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"He's not married so…"

"You are so bad," the other woman replied and they laughed again. "I'm glad you talked me into coming here. I think it'll be fun."

"It's going to be very fun. He's really fun once you get a few shots of vodka into him."

A chill went through me. They had to be talking about Drake. That had to be Samantha. I leaned down as far as I could and looked under the door of my stall as the two women gossiped about Drake. I could make out two sets of shoes – one pair of tan sandals and the other black pumps. I heard water run, and the women laughed and then left the washroom together.

I finished and washed up, looking at myself in the mirror. Was I mousy? I was on the short side, my head coming up to Drake's shoulder unless I wore heels. My breasts were on the larger side. My hair was brown. I wasn't beautiful in the classic sense, but I wasn't ugly either, my features soft, young looking for my age.

But mousy?

She definitely sounded as if she wanted to try to rekindle their old relationship.

I felt like I could cry, my old insecurities about being so short resurfacing, wishing I had inherited my mother's stature, black hair and dark eyes, so at least I could call myself dark and sultry but instead, I looked like my father. Short. Brown hair. Nondescript hazel-green eyes.

I left the washroom feeling angry with myself. Those women were jealous – Sam was jealous that Drake was taken. She had her chance and turned him down.

I went back to the main reception area. From the table of canapés, I watched Drake and Michael. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, although I did see Drake yawn once, hiding it behind a hand.

He turned away from the group and seemed to seek me out. When our eyes met, he raised his glass and smiled briefly. I knew he was very tired and probably could only think of going home, but he was dutiful and followed Michael around, speaking with this or that student, trying to look enthusiastic.

Claire joined me once more and we spoke about looking for a house, but the entire time I couldn't get Sam's words out of my mind. The term 'mousy' keep coming back to me. Then, I forced it out of my mind and tried to focus on the conversation with Claire.

I told her we'd be looking at houses and hoped to move in as soon as possible – maybe by mid-month. I was eager to get a home and make it mine.

"How do you manage, with Michael having such a full schedule?"

Claire turned to me. "I'm used to a crazy schedule but I gave up my practice when we had children. Now I work part-time at the hospital. The rest of the time, I work hard at making the most comfortable home I can for Michael and our kids. The two youngest are still with us, but the two oldest are off at college now. Frankly, I'm so busy with my own work, I barely notice Michael's gone. We fall into bed together at the end of a long day and the only thing we're thinking about is sleep. If you stay with Drake, I imagine that's the way it will be with you as well, once you have children."

If you stay with Drake…

I nodded, but in truth, I saw family as a long way off. I had to finish my Masters degree. Maybe get a job at a newspaper or magazine. I wanted to work on my art and see how far I could go with it. And I wanted to spend time with Drake, as a couple. Children, if and when we had them, would be a long way off.

I turned from Claire to the table of snacks and noticed Drake was standing with the two young women I'd seen earlier whispering together. Were those the two who came into the bathroom? Then I saw the woman's shoes – one had tan sandals and the other black pumps like the ones I’d seen in the washroom. Which one was Sam?

The two women stood with him off to the side and spoke, their faces and hands animated as they discussed something – I couldn't imagine what – robotic neurosurgery? Their backgrounds? His background? How I was far too mousy to be his fiancée?

I was beginning to feel like I should have stayed at the hotel and let Drake go by himself, for it was clear that neither Michael nor Drake were going to spend any of their time with us.

Claire came to me and took my arm, pulling me over to the bar.

"You look bored. Have another glass of wine, Kate. Have some of these delicious appetizers."

I followed her for a moment but continued to watch as Drake spoke to the two women. They all laughed together and then the woman with the black pumps leaned closer and touched Drake on the arm. At that, my body tensed. That had to be Samantha Cuttington. She was everything I wasn't – tall, blonde, beautiful. An amazon. Not mousy, in other words.

"I think I'm going to go and speak with Drake," I said, but Claire grabbed my arm.

"Oh, let him speak with his students," she said. "They're all so eager to meet him and talk to him about their work and their classes."

I stopped for a minute and considered. I didn't want to intrude but one of those women was Sam. I wanted to meet the woman Drake once slept with.

"I'll be quick," I said and left Claire standing by the table of canapés.

I walked over to where Drake stood with the two women. One of them – the tall blonde with ice blue eyes – saw me coming and stood a little straighter.

Drake saw me next and smiled. "And here she is," he said, holding his arm out to me. I stepped into his embrace, and felt a thrill when he pulled me closer and kissed me on the mouth. I was glad that he was willing to show me affection in front of everyone and couldn’t help but smile inwardly when I saw the tall blonde's response. She smiled, her smile tight-lipped as if it was forced.

"Kate, may I introduce Sam Cuttington and Camille …" he hesitated and turned to the woman with dark hair.

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