Page 32 of Smoke and Glitter

The conversation keeps rolling around us. Somewhere between Vibes and the school, Sam shifts his leg to make room when Dom reaches for something near the floor, and his knee settles against mine.

He leaves it there.

So do I.

The gym smells like floor polish and vanilla cake.

Someone has strung lights between the basketball hoops, and white-covered tables fill most of the court. A handmade banner hangs near the stage that reads ART IS FOR EVERYBODY in block letters that get progressively smaller toward the end.

We aren't halfway across the gym when Lucia spots us.

"Dom!"

Her voice carries over the music.

She takes off running, skirt flying around her knees, and Dom barely gets his drink out of the way before she launches herself at him. He catches her under the arms and lifts her high enough that she squeals.

"Look at my dress!"

"I'm looking," Dom tells her.

Lucia grabs both sides of the skirt and spreads it as far as she can while dangling in his hands. "Pretty?"

"Very pretty."

That earns him a huge smile. He puts her back on her feet, and Lucia immediately spins to show him the full effect.

She gets halfway around before her shoes slide.

Dom catches her elbow.

"Again," she says.

"Maybe slower."

Marisol reaches us while Lucia is already resetting her feet for another attempt. She gives Dom a look as she smooths the back of her daughter's dress.

"You're encouraging her."

"I told her to slow down."

Marisol looks at Lucia, who is visibly preparing to ignore him, then back at Dom. "You've met her."

His mouth shifts. "Fair."

Lucia grabs Marisol's hand and starts pulling her toward the stage to show her something, leaving the rest of us to find our table.

It is right up front, close enough that the placement had to cost money.

I stop behind one of the chairs and look at Dom. "How much did you spend on this table?"

He's taking off his jacket and doesn't look at me. "Enough."

Marisol, who hasn't been dragged far enough away to miss that, turns back. "Dom."

He pulls out her chair. "It's a fundraiser."

"That still isn't a number."