Chapter 9

The hairdresser pulled her hair back, tugging at it as she rolled it into the elegant shape that would be a French knot. Emma closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the pampering. But her thoughts were stuck on the charity ball all this fuss was about.

"Do you think there will be press from Dallas?"

"Of course," Jen answered.

Emma opened her eyes and met Jen's in the mirror. Jen's hair was already done. She'd had it straightened and it flowed like a waterfall down her back. A makeup artist was applying foundation to her tan skin, smoothing it on in quick, gentle swipes.

"There'll probably be representatives from Houston and Austin, too."

"Why?" Emma asked, trying not to wince as the hairdresser caught her nail in a tangle close to her scalp.

"Because this is a big deal. The first big event for the new mayor."

"But it's Denton. It's not like it's San Antonio."

"No, but Denton breeds the classier politicians. Everyone is always interested in them."

Emma wasn't sure about the truth in that statement, but she didn't comment. She closed her eyes again and sat back, trying to enjoy the feel of someone playing with her hair. She had always liked the sensation, but she was so nervous there were full sized birds flitting around inside her chest.

"What if I trip getting out of the car?"

"Steve will catch you."

"You're so much better at this stuff than I am," Emma groaned.

"Yes, I'm a natural."

Emma peeked at Jen, trying not to move her head. "And so humble."

"You have to be confident, Em. If you're confident, then no one has to know how incredibly frightened you really are."

Those words ran on a loop in Emma's head as she sat in the back of a limo beside Steve a few hours later. He had finally put his phone away and was looking out the window, watching the reporters flash their cameras in the eyes of the people arriving in front of them.

"It's like some crazy Hollywood party."

Emma leaned close to him so she could look out the window, too. There were dozens of reporters lined up along the outside of the country club, mostly casually dressed men with digital cameras in their hands. Her heart did a little leap in her chest as she watched.

"Welcome to politics," she said quietly, mostly to herself.

"Yeah." Steve slid his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers. "It's going to be an interesting ride."

The door opened and Steve climbed out, never letting go of her hand. He pulled her out, immediately drawing her against the length of his side as she came to her feet. She looked up at him. He was watching her, his beautiful eyes focused only on her face. The fear evaporated in that look. She no longer cared what anyone thought of her, of how she looked on film, of what she might say or do inside the party. All she cared about was the pride she saw in those eyes.

He pushed a curl behind her ear and kissed her gently.

"Let's go," he whispered.

They stopped half a dozen times on the way up the marble steps of the clubhouse to pose for pictures. Then they walked through the doors and were suddenly overwhelmed by music, voices, and bright lights. The place had been transformed from a quiet getaway to a gaily decorated crystal paradise. There were twinkling lights draped over every possible surface. Expensive flowers on each table, linen tablecloths, and silk covers on each of the chairs. A dance floor was the centerpiece of the room with a four piece orchestra playing beautiful arias and concertos at the far end of the room.

"Wow," Emma whispered.

"Pretty amazing," Steve agreed.

The moment they stepped into the room, they were surrounded by people who wanted to shake the hand of the new mayor. Emma respectfully moved back, allowing the people access to her husband. But he reached for her and pulled her close. That was where she remained the rest of the night, pressed against the side of her husband. She couldn't imagine a better place to be.

As they moved through the room, she could feel eyes on them. From time to time, she would covertly glance around, curious who was watching. There were beautiful women who admired Steve in his tuxedo. Their gazes were filled with things Emma understood to a certain extent. Envy. Desire. Jealousy. But what surprised her was the way those emotions were applied to her as well as Steve. It occurred to her several hours into the event that some of these women were jealous of her, jealous of her relationship with Steve, jealous of her position in his life.

It made her wonder what it was they thought they were seeing.

Jen and Ray worked the opposite side of the room. Emma could hear Jen's laughter from time to time. If there was anyone Emma would be jealous of, it was Ray and Jen. They had a quick charm that was infectious, a relationship that was worth envy. With all of Jen's easiness with sex and the flirting she often indulged in, Emma knew that she and Ray were as solid in their relationship as anyone.

And then there was Liz, Steve's personal assistant.

Liz was wearing a white gown that hugged every inch of her tiny frame. She had a body like a mermaid in that dress, high hips that flared just perfectly and a chest that should have been too high and too heavy for her petite frame, but somehow worked just perfectly barely encased in her dress. And confidence-she herded the people around Steve like a rancher charming his herd of cows. Emma couldn't help but be annoyed by Liz's sense of possession over Steve.

And the way she looked at him-

Toward the end of the evening, Steve walked Emma into the middle of the dance floor and took her gently into his arms.

"Smile," he whispered into her ear.

"My cheeks feel like they're about to fall off," she whispered back.

He laughed, his eyes dancing with the merriment of it. "I know. Mine, too."

She moved closer to him, sliding her hand under his open jacket. It was nice, the feel of his heat against the palm of her hand. She wanted this moment to last, wanted him to hold her this way for the rest of her life.

He ran his hand down her back, slipped his fingers over the bumps of her spine where they were exposed by her backless dress. One of his hands slipped down over the curves at the base of her spine, the other moving up to cup her neck. She looked up at him, caught him watching her with something like regret in his eyes. She kissed his chin lightly.

"I love you," she whispered.

His eyes widened slightly, as though those were the last words he expected to fall from her lips. For a brief second, he pulled her closer. She could feel the flexing of his muscles, could feel the pounding of his heart. His lips touched hers ever so lightly.

"Hey, time to switch."

Suddenly, Emma was yanked out of Steve's arms and pulled into Ray's. Jen was laughing as she danced away with Steve.

"Bad timing. Sorry," Ray said.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Don't worry about it."

Ray studied her face for a minute and then he smiled, dropped a kiss on her forehead before he spun her around in a quick twirl. "It's a party," he said.

"It is." And then she laughed like she hadn't done in months.

They shared a limo afterward, reluctant to end the party. Somehow they all ended up in Ray's basement den, a man cave complete with a full service bar, minus the bartender. Emma had a few too many glasses of wine at the party, though, so she opted out of the cocktails Jen was making like a pro.

"Come on, Emma," she said. "You know you want to."

"I know I have to be up at dawn to get the boys to school in the morning. Not to mention the construction crew that's due on my front steps by eight."

"Oh, responsibilities," Jen groaned, drawing the word out like it tasted badly on her tongue. "Can't we just forget those for once?"

"I wish."

Emma settled on the couch beside Steve. She slid her hand into his, but his fingers were stiff, her touch not as welcome as before. She looked up at him, but he was watching Jen with a thoughtfulness on his face that should have set off warning bells but didn't.

Steve had always looked at Jen as something like a sister, a very beautiful, very determined sister. In college, Ray wasn't the only one who pushed Steve with a spirit of competition. He and Jen studied the same major, took most of their classes together. It became a joke between the four of them, Jen's struggle to beat Steve in grades and the various projects that came with a computer science major.

They were friends. He worried about her.

Emma leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. "She's fine," she said.

"She's drinking too much."

"Jen always drinks too much."

He glanced at her, anger in his movement. "She shouldn't. We're getting too old for this shit."

Emma squeezed his fingers. "Let Ray worry about it. We should go home."

"Not now."

"Steve, really, she's fine."

Steve pulled away and crossed to the bar. "Why don't you take Emma home, Ray?"

Ray sat up in the recliner where he had been slowly falling asleep. "Why?"

"Because she's tired and Jen wants to party some more."

"So, we're doing a swap?"

"Sure," Steve said, already slipping behind the bar and grabbing the bottle of tequila out of Jen's hands. "Take my wife home, Ray, and I'll sober up yours."

"I don't need you to sober me up," Jen said.

"You need someone to."

"Look at Steve, being the Boy Scout, like always," Ray said as he stood, patting his pants pockets in a search for his keys. "Come on, Ems."

"Really, Steve," Emma said, irritation starting to color her words, "come home with me. Let Ray take care of Jen."

"Yeah," Jen said, nudging Steve with her shoulder. "Go home with your wife, Steve."

Steve ignored her, crossing the room to Emma. He pulled her aside, leaning close to whisper to her. "There are some things I need to talk to Jen about, Emma. Important things," he said, staring into her eyes with deep determination. "I need you to do this without arguing."

"Do you really think now is the time to have a serious conversation with her?"

"I think I better take the opportunity while I can."

Emma looked up at him for a long second. She ran her hand along his jaw. He reached up and grabbed her hand, pressing it to his face before pulling it away. "Please," he whispered.

Emma finally relented, too tired to keep arguing. "Be home soon."

He kissed the tip of her nose the way he used to, the way he did when they were first dating. "I will."

If promises were pennies-

Emma fell asleep alone.

She also woke alone.