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“WONDERFUL. WHERE TO NEXT?”
Bastian had just announced that the pressure was off. He’d mingled, made contacts, cemented favors…accomplished all his business. Their time was finally their own. He’d expelled a weary breath and Paula felt his arm around her loosen as he stroked up and down her side. Only then did she realize how much tension he’d been holding.
“Let’s see. I should probably say hello to some people.”
“I thought you said you were all done.”
“With work,” he specified. “I’d like to get a bit of socializing done. But we can leave now if you’d rather go.”
“No, we can do that. It sounds like fun.” She grinned when he slanted her a look. “What? I’m actually having a good time.”
His eyes warmed. “We missed the kids’ performance. Let’s find where they’re stashed.”
“Stashed?”
“Do you see children running around?” he said dryly.
Come to think of it, she didn’t. “Oh. Golly.”
It seemed the children had been “stashed” at tables set up way on the other side of the mansion in front of the double-door entrance to the library. Every last munchkin was outfitted in a tuxedo or formal gown. The exuberance level was at zero.
It was as Georgette had said. The children were aged into miniature adults. Bastian’s unconcerned attitude told her this was par for the course in Spencerville…maybe even the entire New Highland jet set.
Maybe she didn’t understand Bastian as well as she thought. Maybe their dating was a very bad idea. This was not an acceptable way of life in her book.
Any of these children might have been him as a child. She became convinced of it when she saw he was fully relaxed talking to them, as if a table full of proper little zombies was a normal thing.
While he chatted with the older boys, keeping his arm around Paula, she had the entire concert program recited to her in detail by the younger children. These signs of life were reassuring. They reminded her of her energetic little cousins, even if they behaved nothing like the excited kids in the video her mother had sent along earlier.
A tiny girl sitting in the very last seat started moving very slowly, furtively sliding off her chair with the air of somebody trying to sneak away. When she saw Paula giving her the side-eye, she froze, then plopped down in her chair again with slumped shoulders. “I wasn’t,” she said quickly.
“You weren’t?” Paula pursed her lips as the girl shook her head swiftly. “I think you were, but I won’t tell.”
The girl was silent a moment. Then she said, “You’re the most.”
“Um, pardon me?”
“Themost.”
Paula looked around. “The most what?”
“Themost.”
“The most…tall?”
The girl shook her head. “No.”
“Then the most…what? Say it for me, child.”
“Looking.”
“Looking? I look the most?” This made no sense.
The girl nodded. “No one else saw me. You saw themost. And you have the most velvet.” She pointed to Paula’s skirt.
“What…oh, right, I see. I’m wearing the most velvet. Now that’s debatable. But I’ll give you that I’m wearing the most velvet here at this table.”
The girl stared down at where Paula and Bastian were pressed against each other. “Touching.”
