that Paul was the person
for whom she was fixing herself up. But the closer her car got to
Andrea’s Upper West Side address, the more Daphne suspected she’d
dressed with Brad in mind. Not that she wished for him to find her
alluring—not that she believed such a thing was even possible—but
she did want him to know that she was a survivor. She wanted him to
recognize that eight years after her debacle, she knew how to dress
up and snag an escort and enjoy herself at a party.
Assuming, of course, that she did manage to
enjoy herself tonight.
She found a parking space only four
blocks from Andrea’s building, which she considered a good omen.
Hooking her hand through the bend in Paul’s arm, she strolled with
him down the sidewalk to the elegant apartment building overlooking
Riverside Park. In the mild spring evening, the park exuded the
aromas of reawakening plant life, grass beginning to sprout and
shrubs beginning to bud. By the time she and Paul reached the
building, Daphne was feeling at ease and self-confident.
They had to identify themselves to
the doorman’s satisfaction before being permitted to pass through
the lobby to the elevator. As they rode upstairs, Paul asked, “Am I
going to know anyone at this gathering besides Andrea and
Eric?”
“ I don’t think so,” Daphne replied.
“Not unless you watch daytime talk shows. Rumor has it Andrea
invited a bunch of her TV friends.”
“Really?” Paul’s eyes grew round
and bright. “Certified celebrities? Can I ask them for their
autographs?”
Daphne knew from his tone of voice
that he was kidding. “I don’t see why not,” she played along. “A
certified celebrity ought to be able to sign an autograph for a
certified maniac. All in the certifiable family.”
They stepped off the elevator and
walked down the hallway to Andrea’s apartment. Through the closed
door Daphne could hear a babble of voices, indicating that the
party was already in full swing. She had to ring the doorbell
several times before it was answered—by someone she’d never seen
before. “Come on in,” the unfamiliar woman greeted them, waving
them into the entry foyer. “Drinks are in the kitchen, snacks are
in the living room, and Andrea’s in the bathroom.”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Paul
whispered as he ushered Daphne into the living room. “Can I get you
something?
“A glass of ginger
ale.,”
“Bless your sober little heart. I
love it when you drive,” Paul murmured, giving her arm an
affectionate squeeze before he vanished into the dining room en
route to the kitchen.
Daphne rotated to find herself face
to face with Phyllis, who looked breathtaking in a black silk
cocktail dress with a blinding rhinestone brooch pinned to one
shoulder. Not bothering to say hello, Phyllis bore down on her with
an accusing scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me he was gorgeous?” she
demanded to know.
It took Daphne less than a second
to figure out whom Phyllis was referring to; there weren’t too many
gorgeous men having a party held in their honor at Andrea’s and
Eric’s apartment that night. She grinned at Phyllis’s transparent
behavior. “You already knew Brad was gorgeous,” she
said.
“I knew he was ,” Phyllis said. “I
didn’t know he still is . Listen, Daffy, how much would it be worth to you to take Jim
for a walk around the block so I can spend a little time with
Brad?”
Daphne erupted in laughter. “First
of all, we would make it all the way around the block and back here
in under ten minutes. I have the feeling that what you’ve got in
mind might take a bit longer than that.”
“Not necessarily—”
“And second of all,” Daphne
continued, cutting off Phyllis’s protest, “I’m not going to
entertain your date when I came with my own.”
“Oh, right. Where is this guy,
anyway? I’d like to check him out.”
“He’s getting us some drinks,”
Daphne told her. “And there’s no need to check him out. We’re