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“Thanks,” I say with a smirk, a bit amused, since he’s usually so suave and confident. I gather my skirt into one hand and descend the porch steps. He meets me at the passenger side of the car. “I know you’ll be busy tonight, but do you think you could make time for just one dance?”

“Of course.” He opens the car door for me.

We drive across town to the large City Arts building. It’s one of the more modern buildings in Wichita, covered in glass windows and surrounded by a landscape of interesting, Roman-inspired sculptures. The valet takes our vehicle, and I plaster on my most convincing smile, taking my husband’s arm.

As soon as we step inside, I hear the live band playing classical music over the hundreds of people talking. The men are dressed nicely in tuxedos and the ladies are wearing various styles and colors of formal gowns. The room looks like a very expensive rainbow.

Paul and his wife, Marie, sidle up next to us. Paul looks handsome in a black tux and blue tie. His wife wears a long blue dress that matches Paul’s tie, and her grey, shoulder-length hair is smoothly swept back with a sparkly clip on one side. He and Marie make a lovely pair, both tall and slim.

We spend a few minutes mingling with those around us. Madden spots a striking couple who must be in their fifties and guides me over to them.

“The man with the mustache is John Darling, and the blonde lady next to him is his wife, Nina. He's CEO of the largest bank in Wichita.” He leans down to whisper, his lips briefly brushing against my ear, causing my breath to hitch.

As we draw closer to them, Mr. Darling notices us. “Madden!” He reaches out to shake Madden’s hand firmly. “Just played golf with your dad yesterday and he said you’d be here!”

“It’s hard to believe my dad makes time to play golf these days.” He chuckles.

“Yes, but we all have to slow down, eventually. You’ll understand when you’re old like us,” Mr. Darling says with a wink.

“Let me introduce you to my wife. This is Odette.” Madden slips his arm around my waist. I try to focus on the couple in front of us instead of the heat spreading through my entire body at Madden’s touch.

Mr. Darling shakes my hand. “Pleasure to meet you! It’s about time Madden settled down. Life is better with a good woman by your side.” He gives his wife a kiss on the cheek and then introduces her.

Mr. Darling takes a sip of his champagne, then asks, “How’s the campaign going?”

“It’s going great. I had the privilege of speaking at a charity event for immigrants a few days ago.”

Mrs. Darling flags down a cocktail waiter and grabs two glasses of champagne for Madden and I. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Immigration is a very important issue to us.” As she speaks, I realize she has an accent.

“Nina immigrated here from the Ukraine with her family.” Mr. Darling smiles fondly at his wife.

“And thank goodness you did! Dad has said several times that John would be a mess without you,” Madden tells Mrs. Darling with a cheeky grin.

I realize suddenly that Madden brought up the immigration charity intentionally, knowing that it would endear him to the Darlings. He knows what he’s doing.

“Madden, why don’t you come golf with your Dad and I next week? I’d love to discuss supporting your campaign.” He cups his hand over his mouth, pretending his wife can’t hear. “Mrs. Darling won’t let me talk business at these events.”

She laughs and playfully hits him on the shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan! Although my golf game is probably rusty,” Madden replies.

“Not a problem. I’m more generous when I win, anyway.” Mr. Darling raises his champagne glass as he and his wife begin drifting back into the crowd.

As we walk away from the Darlings, I stare up at my husband, who’s positively glowing after effortlessly gaining another supporter. I love seeing him in action, winning people over with his genuine kindness.

I groan inwardly. I was kidding myself thinking I could be married to him and not develop feelings. My heart is falling so fast for him. If only he would allow his heart to fall for me, too.

After cocktail hour we all sit down for dinner. Awkwardly, Larry and Barbara Highman are seated at the same table with us, as well as Paul and Marie, and another couple I’ve never met. Despite Googling Larry last week with Madden, I never would’ve recognized him in person. His professional photos online were clearly edited for his website. Face to face he’s much chubbier than his photos, and even the nearly nonexistent hairline looks more sparse. I don’t think he’s taken very good care of himself. His wife is also quite plump, but her brown curls, rosy cheeks, and big smile give her a bright, matronly look.

I’m thankful that Paul’s wife is here, so I have someone to chat with as the men talk politics. Unsurprisingly, Madden chats easily with Larry about what their campaigns have looked like thus far. It probably helps that they’ve met before, seeing as Madden worked with his son at the law firm. There’s something about Larry that makes me leery, though. Perhaps it’s the way he seems to glare lasers at my husband’s back anytime Madden looks away.

After the meal, the band strikes a lively tune and a few couples take to the dance floor. I look at Madden, hoping he remembers that he promised me a dance, but he and Paul have more people they’d like to speak with. They wander from the table, leaving Marie and I to chat with two other ladies still sitting at our table.

After an hour, I get anxious and scan the room for Madden. Surely he’ll come back, right? He promised me a dance.

Marie places her hand atop mine. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“I really hope so. I’m worried that he forgot me.” I try to pass it off as a joke, but I’m sure my furrowed brow gives me away.