CHAPTER42
Kari reentered the ballroom’s foyer with all her friends. The hostess greeted her as warmly as she could manage, while shooting nervous glances back to where her father and brother stood between three ladies dressed in matching gowns and bolero jackets of midnight silk. Their sheer presence was enough to maintain a semblance of control over the pair.
Kari said, “My entourage has been expanded to include two more. Do I need to ask Ms. Kerkorian’s help with this?”
The hostess did her best to offer the star a welcoming smile. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
As Kari entered the ballroom, Ian slipped his hand into hers and murmured, “You’re the star. Stars shine.”
It was the right thing to say at precisely the moment she needed to hear it.
Kari faced the swirling throng, the flashing cameras, the applauding crowd. And did her very best to shine.
“Slow and easy does it,” Ian said, and released her hand.
She began a slow forward procession, keeping abreast of Ian, holding to a pace that brought one excited, smiling, chattering individual after another into her field of vision.
Danny and Megan and Arthur were loudly greeted by someone Kari did not need to see and were pulled away. The band drifted toward the trio playing excellent samba, while maintaining close tabs on Kari’s relatives.
Then Kari realized Connor was keeping a discreet distance, two steps behind Ian. She decided that simply would not do. She reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him closer. From that point on, it was the three of them, Connor and Ian and her.
Kari handled the event with an impossible ease. Every now and then she became caught up in observing herself, this remarkable woman who flowed through the swirling clamor with something akin to grace.
She did not enjoy herself. Certainly not. This wasn’t her world and never would be. At the same time, for thefirsttime, she handled the stress and attention with ease.
As a result, she remained the calm center of a colorful, elegant, chattering whirlwind.
Camera flashes formed a constant backdrop to her slow procession. She was glad now for that afternoon’s interviews, because the journalists hadwantedher to stop and visit with her former works. They had asked question after question, eager to hear how she had come up with the idea, what it meant to her now. So many of the paintings on display had framed her development, helped her become who she was artistically. Some were famous because of the posters and cards. Others she had not seen in years. Having the opportunity to examine these old friends had made the interviews almost pleasant.
The gala could not have been more different. The noise was deafening. The people talked and laughed so loudly, the jazz band in the far corner was completely overwhelmed. One person after another came rushing up, shouting at Kari. The words were almost always the same, at least, those she managed to hear. How thrilled they were to meet her. How exciting. Then came the story of how they first saw her work and were enraptured, or how they came to own one of her pieces, something. Time after time she was drawn over to stand with the owners in front of one painting after another while camera flashes illuminated the ballroom.
All the while, Kari remained shadowed by Ian and Connor.
Somewhere in the distance, her father and brother drifted. She couldn’t actually tell whether they remained attached to her progress or if they had established a minor orbit of their own. But Ian knew. Every now and then he would step a bit farther away and exchange a silent communication with the ladies. His tight focus, the nods and waves in their direction, were enough to assure Kari that the two men continued to behave.
After what seemed like days, Ian leaned in close and said, “Anytime you’re ready.”
It was only then Kari realized how tired she had become. As if she had somehow managed to forcibly remove the rising tide of exhaustion from her mind. Now, though, she wanted nothing more than to find a quiet space. She said, “Let’s leave.”
Progress across the room was slow, but the trio of ladies joined them, and together they maintained a steady momentum toward the exit. As they were finally about to leave—the hosts had been thanked and the last two owners had been almost forcibly backed away—Kari realized there was one more task. One more item to make the night complete.
She patted Ian’s arm, smiled at the two beaming hostesses, and walked back to where her father and brother tried as hard as possible to smile at something a gray-haired couple were saying.
Kari excused herself for interrupting, kissed her father’s and brother’s cheeks, ignored their astonishment, and said, “Thank you for coming.”
