Darcy and Carter return to our table, and after some last-minute instruction, Gabriel leaves to manage hosting duties. It’s fascinating to watch the Boudreaux family work together. Even on opening night, they all take charge of different areas, working together like an exquisite medley of flavors.
We’re alone once more, Daniel and I.
“Your family is amazing,” I say, and he grins. Their affection for each other is obvious.
“There’s not much time left before the guests arrive,” he says. “But I really wanted to talk about what happened yesterday.”
“Are you sure you want to discuss this right now?” I ask. “We can talk after the party if you want. I promise I’ll stay to listen. You sort of have a lot going on right now.”
“I can’t bear to leave this unresolved,” he says. “I know what you must be thinking—”
“Daniel, you’re needed up front,” says Gabriel, poking his head inside the doorway. “Press is here.”
“Go,” I say. “It’s your big night. We can talk about it later.”
He smiles. “It’sourbig night.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand, and then follows his brother outside.
76
I head out to our table, where Carter and Darcy are enjoying their drinks and the thrill of good gossip.
“I told Carter about the Daniel situation,” says Darcy. “We need his advice.” This was what I both love and hate about having such a close-knit group of friends. There are no secrets. Even when you want secrets.
“Has Daniel told you his side of the story?” asks Carter.
“No,” I say. “Why, do you know what it is?”
“No,” he answers, downing the rest of his drink. I squeeze the lime into my Perrier and take a sip. I need ice.
“He tried to tell me just now,” I say, “but then he got pulled away to do an interview.”
“We think you should listen to him,” says Darcy matter-of-factly.
“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who told me to run screaming in the other direction?” I ask.
“I’ve reevaluated,” she says. “Half my clients are guys who cheat on their wives and girlfriends, and I’ll be the first one to tell you that’s a losing proposition. But this doesn’t feel like that. If the screaming lady was important, she’d be here. And if she was anywhere to be found, you’d be hiding out in the powder room or in the back of a taxi headed for home. But she’s not here, is she?”
“Not that I’ve seen,” I say. “But if I disappear tonight, you should probably drag the bottom of the bay.”
“Will do,” says Carter cheerfully.
“He’s introduced you to his family, he put a clearly intimate picture of the two of you in a very public spot,” Darcy says. “I think there’s more to this story, and you need to find out what it is.”
“I’ll listen to what he has to say, but I can’t think about this right now. If the Boudreaux opening tonight isn’t a complete and spectacular success, I’m cooked,” I say. “After last night, I might as well close up shop.”
“Are you out of your mind?” asked Darcy.
“Yes,” I say. “Why do you ask?”
“One of my clients called me today because she wants to hire you for all her major fund-raisers next cycle. It’s a bit funny because she had no idea we even knew each other. It could be big for you. Fantastic money, great exposure.”
“Who?”
“She’s a Democratic congresswoman from Miami,” says Darcy. “Young, smart, very savvy. She’s well funded and running for Senate next cycle. Anyway, she sits on the board for the Wildlife Foundation and she was at your little underwater shindig last night.”
“Oh gawd,” I moan. “So much for that job. What a disaster.”
“Well, my client told me that disaster raised almost one-point-two million dollars last night. That’s a forty percent bump over last year’s numbers. Do you know how huge that is in this economy? Plus, the flood at the Ritz made the front page of the newspaper, so you’ll probably get a few sympathy donations from that as well.”