Free The Designated Drivers' Club by Shelley K. Wall Page B

detail around her. So this was how the other half lived. The smell of exotic flowers permeated the air, draping her further in the dreamy richness of the room. A gilded chandelier twinkled above them. The stair rail draped with flowered cascades surrounded a second story open balcony. Bodies adorned in layers of sparkle floated everywhere.
    David threaded his way through the throng of people with determination, pulling her along by the hand. A group burst into laughter as they passed. One of them backed into Jenny, breaking her grip on David’s fingers and she lost him, just like that. The sway of bodies lunged back and forth like ocean waves, pulling her with them. Eventually, she popped out against the wall, much like a shell rolling up on the beach. A small amount of panic welled into her throat as she peered over heads in search of David. She thought she saw his mousse-spiked hair for a second, and then it disappeared behind a sparkling tiara in a girl’s long, bleached blonde locks. A tiara? What the hell?
    Jenny shook her head in amazement. She’d never seen so much sparkle and glitter in her life. Okay maybe when she’d attended her grade school theater performance it was similar, but those were children. This was just a grown-up version of the same type of display.
    “Ah, so you do have legs,” Grant rumbled in her ear, a loud almost yelling voice required to be heard over the roar of conversations and music. She frowned at him.
    He looked perfect in that suit. Who would have thought
that
? Every time, other than at the airport, he wore the casual denim or khaki pants with a jacket or rolled-up sleeves. Tonight, he dressed to the nines, and wore it just as easily as crumpled jeans. He leaned to her ear and she felt the warmth of him hovering against the side of her face. “And nice ones too,” he teased.
    “Shut up. I’m dressed no different than the rest of these … fashionistas. What is this — a competition to see how many people one can pack into a tight space? I don’t need to worry about pulling my dress up in this crowd. There are so many people here; it doesn’t have room to fall off.”
    Grant studied her face, his eyes slightly alarmed. “So, it has a tendency to fall off?”
    “No. I don’t know — I’ve never worn this. It sat in my closet for months waiting for the right occasion. I probably wouldn’t have worn it tonight, but David insisted. I feel ridiculous,” she snarled.
    “You look great. Not ridiculous at all. Although, it’s not really what I expected when I wondered what you’d look like tonight. By the way, where is David?”
    A man with two glasses of champagne lunged toward them, the golden liquid from the fountain sloshing dangerously toward the rims of glass. His eyes widened with fear, he fought to control his balance despite the flow of people around him. Jenny held her breath waiting for it to splash down her front. Miraculously, Grant reached an arm and shoulder out and took the full force of the impact with his sleeve.
    “Yikes, sorry about that,” the guy offered before continuing on to the group with two half-empty glasses.
    “Thanks. I nearly ended up soaked in champagne without even enjoying the soaking process.”
    “No problem. So, you want to? Enjoy the process? Have a drink, that is. I can get a glass of it for you or wine if you’d rather. Unless you’re on call for work, then I assume it’s strictly water, right?” He raised his hand to signal a person near the food. She vaguely saw the top of a young man’s head nod back.
    “Tonight’s my night off, first one in eight months, actually. And yes, I’d like champagne. I may even take that wine, too. After all, an eight-month dry spell requires some catching up, don’t you think?”
    His eyes darted down her neck, sending a brief feeling of discomfort along her shoulders when they rested on her left collarbone. He looked up as the young man he’d signaled earlier reached his elbow. He spoke