“Darcy’s studying wildlife sciences,” he said, hoping to preempt the need to carry Darcy away from the banquet. “So her approach has been wilderness therapy. Lots of work outdoors, nature lectures, mindfulness.”
“Oh really?” Mrs. Hausauer leaned in to ask, sounding interested. “How are the two connected?”
Teagan was stumped on that, but Darcy took a long draught from her water glass, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and slowly answered. “Well, it’s just like when you release rehabbed wildlife. After you’ve finished the veterinary assessment, you have to ask yourself, is this a suitable habitat? Does the animal have the necessary skills to thrive? Is itgoing to disrupt a stable population in the area? But, you know, with Teagan instead.”
Teagan thought Darcy’s approach had been based more on physical interception of any possible sources of alcohol, but what she said had sounded very plausible.
“Fascinating,” Mrs. Hausauer said. “And that’s been effective for you?”
“I think so,” Darcy said, shooting him an only slightly dubious look.
“Darcy’s done a great job,” Teagan said more forcefully, casting a warning glare at Nora. “I can’t imagine doing this without her.”
That smear of pink on Darcy’s cheeks spread to her ears. She looked down at her greens, avoiding Mrs. Hausauer’s speculative look as the older woman shook her head.
“You know, my son, Jamie, had a little too much fun during his year abroad in Barcelona. He’s been blowing off his classes at NYU. I wish he had someone to help him reacclimate to the real world,” she said.
Teagan felt a drop of inspiration fall on his head: an idea about Darcy working in Manhattan, in a job that didn’t depend on Teagan’s alleged alcohol dependency.
“Are you interested in a sober companion for Jamie?” he asked.
“Well, maybe,” Mrs. Hausauer said, looking again at Darcy. “If she’s not already fully booked with you.”
“I am though,” Darcy said immediately.
“Only through November. Or even sooner, potentially,” Teagan said.
“Definitely through the end of November,” Darcy said, frowning at him.
Teagan cut his eyes at Darcy, trying to silently urge her to consider a job that could keep her in Manhattan for several more months. She screwed up her mouth in distaste.
“Do you have a card?” Mrs. Hausauer asked, oblivious to the sudden tension.
“Take mine,” Teagan said, pulling one out of his wallet despite Darcy’s look of consternation. Darcy feinted as though she was going to intercept it, but then her eyes landed on Sloane, at Teagan’s left, who’d been playing with her phone while drinking champagne since they sat down. Darcy reached across Teagan’s lap and lifted Sloane’s two wine glasses to put them toward the elaborate floral centerpiece, making the silverware rattle.
“Hey! That’s your third,” Darcy stage-whispered to Sloane. “You’re cut off now.”
“I’m taking a taxi home,” Sloane protested.
“I don’t care. It’s not your birthday. Three’s plenty,” Darcy said, in a tone that brooked no disputes.
The entire twelve-seat table had gone silent to watch the interaction.
“The technique in action! That’s a free sample, I suppose,” Nora said to her stone-faced fiancé, not very quietly.
Everyone at the table lifted their eyebrows at Darcy’s breach of table etiquette, and Sloane scowled, but it occurred to Teagan that if anyone had been willing to risk a little social unrest to take his mother’s drinks—or at least her car keys—out of her hands, she’d be here tonight instead of Teagan.
“Thank you,” Teagan said to Darcy. Then he set his shoulders and looked at Mrs. Hausauer. “I’ll call you when I get the all-clear to talk about your son.”
As was typical at these fundraisers, there was a series of speeches. While they ate, the speakers introduced each other.The director of community giving introduced the chair of the board, who thanked him for introducing her. They then thanked each other. The chair introduced an art teacher, who thanked the chair and also the director. They agreed that they had all done a good job and worked very hard on the evening’s event. Additional thanks were exchanged.
After the guests were served coffee and tiny slices of cheesecake, the crowd dispersed to look over the silent auction again.
Darcy stood up as soon as the first person left their table, her body radiating agitation. Teagan tossed his napkin over his place and chased after her, catching her by the fire exit. It was alarmed; he steered her toward the main doors.
“Can we gonow?” she snapped at him. “Or do you need to spend more time sucking up to Nora while she fondles you in front of her fiancé?”
“It’s not on my schedule. It wasn’t on my schedule. And you don’t want to talk to Patricia Hausauer about her son?” he asked, even though the answer seemed to be, unfortunately, no.
