My dad didn’t date younger women. I leaned towards Blaire to see what she was seeing and froze. Grace was standing next to my dad. Grace had come with him.
“She looks terribly nervous,” Blaire added. “I doubt she’s been to anything this exclusive before.”
She didn’t look nervous. She looked the way Grace usually did. Slightly grumpy and assessing. Also, as fancy as the Biltmore was, I wouldn’t call it exclusive. I was pretty sure Grace’s prom was held here one year. “She’s not his date. She’s a family friend.”
As though she could sense us staring, Grace turned and spotted me, her mouth curving up slightly in acknowledgement. She didn’t seem as surprised to see me as I was to see her, but then, my dad wouldn’t have thought it a big deal to tell me.
I started moving us in their direction faster. “I’ll introduce you to both of them.” We needed to hurry, because across the room, my dear mother was busy making assumptions about myfather’s very young and beautiful date, the way I’d invited Blaire to do moments ago, thanks to my stupid comments.
Mom obviously didn’t recognize Grace, and why would she? It had been years since they’d seen each other, and Grace looked… well, she looked wonderfully grown up. She was stunning. She had her hair up in a braided crown, and each strand shone under the lights. Her makeup was understated but it brought out the intense blue of her eyes and the fullness of her lips. Her black dress was off-the-shoulder and hourglass shaped. Showing nothing, hinting at everything. I was not the only guy looking in her direction, and it made me wish I had not been this incredibly stupid. I should have asked Grace to be my date tonight. Why had I not considered it? Sometimes I didn’t give my dad enough credit. I’d made fun of him for his date choice from last year, but he’d learned his lesson and brought a friend this time. I had not.
“Hi, Dad.” I reached in and touched his elbow.
“Dean!” Dad wrapped me up in a bear hug, pounding me on the back. “Barbara said you’d be here. Where are you sitting?”
“At her table.” When he released me, I turned to Grace, wishing I could greet her with as much affection, knowing I absolutely couldn’t. “You should have said something about coming.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Sorry I didn’t warn you.”
That was not what I meant, and she knew it. I stared her down, suddenly feeling a thousand times warmer in this tux. I ran my finger under the collar where the stiff white shirt held firm against my neck.
Blaire shifted next to me. Right. My date. “This is Blaire Tremaine. Blaire, this is my dad, Henry Kinney. And this is his goddaughter, Grace Romano. If you’ll all excuse me, I just need to tell Mom one quick thing.” And with that, I left them to go find her.
Upon approach, I didn’t wait for an introduction to her friend. The second Mom looked at me, I said, “Dad’s here with Grace Romano, his goddaughter. Do you remember her?”
Mom glanced back over at Dad, this time, looking less suspicious. The rise and fall of her chest told me there was relief in knowing he hadn’t shown up with a random thirty-year-old woman. I had been honest when I told Blaire my parents were not still in love, but that didn’t mean Mom didn’t rely on the familiarity of him. Of what he’d do. Or not do.
“Yes, I remember her. That makes more sense. I’d have taken you along with me tonight as my plus one if Blaire wasn’t so eager to get to know you.”
“I would have preferred that.”
She waved my comment off like I hadn’t meant it. “I don’t need a plus one. At my age, I’m happy to leave an event when I’m ready and only talk to people when I choose it. You and Blaire look so good together. Grace has a little girl, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s been divorced quite a while. Henry helped her get a business started right after. I know what that’s like, trying to frame a new life for yourself that’s different than what you thought. It’s… hard.”
Her friend murmured in agreement.
I turned to Mom’s friend, a tall woman with silvery hair she wore short and spiked. They were a study in contrasts, the two of them. Mom was not tall, and her hair was soft and feathery. And never gray. Like my assistant Connie, Mom always kept her shoulder-length hair a light golden brown.
“I’m sorry. I’m Dean. And you are?”
“Lisa MacDougall.” The woman shook my hand. “So nice to meet you. If you two will excuse me, I see someone I must go say hello to.” She picked up the train of her gold dress and darted off to intercept someone.
“She’s on the mayor’s re-election committee,” Mom explained. “And his campaign needs money. You know me,though. I never drop money into politics. When I saw you headed this way, I told her you don’t either.”
“Thanks.”
“How is it going with Blaire?” Mom asked.
“Not well.” I was not usually this blunt, but my setup dates were not usually this determined, especially right off the bat. I could see Blaire eyeing me, wondering why I’d left her side. Even while talking to Charlie, she’d kept a hold of my arm. This might be the only time tonight when Mom and I could talk alone. “I’m interested in someone else. I have been for a long time. And I wish I’d told you no when you asked me to take Blaire to this.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because you’re a very determined person. That’s probably why you and Blaire get along so well.”
Mom blinked up at me. “I’m sorry. This person you’re interested in, is it someone I know?”
