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I’ve only made it a few steps away when Tobias appears out of nowhere. “There you are! Jackie is looking for you at the cocktail hour. I told her you needed to use the restroom urgently, so take it easy on the champagne.” He’s pulling my arm, dragging me along as though I’m an escaped toddler who needs to be returned to his beleaguered parents.
I shake him off. “I’m good, man. Just wanted to tell the designers ‘good job’ as thanks for their hard work. Tonight’s not all about schmoozing the critics. We need to woo the designers too.”
Tobias raises one perceptive eyebrow. “Meaning?”
I glare at him for suggesting that I mean anything other than the obvious, trying not to go too Lady Macbeth on him. “We want them to work with us. Yes, we’re House Corbin and all that entails, but that doesn’t mean that someone as talented as these women would choose to work for us when they could go out on their own.”
He takes that at face value, thankfully not implying that I’m wooing any particular designer more than another, or for anything other than fashion. “Okay, but Jackie’s looking for you.”
“I’m going to tell her you call her Jackie behind her back,” I threaten, knowing I would never do such a thing to my friend.
Rather than being defeated, Tobias replies, “Want me to tell her what you call her?”
We have a momentary staredown and then both laugh. “Come on, chap. Plaster that panty-dropping smile on your face and I’ll grab you a champagne.” Tobias pats my cheek in a brotherly affectionate move, which is to say a bit too hard, and I do as I’m told.
“Make it a scotch,” I call out as he disappears, probably to first tell Jacqueline that I’ve been found and then get me the drink he promised.
