left it in the bathroom earlier that morning, but it wasn’t there, and of all places, I found it finally on a shelf in the hallway closet.
“Weird,” I told myself, not so much because of where I found the comb but because I didn’t remember putting it there. Then again, with everything that had been happening and all the conference minutiae packing my head, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I was forgetting details. And misplacing things, too.
By the time I was ready and on my way back downstairs, my head was spinning and my anticipation of the night’s event was whirring through my bloodstream. I made sure everything inside and outside the ballroom was ready for our guests.
“Lookin’ good, Button Babe!” There’s only one person on the face of the earth who would have the nerve to call me that, so when I turned around, I wasn’t surprised to see Kaz. I was surprised to see him wearing a tux.
“What?” Like a model on a Milan runway, he held out his arms and spun around to give me a better look. “You’ve never seen me in a tux before?”
“I have seen you in a tux. Once.” I did not elaborate. We both knew the day we were talking about, and what’s that saying about beating a dead horse? Well, there was no use beating a dead wedding. Or more precisely, a dead marriage.
“You look good,” I told him, because it was true.
“And you look…” Kaz grabbed my hands and held me at arm’s length. Thanks to a recent royalty check from a low-budget movie I’d once done costumes for that hadturned into a cult favorite, I’d treated myself to a new dress for this special occasion. Three-quarter sleeves, scalloped neckline, black lace. It was fun without being too funky, elegant and romantic and still professional. When I bought it, I had absolutely no intention of impressing anyone but myself, but the way Kaz’s eyes lit told me otherwise.
“You look amazing!” he said.
“And you’re apparently still my assistant?” I was hoping he’d contradict me, but no such luck, and when I realized it, I breathed a sigh of surrender. “OK, assistant, what’s on our agenda before dinner starts?”
“I was hoping for a glass of champagne and—” The look on my face told Kaz to stick to the subject, and the subject was the conference. “Everything’s all set up for Helen and the people who will be checking the guest list,” he said, pointing to the table near the door. “Only she’s not here yet and…” He glanced at his Rolex, the one I’d bought him back in the day, after I’d received my very first royalty check. Honestly, I was surprised it hadn’t gone the way of all of Kaz’s other assets—to the pawnshops, or the loan sharks, or his landlord to pay his back rent. “She told me she was going to be down here by five, and it’s nearly five thirty.”
“Why don’t you call her room?” I nudged Kaz in the direction of the nearest house phone. “She’s not a spring chicken, and if something happened and she needs some
These were the sorts of thoughts that swirled through my head the rest of the afternoon as I went through the paces. They were not necessarily what I was thinking about in the “Collecting Mania” workshop, where I was more concerned about staying in the back corner of the room and not even looking in the direction of the empty seat next to Daryl’s.
By four o’clock, when the afternoon sessions were over, I had just enough time to race up to my room to shower and change into my clothes for the evening banquet. Things would have gone a bit smoother if I could have found my comb faster. I was sure I’d left it in the bathroom earlier that morning, but it wasn’t there, and of all places, I found it finally on a shelf in the hallway closet.
“Weird,” I told myself, not so much because of where I found the comb but because I didn’t remember putting it there. Then again, with everything that had been happening and all the conference minutiae packing my head, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I was forgetting details. And misplacing things, too.
By the time I was ready and on my way back downstairs, my head was spinning and my anticipation of the night’s event was whirring through my bloodstream. I made sure everything inside and outside the ballroom was ready for our guests.
“Lookin’ good, Button Babe!” There’s only one person on the face of the earth who would have the nerve to call me that, so when I turned around, I wasn’t surprised to see Kaz. I was surprised to see him wearing a tux.
“What?” Like a model on a Milan runway, he held out his arms and spun around to give me a better look. “You’ve never seen me in a tux before?”
“I have seen you in a tux. Once.” I did not elaborate. We both knew the day we were talking about, and what’s that saying about beating a dead horse? Well, there was no use beating a dead wedding. Or more precisely, a dead marriage.
“You look good,” I told him, because it was true.
“And you look…” Kaz grabbed my hands and held me at arm’s length. Thanks to a recent royalty check from a low-budget movie I’d once done costumes for that hadturned into a cult favorite, I’d treated myself to a new dress for this special occasion. Three-quarter sleeves, scalloped neckline, black lace. It was fun without being too funky, elegant and romantic and still professional. When I bought it, I had absolutely no intention of impressing anyone but myself, but the way Kaz’s eyes lit told me otherwise.
“You look amazing!” he said.
“And you’re apparently still my assistant?” I was hoping he’d contradict me, but no such luck, and when I realized it, I breathed a sigh of surrender. “OK, assistant, what’s on our agenda before dinner starts?”
“I was hoping for a glass of champagne and—” The look on my face told Kaz to stick to the subject, and the subject was the conference. “Everything’s all set up for Helen and the people who will be checking the guest list,” he said, pointing to the table near the door. “Only she’s not here yet and…” He glanced at his Rolex, the one I’d bought him back in the day, after I’d received my very first royalty check. Honestly, I was surprised it hadn’t gone the way of all of Kaz’s other assets—to the pawnshops, or the loan sharks, or his landlord to pay his back rent. “She told me she was going to be down here by five, and it’s nearly five thirty.”
“Why don’t you call her room?” I nudged Kaz in the direction of the nearest house phone. “She’s not a spring chicken, and if something happened and she needs some