Moonshadow by J.D. Gregory Page B

his throat and hid his face behind his glass while taking another sip of whiskey.
    “So you’re the girl-next-door type,” Eric continued, slightly embarrassed. “Nothing wrong with that. You caught Shepherd’s eye, and that’s not easy.”
    “No eye was caught—I can assure you.” Diana’s anger began to grow anew at the memory. “I went upstairs to use the restroom and I wandered into his study. He wasn’t very pleased to have me in there and treated me like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe. I got him good though.” Diana grinned at the thought.
    “What’d you do?” Eric asked with an intrigued smile.
    “He’d put some ancient pottery in the wrong place and I called him out on it. I bet a girl never talked back to him like that before, and made him feel stupid.” Diana smiled at her personal victory over such an incredulous jerk.
    Eric was all confusion and blinked a few times. “The guy has ancient pottery and a study?” He shrugged after a brief moment of reflection. “I’m not all that surprised, actually.”
    “Oh yes, it was a wonderful room full of awesome old books and decorated with all kinds of ancient artifacts.” A thought gave her pause. “I hope many of them were replicas—if they were authentic, then they were bought on the black market. Things like that should be in museums, not in the houses of pompous, rich asshats like Darien Shepherd.” She began to fume at the notion.
    Eric was still looking at her with confusion but he chuckled. “See—book-worm type.” His smile was warm and genuine. “But go you! Way to stick it to him. I’ve never really liked that guy anyway. He always looks like he has to take crap and can’t find a bathroom.”
    Diana laughed out loud. “He does!”
    After her second Sex on the Beach, Diana began to feel considerably more at ease. She realized that most people probably didn’t actually like parties until they’d had a few drinks in their system. After that, the crappy music sounded less crappy and the annoying people grew less annoying.
    After the third or fourth, Diana had to use the restroom—probably more than she’d ever had to in her life. Her last attempt had been foiled by a pompous ass-hat, after all.
    “I gotta go to the bathroom,” she told Eric. “Be right back.” As Diana made her way from her new friend, she heard Eric say something about breaking a seal. Had she knocked something over? She looked around on the ground to make sure, but didn’t see anything broken. She just shrugged it off and went on to find a bathroom.
    As she was walking, she realized that she had no idea where the bathroom actually was. Her bladder was going to explode before she could find it, though. She looked around for a line of some kind without a keg involved. She eventually found one, and to her delight, it was for the bathroom. To her dismay, it went as far back as the front yard.
    Diana winced in bladder pain and made her way to the stairs—she had to find the bathroom on the second floor.
    No, I’m not going upstairs—not again. She didn’t want to see Darien’s stupid face. A twinge of bladder pain made everything else fade from her mind and she climbed the staircase.
    Avoiding the study door like she might contract the plague by walking too close to it, she eventually found the other bathroom. There was still a line, but one Diana could handle. After waiting her turn and taking care of some much needed business, Diana made her way back down the stairs. About halfway down, a sight made her freeze—Darien. She instinctively drop down behind the banister, even though anyone could still see her.
    Why’d he leave his precious study to be with the rabble? He was in the corner of the parlor talking to Andrew. Whatever the conversation was about, it had Darien’s full attention because he didn’t seem agitated by his surroundings.
    Diana peered through the banister to study him further. Though engaged with Andrew, his eyes were searching