Her eyes glanced down over me and back up, suddenly making me feel self-conscious. Water dripped most unflatteringly off of me, and I uneasily wondered if this suit showed too much skin. At least it wasn't white. Bastien's warning about wholesome image came back to me for real, and I understood his concern now. Looking like a strumpet could be bad for his reputation. If he drew whispers and disdain, he might be ostracized from this group and lose access to Dana. Suddenly, Dana's frostiness didn't seem so weird. It was disapproval. She had, after all, delivered a whole spiel on the abominable state of today's fashions. Here I was embodying it.
"It's very nice," I said. "One of the, um, best pools I've swam in."
I stopped before I could say something else even more asinine, and silence fell. She looked as though she expected me to continue and could wait all night until I did. Unfortunately, I had no idea what to talk to this weird woman about. My alleged hatred of homosexuals? Ask if she had recommendations for a more modest swimsuit?
"So, um … " I began. "This barbecue theme … it's really, uh … "
I was saved just then-sort of-by Bastien. He strode up to us, appearing very excited to have found Dana. A sharp look in his eyes said he was less thrilled to see me, especially in this state, but he kept it masked from the other woman, instead coming off as amiable and charming as ever.
"Ah, Tabitha, I see you've met our hostess."
"Yes," agreed Dana. "We've been having a most stimulating conversation. Your sister's quite the wordsmith."
I flushed. Bitch. When I was in my zone, I could outtalk her any day.
"Glad to hear it. My Tabby Cat here is nothing if not stimulating."
Oblivious to my horror over my new nickname, Bastien steered her into some pleasant conversation about the creativity of the party and the beauty of her home. Her demeanor warmed up only a bit from what it was with me. She still came off cool and watchful. Maybe she was always chilly around people, and it wasn't just me. In fact, I thought optimistically, this slightly elevated interest in Bastien might indicate that she wanted to throw him up against a wall.
They conversed a bit longer about something I lost interest in, and I tried to stay inconspicuous, though I could tell I never dropped off Dana's radar. She was studying me, trying to figure me out. Finally, Bastien said good-bye, and we began our retreat toward the front door-once I'd changed back to decent clothing, of course. Our exit proved more difficult than expected since apparently it was customary to say good-bye to every single person you passed and get continually delayed by meaningless small talk.
"My God," I exclaimed once we were safely back at his place, "that was annoying."
He turned on me, anger flashing in those movie-star blue eyes. "Are you completely out of your mind?"
"Okay, you're right. I've been in more annoying situations. Remember that marquis' party back in Marseille?"
"That … that getup! When I first saw you two together, Dana looked ready to explode. Thank goodness this body's more flat chested than your other one. It saved you from looking like a complete pinup."
"I'm sorry," I told him. "I was just trying to escape those stamping women and headed for the pool without thinking. I have a suit just like this at home. It was stupid … but I don't really think it caused long-term damage." I hoped.
His expression darkened, and he threw himself into one of the living room's exquisite armchairs. It was covered in white suede. Breathing on it would probably get it dirty.
"I don't know. She was distant with me-you saw it."
"I was hoping that's how she always is. And she was a bit more responsive with you than me," I offered helpfully.
"No. You should have seen her when we spoke earlier tonight. Much friendlier. She definitely clammed up with you around."
"I'm sorry," I said again, feeling idiotic. "I guess I shouldn't take a front-row seat to this after all. I'm cramping your style. Or rather, destroying it."
His stormy expression lingered a bit longer, then disappeared like clouds swept away by wind. That was my Bastien. Quick to anger, quick to love. "No matter, Fleur .Takes a lot more than you to 'destroy my style.'" He patted his lap and grinned. "Come here, sis, and I'll tell you the rest of my brilliant plan."
I rolled my eyes. "Are we that kind of family?"
His smile broadened, and I sat down, unable to resist that goofy charm. He slung his arm around me in an old, familiar way, and I leaned into him. It was nice to have the touch and comfort of another living thing, romantic or not.
"So there's another part of this wacky plan?"