asked, drawing him back to the here and now.
“You bet. I’m making some headway with Tommy.”
“We’ve noticed. And so has his teacher. We all appreciate what you’ve done for him—the private tour of police headquarters, the ride-along in a patrol car, the visit to the ice cream shop afterward. Tommy’s never had anyone take a special interest in him.”
“Sometimes, that’s all it takes.” At least, that’s how it had worked for Adam. Stan, his mentor, had been a cop, too. A patrolman who’d found him hanging out in the city park one night after curfew. A guy who’d eventually become his foster dad and his best friend.
Adam again glanced to the buffet table where he’d last seen Lisa, when Donna tugged at his poofy sleeve. “You keep looking across the room. What, or rather who, has caught your eye?”
Donna had been happily married for more than thirty-five years, and she thought everyone ought to take that same route, including Adam.
“I like looking at all the costumes,” he lied.
“Aren’t most of them great? It’s amazing how some people go all out for an event like this.”
He agreed, although it was one particular outfit that had caught his eye. He was just about to excuse himself and head for the buffet table when he glanced that way again and realized Lisa was no longer there. He took another scan of the room, including the dance floor, but she seemed to have vanished.
Maybe she’d gone to powder her nose—or whatever it was that sexy space women did.
What the hell? The night was still young. He’d find time to talk to her. And now that he’d seen her outside of her blurry photo, meeting her in person had become a high priority.
The food hadn’t been brought out yet, but Julie Chapman didn’t like the way the buffet table had been set up in the local Grange Hall. Before changing things around, she returned to the kitchen and asked Ralph Graystone, her boss and the owner of Silver Spoon Catering, if she had his permission to do so.
“Go ahead,” Ralph told her as he filled a platter with appetizers. “You did a great job on the decorations at that wedding we catered last weekend, so I trust your judgment.”
Julie thanked him, then returned to the party, stopping in the doorway long enough to tug at one of the flimsy black strips that made up her short skirt, the length of which had obviously been altered.
When Ralph asked the crew to wear costumes for tonight’s event, she’d objected at first, explaining that she didn’t have anything to wear.
Borrow something, he’d told her. It’s a Halloween party. We’re all dressing up. I’m going to wear my chef’s hat, but I’m painting my face like the Joker. And don’t forget it’s a charitable event.
And that was the only reason Julie had decided to be a good sport about it, but she wasn’t the least bit happy about the Star Wars getup Carlene, her coworker, had loaned her this afternoon, saying, You’ll be a space princess. A sexy badass.
Julie had expected to wear some kind of sci-fi getup, but she had no idea that Carlene had shortened and altered the intergalactic costume to the point that Julie would reveal way too much skin. Unfortunately, she’d waited until the last minute to pick it up, and by the time she tried it on, it was too late to find something else.
Carlene, who was dressed as a bawdy tavern wench, her double Ds practically pouring out of the low-cut bodice, didn’t seem the least bit uneasy about the way she was dressed. But unlike Julie, Carlene ran with a wilder crowd.
Still, when she entered the Grange Hall kitchen earlier, she’d told Carlene that she’d brought her Silver Spoon Catering shirt and a pair of black slacks with her and suggested it as a more appropriate option.
Her friend had clucked her tongue. Don’t be a party pooper, Julie. We’re all dressing up this evening. Just go with the theme and have fun.
So here she was, trying to make the best of it. And from the bursts of laughter coming from the people mingling in small groups and from the smiles of those kicking up their heels on the dance floor, everyone in attendance seemed to be having a good time so far. But that didn’t make Julie feel better about the way she was dressed.
Still, she had a heart for children, as well as the elderly. In fact, if she hadn’t been working at the gala, she would have gladly paid to attend.
As she added the finishing touch to the second of two buffet lines, she scanned the festive Grange Hall, which the gala committee had decorated with wispy ghosts, dangling bats and spiderwebs. Then she double-checked the dinner tables.
Silver Spoon Catering had provided the food at a discount. The generous donation to the cause had actually been her boss’s attempt to promote his new business venture and to impress some of the wealthier people in the area.
As Julie noted the smiling attendees, she suspected Ralph’s plan just might work. She took a moment to admire their costumes, some of which were pretty cool.
One in particular, a man dressed as Zorro, caught her eye once more. The dark-haired, olive-skinned hunk was wearing black slacks, a crisp white shirt opened at the collar and a half mask. It was a great outfit, especially for a hot guy who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
She’d first noticed him when he’d entered the Grange Hall with a confident stride, clearly sure of himself. Off and on, she’d studied him surreptitiously, wondering who he was and realizing that he sure seemed to know most of the people here.
There was something vibrant about him, something alluring that drew her attention. So much so, that she continued to steal glances his way every chance she got.
She’d better be careful, though. She had work to do and a job she needed to keep, even if she considered it only temporary.
She’d no more than turned away from the buffet line when she spotted Santa Claus. She recognized him instantly. It was Jim Hoffman, the director of Kidville—and just the guy she’d hoped to meet. Now was her chance. So she approached the heavyset gentleman and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Hoffman. My name is Julie Chapman, and I’m a music therapist. I’d like to make an appointment to speak to you about a job at Kidville.”
He brightened, his eyes twinkling just like jolly ol’ St. Nick’s. “My wife and I would love to incorporate music into our therapy program, but our funding is stretched to the limit right now, so I’m afraid we can’t offer a paid position.”
Julie actually needed a steady paycheck, which was why she’d gone to work for the catering company. But she could also use some experience to add to her resume, not to mention an opportunity to get a foot in the door at Kidville.
“I’d be willing to volunteer for the time being,” she said.
“Now, that’s an interesting proposition. Do you have any experience?”
“I graduated recently and, other than working with children during my internship, I haven’t had a paid position yet. But I majored in music, play several instruments and sing in my church choir.”
“I’d like to discuss this further and hear more about your thoughts on a music therapy program,
