any commitment. He did his best for his clients and he didn’t like her thinking he took advantage of other people’s misery. “The way I look at it, I’m the one who gets them out of their misery. Have you every been married?”
She shook her head. “Have you?”
“No.”
“I can see why.”
“Because of my thinning hair, my bloodshot eyes, my bowed legs?” he teased.
She blushed and let her gaze slide from his face then down to his Top-Siders, as if she was trying to decide what really had prevented him for getting married. “No, I mean you must get discouraged dealing with divorces all day. No wonder you haven’t taken the plunge yourself. All those bitter people out there. If I were you, I’d avoid marriage also.”
“Why have you?” he asked.
“I…I…I haven’t met the right person,” she said, shifting her gaze to the guests.
“Tell me,” he said, “do these people look bitter to you?” They might be bitter, but he thought they put up a pretty good front.
People were laughing, men were tossing a beach ball back and forth across the pool, a few women were dangling their legs in the shallow end of the pool, while others were tossing down exotic drinks, and some couples were even nuzzling on colorful chaise lounges.
“I guess not. They actually look pretty happy. I’m sure that’s thanks to you. You got them out of a bad situation into something better.”
“That’s how I look at it, otherwise…”
She looked at him as if waiting expectantly for him to finish his sentence. As if she really wanted to know. Otherwise, what would he do? He was a divorce lawyer, one of the best. He was in demand. And he would be as long as he did his job and got his clients large settlements. What would he do if he didn’t think he’d improved his clients’ situation? He met her gaze, looked into her clear blue eyes and answered her as firmly as he could. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night,” he said.
She looked away and a tiny frown line appeared between her fine eyebrows. When he mentioned sleep, did it trigger some memory of last night? Did she wonder if she’d had an episode? Did she remember anything?
“Well,” she said, brushing her hands together as if to dismiss any worries, either his or hers. “Don’t let me keep you from your schmoozing.”
When she said that, he realized he’d been talking to her exclusively for a long time and hadn’t noticed what was going on behind him at the party. Not that anyone else had missed him. Just a glance told him that his guests were milling and mixing and generally amusing themselves. They didn’t even miss him.
“I’d better get back to the guests. Come on, let me introduce you…”
“I can introduce myself.”
He shot her a quick look. “Okay.” But he thought it wasn’t likely she’d go up to strangers. More likely she’d stand around and sneak back to her house when he wasn’t looking.
Before he could make the rounds, his cell phone rang and he went inside to give directions to someone who couldn’t find the house. He stood by the open French doors looking out at the party scene, his eyes glued to Sarah. She was standing at the edge of the pool, talking to an old college buddy of his whose divorce had been finalized last month.
He had to say, in her dress and pale skin, she stood out like an English rose in the middle of a tropical garden. Of all the women there, she was refreshingly different. Frisbees sailed through the air, couples danced on the patio to the live music and a beach ball bounced off the diving board and into the deep end.
Suddenly there was a scream and a splash and he went running out to the pool. There was Sarah flailing about in the deep end, her head sinking under the water, her hair trailing behind her.
“Call 911,” he yelled. Then Max jumped into the water to save her.
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