“Just a glass of wine,” Sarah said and covered Emory’s hand with her own. “It’s hard chasing down those waiters. They’re super fast.” And then, “I met your friends.”
“You did? Which ones?”
“Mia, Barrett, and Christi Ann. Lucy introduced us.”
The thought made Emory a little queasy. She’d wanted to control the flow of that conversation, as she knew how Mia and Christi Ann could come off. Plus, she felt so far removed from them lately that she now wondered what had brought them together as friends in the first place. Our parents, she reminded herself, our parents had been friends. “They have their good and bad moments,” she said neutrally.
“I thought they were nice.”
“Really? Sometimes they can be…I don’t know, hard to read.” Judgmental bitches. That’s what she wanted to say. Sometimes they could be judgmental bitches, and she wanted to keep Sarah as far away from them as possible. “I have an idea.”
Sarah eyed her. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a tray of hors d’oeuvres over there with our name on it. Why don’t we hit that up and have a nice little dinner in the laundry room, just the two of us, like we planned? Then afterward we can face the music and mingle with these people who have taken over my house.”
“Me and my crazy appetite like this plan of yours. Are you sure we won’t get in trouble? You know, for playing hooky from your party? You are the guest of honor.”
“It’s possible. This is a risky endeavor. Are you in?”
“I’ll take my chances.” Sarah moved lightning quick to the covered tray. Emory heard someone in the living room crank the stereo up another ten decibels. They were entering phase two of the party, which meant the more respectable types would head for the door, and the alcohol would flow more freely among the fun seekers. This was going to be a long night.
Alone in the laundry room, they dined on the floor facing each other, Emory enjoying their impromptu picnic.
Sarah grabbed for a napkin and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Why is it we eat on the floor so much when I visit?”
“Excellent question. Maybe it’s just our thing.”
She considered this. “I could be okay with that. It’s kind of fun. No one else invites me to eat on their floor.”
“I’m special then.”
“I’ve often thought so.” Sarah surveyed the plate of white bean and caper crostini, stuffed mushrooms, and jumbo shrimp cocktail. It was an eclectic dinner, but one she wouldn’t soon forget. Tasty too.
“I hate that we were interrupted earlier,” Emory said. Her eyes were dancing as she lightly dabbed a crumb from the corner of Sarah’s mouth.
“Me too.”
“I was thinking, maybe we can find our way back there later tonight.”
“Well, in my experience, when it’s someone’s birthday, they get pretty much anything they want.”
“Oh good, because I really, really want you.” Emory looked into her eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, you make me happy.” Sarah placed a gentle hand on her cheek as she listened. “And I haven’t felt—”
“There you two are,” Lucy announced. She sauntered into the laundry room with her hand on her hip. “I hate to break things up yet again, I feel like I’m always doing that, but the birthday girl is sorely missed. Come on, woman, you’re in high demand out there. Step to it. You can make eyes at each other later, I promise.”
Emory took Sarah’s hand from where it rested on her cheek and squeezed it. “Guess our time is up. Join me?”
“Right behind you. I just want to freshen up a little first.”
“Okay, you can use my room. Oh, and maybe bring Walter back with you? He’s bound to be antsy up there all alone. He’ll enjoy getting to meet everyone.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll meet you on the front lines.”
Sarah grinned and offered a mock salute.
The party was boisterous, Emory noticed upon her return, but nothing seemed to be broken or in danger, the main reason she didn’t often give parties, so she decided to just let the night run its course. Someone had opened up the room to the outside, and many of the guests had taken up residence on the deck. A comfortable breeze moved through the living space, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. She made a quick lap around the downstairs, saying a great many “hellos” and “thank you for comings,” before settling in with Barrett, who was generally a good person to stick by.
Barrett looked at her apologetically. “I told Lucy you wouldn’t be wild about a surprise party, but you seem to be handling it rather well.”
“Thanks, Bar. You’re right, it’s not exactly my thing, but I am happy to see you. I miss hanging out, the talks we used to have.”
“Me too. We should make time to get together more, though you seem to have more on your plate than usual. She’s gorgeous, by the way, and incredibly sweet.”
“She is.” Emory beamed. “Among other things. I think you’re really going to like her.”
“Like who? The mystery woman?” Mia sidled up next to Emory with Christi Ann not far behind.
“She’s not a mystery woman, Mia.”
“Then why haven’t you mentioned her before?”
“It didn’t come up.” Emory tossed away the comment as if it was the most casual thing in the world, but Mia didn’t seem convinced.
On the second floor, Sarah took a few moments to run a brush through her hair and greet Walter properly. After her cheek had been thoroughly covered with kisses, she ushered him down the stairs to the party. His loyalty was fleeting, however, as he made a beeline for the outdoors, clearly looking for a good frolic by the water. Such a beach dog, she thought, amused at his never-ending enthusiasm.
She easily located Emory, engrossed in conversation with Mia and her set. She stood off to the side a moment and watched, proud of the confident manner in which Emory carried herself, complete with the dazzling smile that never failed to make Sarah’s knees go weak. She was lucky, she thought, very lucky to be with such an amazing, intelligent woman.
“So where exactly did you meet Sarah, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She’s a client,” Emory offered, refusing to give Mia too much information. Flashbacks of her sister’s pretentious comments about Sarah raced through her mind in rapid succession. She wouldn’t allow that kind of judgment at Sarah’s expense to happen again, especially not from Mia.
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Sarah said. She joined the group and handed Emory one of the glasses of wine she’d snagged on her way over. “You were my client first, remember? Don’t forget that part.” Sarah shot her a questioning look, clearly not understanding the omission.
“Really?” Christi Ann chimed in. “In what regard? As you can see, Emory never tells us anything anymore.”
“With good reason,” Emory answered icily, a plastic smile in place.
“Unfortunately, it was shortly after Emory’s mother passed away,” Sarah began. “I was hired to help prepare the house to be sold.”
“She impressed me to no end and the rest is history. I’m keeping her. What about you, Barrett, I heard you were also seeing someone. How’s that going?”
Sarah was again puzzled. She looked at Emory, who seemed incredibly eager to move on from the conversation, and it slowly began to make sense to her. Emory didn’t want her friends to know that Sarah worked for a cleaning company.
She felt the blood drain from her face and she stared, lost, into the depths of her glass.
Before Barrett could answer, Christi Ann held up a hand. “Wait, so Sarah was your realtor?”
“No,” Sarah answered, raising her head confidently. “I was her cleaning woman.” She faced Emory fully.