When the house lights came back up, he turned in his chair to face her. “I don’t have to mingle all night, but I need a few minutes with three or four people. You’re welcome to come with me, or you’re welcome to mingle on your own. I promise we’ll be out of here before ten thirty.”
“Go to work,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I can fend for myself just fine.”
He nodded, pushed back from the table, and headed with purpose across the room. Darlene arched one eyebrow at her.
“What?” Claire said. “I’m not arm candy.”
The woman laughed, a full musical laugh that drew the eye of every human within hearing range though they couldn’t pick up every layer of her unmuted voice. “And you’re not dating.”
“We’re not, Darlene. We’re retrying friendship after a false start three years ago.” Why had she admitted that?
Darlene folded her arms across the bodice of her garnet-red dress and leaned back in her chair. “There’s a story here.”
“Maybe another time.”
“Fair enough. So tell me about yourself, Claire. What’s your story?”
Their conversation occupied her so fully, Claire never left the table. She calculated from Darlene’s various stories that the woman was at least sixty years old, though of course she looked thirty.
Then Tai’s scent, the familiar and comfortable blend of salt and acid by which vampires could recognize each other a quarter-mile apart, approached from the other side of the room. Claire looked in that direction, and a pleasant chilly crackle of attraction zipped across her shoulders when she spotted him striding toward her with purpose.
It was just the tux. Right? Had to be.
Darlene chuckled. “Your platonic friend is quite the specimen, isn’t he?”
Claire rolled her eyes to hide the enthusiastic agreement that zinged through her whole body. “Darlene.”
Tai was laughing as he reached them. “That’s enough, Darlene.”
“If you say so.”
Claire didn’t second-guess this time when Tai offered his arm and she took it. Her free hand held both her clutch and her hem—an extra inch above her feet—as they headed for the doors.
“Thanks for coming,” Tai said.
“Thanks for asking me.”
“Not too boring for you?”
“Oh, not at all. I enjoyed getting to see…” She shrugged. No harm in admitting it. “You in your element. You know how to own a room, and unless I misread you completely, you also really love your work.”
He nodded with a low hum that sent the crackling chill across her shoulders and down the arm tucked into his. “It’s always felt natural to me, talking to people, bringing a vision to them and watching them catch it and run with it.”
“And you don’t get nervous.”
“You mean stage fright? I still don’t really get what that is.”
This man had too many talents to count. “I could tell. In fact you seemed to be enjoying it.”
“In general, I find speaking or performing of any kind really fun. Obviously when I’m representing Josie Strong, the health of so many people at stake, that’s notfun. It’s…important. It matters. And I’m privileged to be part of it.”
“I’d love to know how you found them, or how they found you, or however that all happened.”
He was quiet a moment. They passed out the double glass doors into the spring night, which had cooled after sunset. They walked the blacktop lot, through tiny petals fallen from the dogwood and myrtle trees, all the way to Tai’s car, and he stayed quiet. He opened her door, and she slid in, still not over the luxurious feel of this gown, its folds against her legs. Tai crossed to the driver’s side and sat behind the wheel before he spoke again.
“It’s sort of complicated,” he said. “A story for another night.”
Right, because they were barely friends at the moment. Claire pushed away the sting. She shouldn’t feel such a need to know him, not this soon. She took time to latch onto people. Always had.
