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He releases her hand. “Very well.”
“We should probably go,” I say.
“Good idea.”
I caress Amber’s back. “You ready?”
She nods.
We make our way to the ballroom where the party is being held. The room is decorated in gold. The piano man is pounding outThe Way You Look Tonight. By evening’s end, he’ll have gone through all of Frank Sinatra’s songs. The last one he plays—and I’ll bet anything on this, including my brother Rob—will beMy Funny Valentine. Mom and Dad will dance slowly to the song, and when it ends, they’ll both be blubbering. They’re quite the pair.
My other brother, Blake, is standing near the doorway when we enter the room. He slips his phone in his pocket and smiles like an idiot. I glance at Rob. Something’s up.
“Who’s this yummy little dish?” Blake inquires and then lays it on. “Blake Dalton. The finest of the Dalton brothers.”
My teeth grind. “Amber, this is Blake. And he’s far from the finest.”
She takes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Amber,” Blake repeats. “The name is befitting of a queen.”
I keep myself from gagging. Blake’s going all out, and I’m finding it rather annoying.
“Where did big brother find such a treasure?”
I do the answering. “Macy’s.” I hook Amber by the elbow and nudge Blake aside. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to introduce Amber to Mom and Dad.”
“Of course.”
We move by him, and he and Rob follow. Why must they be like this? It isn’t high school anymore.
“My boys,” Dad cheers when we approach. One more drink, and he’ll be halfway to Toastville. Mom and Dad seldom consume alcohol. Just on special occasions. Either of their birthdays or anniversary.
“Hey, Dad,” I answer. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Amber.”
Dad exaggerates the eye bulge. “Hello”
Amber’s eyes are wide, too. Probably from the girlfriend remark. “Amber, this is my mom and dad.” For some reason, I don’t offer their given names. It’s something I seldom do unless it’s a business setting.
“Mrs. Dalton,” Amber says. “Thank you for allowing me to be part of this special occasion. Happy Birthday.”
I couldn’t have scripted her response any better. Amazing.
“Thank you, dear.” Mom cups Amber’s hand with both of hers. She has intrusive questions she would like to ask but keeps them to herself. Thank goodness.
Farrah Conner is close enough to overhear our conversation and wedges her way into the center of the group. “Did Noah say he has a girlfriend?”
Farrah’s beauty is irrefutable. Her hair is blonde with anantigravitystyle, and her eyes are sapphire. She’s five-foot-six with an hourglass figure. Farrah is always tan, and her white teeth sparkle every time she smiles. And she smiles a lot.
Dad says she looks like one of the original Charlie’s Angels, and I would have to agree. But she isn’t as nice. Farrah Conner has a rotten soul and an acid tongue that my parents will never see. She’s been after me since we were ten, and I’ve never wanted any part of it. Our mothers are close and would like nothing better than for us to be together.
Farrah feigns laughter after herNoah has a girlfriend comment. Amber drops her gaze, and I stiffen, a tiger preparing to pounce.
Blake notices and sidles in between us. “Yes, Farrah, your hearing is fine. Noah has a girlfriend, and we’re all overjoyed.”
“So true,” Rob chimes. “A happy moment for all.”
Things are heading south, and Farrah’s about to bite a knuckle. Mom intervenes before either happens. “Well, I think it’s nice.” She puts a gentle hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Noah finally has a girlfriend.”
