I smile at him but my gaze drifts further, back to where Lachlan is taking a seat, Kari at his side, beaming radiantly. They’re half a room away but I can’t keep my eyesoff him. Not when he’s idly chatting with the table, greeting friends as they sail enroute to their own tables, or when he looks pensive, staring into space.
He glances over to catch me staring and crosses his eyes, making me laugh. Beside me, Keanen follows my attention and drains the rest of his beer. “You want to go visit?”
“Oh, we should—”
“Come on.” He takes my hand and places it on his bent arm, ever the gentleman. “We can probably swap the place cards round. Not everyone’s here yet.”
I should say no but Keanen’s staring at me with such a twinkle in his eye, it would be churlish to refuse him.
Yep. That’s the only reason I’m falling in with his dastardly plan.
A minute later, Anton and his date Rachel have drawn the short straw, their place cards relegated to the cheap seats while Kari animatedly chats with Keanen, and Lachlan and I sit quietly, trying not to glance at each other.
“You look fantastic,” he finally whispers, eyes travelling over me from head to toe, then doing it again just to make sure his original impression was correct.
“Isn’t that the dress from last night?” Kari asks, interrupting her gossip session mid-story, looking puzzled. “I thought you decided against buying it.”
I shrug, suddenly awkward. My eyes drop to the floor while my mind buggers off on holiday, not sending up any solutions at all.
“Tandi needed the commission,” Lachlan explains looking disinterested. “If I don’t keep up my end of the bargain, one day she might stop tolerating all of my shit.”
Kari gives a low hum, and I don’t really want to find out what that means. I turn to Keanen, but he seems evenmore upset than she is. “When I asked you if you needed a dress, you said you were sorted.”
“She was,” Lachlan answers. “I told her to keep the next one in reserve.”
“You bought my date a dress?” Keanen sounds incredulous and I stare at the centrepiece of fake flowers and tealight candles, feeling shabby. A friend shouldn’t be treated like I’ve treated him, but I got caught up. So happy for the tangible proof of Lachlan’s affection that I didn’t give my date his due consideration.
I should have shoved the dress back into Lachlan’s arms when he gave it to me. Not felt the thrill of stepping into it, twirling in front of the mirror and pretending I was a superstar stepping out to the met gala or somewhere equally conspicuous.
“How much was it?” Keanen demands and I stare at him appalled.
“Please leave it,” I mutter, pressing my hands to my stomach. “It’s just a d-dress.”
“She looked beautiful in it and would never buy it for herself,” Lachlan says, sounding bored. “So, I stepped in to help. Don’t you think yourfriendlooks nice?”
“How about that dance?” I say, jumping to my feet and holding my hand out to Keanen. At first, I think he’s going to reject as he rightfully should, then he shrugs, and grabs hold.
“Next time, you can sort out my outfit,” he says to Lachlan with far more grace than I think I could manage. “This rental is exorbitant.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lachlan says in a bored voice. “My entire wardrobe is made-to-measure.”
“Wow. This has to be the strangest dick swinging competition going,” Kari says with a snort.
Her expression is more amused than concerned, even thoughit’s her boyfriend causing trouble. I see for the first time that Lachlan’s right. She doesn’t relate to him like a girlfriend at all. More like a casual owner who doesn’t mind lending you their toy as long as you hand it back undamaged.
“Come on.” She grabs my other hand. “Let’s get out there and let these two sort it out alone.”
Keanen doesn’t take her up on the offer, so the three of us trek onto the dance floor. Kari immediately gets snagged by Issy, whose partner is slouching against the wall, looking like he’s drunk half the bar already.
I dance with Keanen, then swap partners with Greta to wind up with Cameron, back to Keanen, over to Anton, over to Issy until we all become confused and end dancing as a group, welcoming the mindless beat over having to talk to anyone.
“I need a break,” I whisper shout to my date who nods then is spun away by a girl whose name I don’t know but who is notching up rugby team members like she wins a prize if she gets every signature. His expression indicates he might be talked into something this evening.
If so, he’s welcome to it. One of us deserves some fun.
“Not trying to bust the joint by ordering fizzy water, are you?” Lachlan whispers from behind me as I queue for the bar. “Such a high maintenance woman.”
“I’ll have you know; I’m branching out.”
