“You didn’t have to do that,” Meg Jones said, taking the wine. “Thank you. Do you have a coat?”
Cherry shook her head.
“Let me introduce you to my husband. I just saw him...”
“Would you mind if I used the restroom first?”
“Oh, of course.” The vice president motioned toward an archway across the big room. “There’s one down that hall. And one off the kitchen. And if those are both occupied, there’s one out the patio door, by the pool.”
“Thank you.” Cherry made herself smile. She didn’t need to use the bathroom, but she did need toget away, as quickly as possible. She thought about walking back to her car, but Meg Jones was standing in front of the door.
Cherry walked swiftly toward the hallway bathroom, along the wall. She could feel people looking at her. She couldseepeople looking at her. A waiter strode past her, wearing all black. Cherry hoped everyone would think she was on staff.
She slipped through the archway and stood in a wide, off-white hallway, catching her breath.
Why hadn’t anyone told her this was a formal party? She’d asked for guidance! What was she supposed to do now?
On the one hand, Cherry should make sure that Doug knew she was here. (Attendance was mandatory.) On the other hand, she didn’t want him to see her dressed like this—and she couldn’t bear to walk through that room again! Maybe the bathroom had a window big enough for her to crawl through...
Or maybe she was overreacting.
Wasshe overreacting? Was every single person at this partyreallydressed to the nines?
She crept back to the archway and peeked out.Shit.Some of them were dressed to thetens. Cherry didn’t even know where you bought dresses like that.
Fortunately no one was paying attention to her at the moment. They were all drinking and laughing. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces...
Oh. Fuck. Someonewaslooking at her—a man standing at the edge of another big archway, under a trulyresplendentgarland of greenery. He was watching Cherry.
She froze.
The man lifted his hand in a very minimal wave.
Did Cherry know this guy? Did she work with him? She lifted her hand to wave back.
He stood there staring at her for a second, possibly smiling; it was hard to tell. Cherry let her hand drop.
That seemed to settle something. The guy started walking toward her.
He was big—broad like a football player—and wearing what she could tell from across the room was an ill-fitting suit. No, it wasn’t even a suit—it was dark pants and a suit jacket. He was in his twenties. Kind of cute. Cherry definitely didn’t know him.
He walked right up to her. He was looking at her the way people look at you when they think you’re lost—frowning in a nice way. He had squinty blue eyes and very short, light brown hair.
He stood between Cherry and the room.
“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft.
“Hi,” Cherry said.
He grimaced a little more. “Nobody told you that this is a debutante ball for rich people.”
She shook her head. “They did not.”
He smiled, but just with his eyes, and cocked his head. “Do you want me to help you leave? Or do you want me to help you stay?”
“I’m not sure,” Cherry said. “I feel like—if I don’t move, maybe no one will see me.”
He nodded. “You’retharn. Like inWatership Down. Have you readWatership Down?”
