the discos we had at school. But with alcohol instead of squash.’ She peered at her drink suspiciously again. It was too sweet, too drinkable, and her head was beginning to spin.
‘That’s because tonight is nineties night. Retro! I thought you might like some familiar tunes. Break you in gently. I thought it might be a bit much to plunge you straight into dance music. Can you see Henry yet?’
Cassie shook her head, feeling the telltale tickle in her throat again as another flurry of coughs erupted upwards. Dry ice was a new phenomenon to her and not a particularly good one, setting off the mild asthma that had only ever really bothered her in school lacrosse matches.
‘Hey,’ said a voice behind them, and Cassie felt a large warm hand slap her lightly between her shoulder blades. ‘You okay there?’
A man with blue eyes that drooped slightly at the edges was smiling at her, both confident and concerned at the same time. He was wearing a charcoal suit with a clubby dove-grey and vanilla striped silk tie, and a chunky, very expensive-looking watch that was peeking out from beneath his cuffs.
Cassie, red-faced and spluttering, tried to nod in the affirmative and the three of them stood there for a few moments until the coughing passed.
‘Better?’ he asked, rubbing her back gently. Kelly stepped in closer to Cassie, as though she needed physical protection from the male of the species. He dropped his hand.
‘So I was wondering –’ he said, addressing himself to Cassie – ‘I’ve been watching you two since you got here and you haven’t let a single guy buy you a drink, dance with you, or even talk to you for more than a minute.’
Cassie grinned idiotically. He was very handsome, with a muscular physique and the kind of confidence that only money or good looks can engender. From the looks of his watch, he had both.
‘And what? You’re here to break that record?’ Kelly asked, irked to be so blatantly ignored.
The man looked at her briefly, still smiling, then turned back to Cassie. ‘I was just wondering why. You’re clearly two very beautiful women. So what’s the problem?’
‘The problem,’ Kelly said, one hand on her hip and her head waggling a little, ‘is that Prince Charming hasn’t made his entrance yet tonight. But do us a favour and let us know if you see him, will ya?’ she finished, oozing sarcasm, and took Cassie by the elbow, moving as though to lead her away.
Cassie shrugged apologetically and the man pulled a face as if to say ‘Ouch!’
‘But wait . . .’ he said, clearly determined not to join the ranks of other suitors who hadn’t broken a minute. ‘How can I alert you to his arrival if I don’t know how to get hold of you?’ He shrugged haplessly. ‘You know how serendipitous Fate can be.’
Kelly raised a freshly threaded eyebrow. ‘Wow. Long word.’
‘Perhaps I could take your card?’ he said to Cassie.
‘I don’t have one,’ Cassie stuttered. ‘I’m . . . I’m new,’ she said, as if Manhattan was a school and she’d just joined the Upper Fourth.
‘Well then maybe your lovely friend could help me out,’ he said, looking bask at Kelly again.
They stared at each other stubbornly, Kelly refusing to be lovely, the stranger refusing to be frozen out. He was very good-looking, but she wasn’t going to reinforce his dazzling impression of himself.
‘Here, why don’t I go first: you take my card,’ he said, pulling a pristine business card from his jacket pocket and handing it to her. Kelly pocketed it without looking at it.
The man smiled at her blatant insolence. ‘So now you know my name’s Brett,’ he said pointedly, shoving one hand in a trouser pocket. ‘What’s yours?’ Again, his focus was on Cassie.
‘Cassie. And this is my best friend Kelly,’ she said, smiling with her head to one side.
‘Cassie and Kelly,’ he said, nodding his head as though he agreed with them. ‘I can’t help noticing Kelly’s very protective
Landon Dixon, Giselle Renarde, Beverly Langland