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"Don't I?" she asked. Then she grimaced. "It's pathetic, isn't it? I have more money than I'd ever know what to do with, two parents who live to outdo each other by buying me more stuff, and it's not enough."
"Money can't buy happiness," I quoted. "I think it says a lot about your character that you want more in life. Like helping people." Speaking of that, I glanced around for Bam. Where was he? He should have been here half an hour ago.
"Some would suggest it says I'm a spoilt brat," Rubie said. If she noticed me looking around, she gave no sign.
"A spoilt brat would have skipped out by now," I said. "You wouldn't be talking to me."
"If you weren't here, I would have skipped out," she said. "I still might. I've been seen, what else is there to stay for?" She gave a bored shrug.
"One of the team's players is speaking tonight," I said. "You could stay and give him some moral support. I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Before he tried to seduce her, or some other guest, no doubt.
Her lip curled slightly. "Not interested in the team, remember?"
"You could fake it?" I suggested. "Just this once."
"If I give my father an inch, he'll take the whole mile," she said wryly. "But I might stick around, for shits and giggles. Besides, it's nice to talk to a real person at one of these for a change."
I felt my face heat. "It's nice to be called real." It truly was. Plenty of people thought being in publicity was a trivial way to make a living. For me it was about understanding human nature and maximising that. For profit.
Hey, we all had to get by somehow.
Rubie smiled. "Any time. I bet you've never even had Botox."
She'd win that bet.
"Never," I replied. Something like that was out of range of my budget, even if I wanted to get it, which I didn't. I wouldn't judge people who did, but it wasn't my thing.
"This is even my real hair colour." I smiled and patted my dark waves. That would definitely change in a few years. I had no intention of going grey any time soon.
"Mine too." Rubie shook her head. Her red hair flew back and forth. "According to my mother, it matches my personality."
"Bright and outgoing, I'm sure," I said politely.
She snorted. "More like fiery and out of control." She laughed, so I did too.
I didn't think she was out of control at all. Compared to Bam, she was practically a poster child for self awareness and keeping herself dignified and contained.
Speaking of Bam, where was he? Speeches had already begun in the back of the room. Chatter turned to polite applause as one after the other spoke about the importance of taking care of one's fellow humans.
"I wonder if they've ever met a homeless person," Rubie asked as a man in a perfectly tailored suit stepped down from the podium.
I was almost certain he was a music producer of some kind, probably in town looking for the next big thing. Good luck with that, I thought. The bars were full of talented young bands, hungry for a break. Waves hosted them several times a month.
"Music is a tough business," I said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he came up from nothing." It was hard not to admire people like that. Blood, sweat and tears got him where he was, not a family's bank account.
"Possibly," Rubie said. She smiled slowly. "Be careful, you might open my mind."
It was my turn to give her a steady look. "Would that be a bad thing?"
She cocked her head. "No, I could use a little shake up, according to Dad. He could use a bigger one."
"He's not here tonight?" I asked.
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "No, he's in the Whitsundays with some girl younger than me. I sense divorce number four is coming, imminently."
"That must be hard on you and your siblings," I said sympathetically.
She shrugged. "We're used to it. By the time we start calling someone 'mother,' they're gone. I think my father does it so we don't get complacent." She didn't try to hide her bitterness.
