“Good idea. See if you can find her. We need to gather as much information about the issues as possible,” Bob said.
David pursed his lips. Minutes ago, Bob had been complaining about the bias of the symposium and the bleeding hearts, and now he wanted to help? Perhaps Jesse had explained the problems. Well, David wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to find the woman again. He nodded at his father and Jesse and moved into the crowd.
It didn’t take him long to see that there were far more people in the ballroom than he’d realized. He circled the room twice, keeping an eye out for his friend Carolina, who had been one of the speakers, as well as the mystery woman. Finally, he caught a glimpse of strawberry blond hair through the crowd.There you are.He definitely wanted more than just information from her. She was talking with a short, Hispanic lady and a slightly taller woman, whose red hair was tied up in a bun. David approached the group.
“Sure. Send me a date and time and we’ll be there,” the strawberry blonde was saying.
The people she was talking with smiled at him and the woman turned. She really was stunning. Her chocolate brown eyes widened as she recognized him.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” David said. “May I speak with...” He faltered. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”
“Zita.”
He smiled. “Zita. Could I have a word?”
The other women were both grinning.
She nodded and took a couple of steps away from the group. “You managed to salvage your shirt.”
“I did the best I could,” he said. “I don’t recommend a small basin and a hand dryer as a regular washing regime.” He winked.
Zita laughed. “No, I can’t imagine it would be very efficient. What did you want to talk to me about?”
He paused. He didn’t want to upset her again. “You seem to know a lot about the Central American immigration issue. Before I got here, all I knew was what I’d read in the newspapers.”
“What made you come today?”
“My father was coming and I discovered a friend of mine was speaking. I wanted to hear what she had to say.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Carolina Flanagan.”
Zita stared at him. “You know Carly?”
He paused at the familiarity with which Zita spoke about Carolina. “We go way back. She’s my partner in crime at all the gala events. She makes them bearable.”
“You’re David Randall?”
Surprised she knew his name, he nodded.
“Carly’s mentioned you.”
“How do you know her?”
“She’s my sister.”
“Of course. Small world.” He should have realized. Carly often talked about her two sisters, and he’d met Bridget a few months earlier when he’d discovered she worked at one of Dionysus’s oil refineries. But Zita didn’t look like either of them.
“Isn’t it?” she agreed.
“I was hoping to catch up with Carly this evening, but I haven’t seen her.”
“You won’t,” Zita said. “She had to fly to New York straight after her talk. Her partner has an exhibition opening tonight.”
“That’s great.” He needed to get back on track. “Carly spoke about her charity, Casa Flanagan. I guess you’d know a lot about it.”
“Yes. I work there.”
