After a deep breath, I join the horde. Twenty years of practice has made me damn good at small talk. The key is to ask questions about everyone’s favorite topic: themselves. People can talk about themselves for hours. I have two more glasses of champagne while listening to Emma Gilroy blabber on about her new Italian villa. I smile and nod like a moron. This just encourages more talking, but at least it’s her doing it, not me. Italian villas are a safer topic than acid spewing supers or abandoning boyfriends, which is all I have on my mind right now. I’m just about to grab my third glass of booze when Marnie, Rebecca’s mother, starts toward me, looking very elegant in a long sleeved green velvet gown and hair in a bun.
“Joanna, there you are,” she says, almost relieved. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“Excuse me, Emma,” I say before following Marnie.
“Thanks for the save,” I say when we’re far enough away.
“Seemed like you needed it. We thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“Took longer than I thought to get ready.”
“Well, it was worth it. You look smashing.”
“Thank you. So do you.” We stop at the buffet and I snag a few crab puffs. “So, where is the happy couple?”
“I lost track of them ages ago. Lucy was introducing me to people, but she’s vanished as well. And let me tell you these people are not my crowd. Who are Dolce & Gabanna, and why does everyone insist I visit them?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, they are an acquired taste. Better get used to them, though. You’ll be seeing them at Christmas, New Year’s, and all summer long. They show up like a rash and are far more annoying.”
“Please don’t tell me that. I want this to be a happy night, not one that will give me nightmares.”
We both chuckle this time and shake our heads. It’s official. I like this woman. But the fun police find us. Justin’s Aunt Lucy, in a matronly black dress with gold jacket, swans over. Her lips purse in disapproval, as they always do when she’s around me. I could graduate valedictorian at charm school and she’d still think I was nothing more than a guttersnipe. But in the spirit of the new me, I choose to remember the good things about her. Like when Mom split my lip Lucy iced it, let me spend the weekend at the mansion, and then went and spoke to Mom. I have no idea what she said, but that was the last time Mom ever laid a hand on me. Or the fact that both she and Justin showed up at my graduation ceremony from the police academy. Or the time when I was fifteen and broke my arm at school. Mom was passed out, Uncle Ray was out of town, so Lucy not only stayed with me at the hospital, but paid the bill too. She’s not so bad. I think deep down we like each other. Way deep down. Not that either of us would ever admit it to the other.
“I see you’ve found her,” Lucy says to Marnie.
“Fashionably late, you know me,” I say.
“Justin and Rebecca were asking for you,” Lucy says in that tone reserved only for me, annoyance mixed with…well, really just annoyance.
“Where are they?” Marnie asks.
We scan the crowd, but I spot them first talking to the mayor and his wife. As always, he’s drool worthy in his tux, golden hair brilliant against tan skin. She compliments him, wavy orange hair cascading down over her blue-gray draped goddess dress. His arm is around her waist. For once, and I credit the power of positive thinking for this, I feel no jealousy or longing. I see it. They fit together perfectly.
“They’re talking to the mayor,” I say.
“Oh. Him,” Lucy says with distaste. “Begging for money, no doubt. Insipid man.”
“I guess it’s my job as best man to save them,” I say with a swig of champagne. “Ladies.”
Justin’s face lights up when he spots me crossing the room. Always nice to be appreciated. Mayor Miracle continues talking. “…and that’s why we failed. I mean, with no support from the constituents, how can anything get done?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Mayor,” I say.
“Joanna!” Rebecca almost shouts. She breaks away from Justin to give me a huge hug. “You’re here!” She releases me. “You look so beautiful! Doesn’t she look great, Justin?”
“Most definitely.” He hugs me too. “Thanks for coming.”
I pull away. “And miss the party of the year? Never.”
“I’m happy the city could give you the night off, Detective,” the mayor says.
“Me too, sir.” I try to be on my best behavior around Justin. My shenanigans shouldn’t impact his business relationships. “Thank you. Justin, one of the caterers was looking for you. Something about the champagne?” We always use this excuse when getting the other person out of an uncomfortable situation.