this conversation. As he’d noted before, talking to Zoey was so easy. He’d avoided her all during Elizabeth’s last weeks, probably because Zoey had been the constant reminder of things to come. That had been his loss, he was suddenly discovering.
“Just pretend you’re at the coffee shop right now, sitting at your table alone, reading your newspaper. Maybe that’ll get you through.”
“Right. I’m at the coffee shop with five hundred of my closest friends, all of them wearing tuxedos and formal gowns.” He cringed. “Think I’ll get myself a new coffee shop. One that’s a little more intimate and doesn’t have quite the same dress code.”
“Do you have a phobia about large crowds?”
Daniel shook his head. “Not really. It’s more of an avoidance issue, I think. I’m not a particularly good socializer around a lot of people, and I get frustrated trying to put myself out there in a situation where everyone, frankly, doesn’t care if you’re there or not. I like small groups better, and one-on-one interactions.”
“Well, I’ll bet that a couple of double Scotches will have you dancing on the table before the evening’s over.”
“A couple of double Scotches will have me dancing under the table.” The woman seated next to Zoey raised her eyebrows at the comment. “Speaking of which... Would you care for something from the bar?” Daniel stared directly into Zoey’s eyes, purposely averting his eyes from the plunge in her neckline. It was a nice dress. Golden. Formal. Glittery. It looked good against his black tux, looked so much better than her everyday work clothes, which was the only thing he’d ever seen her wear. But her dress tonight was a little more revealing than he dared think about. Temptations like that weren’t on his agenda. Not for the night. Not for the near future. And it was too soon to be admiring anything so tempting. “I’ll be glad to go get you something. A glass of wine? Maybe a mixed cocktail of some sort? Or a double Scotch?”
“I like wine, but not well enough to have you brave the bar mob. Or to risk you slipping out the side door when you have to walk by it.” She looked over at the horde of people still mingling around the bar. “You did intend on coming back to the table, didn’t you? Or were you going to use an errand of mercy as your excuse to leave?”
“I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch. You’re going to need that drink to brace yourself for the long evening ahead.”
“See, you’re spoiling this whole affair for me. I was looking forward to the evening, but you’re bringing me down with your negative attitude.” She tossed him a demure smile. “Elizabeth told me you hate black-tie affairs.”
“‘Hate’ is putting it mildly. Want me to explain how much I hate them?”
Zoey laughed. “I think you’ve already done that. Which leaves me to ask you if you’ve got a diagnosed antisocial condition?”
“Nope. No formal diagnosis. But a lot of opinion on the subject.” He smiled. “Starting with my parents and moving all the way forward to Elizabeth.”
“And you’ve always been this way? You know, crowd-hater?”
“I don’t hate crowds. I just avoid them when I can.”
“OK, then. Let’s try ‘stand-offish’.”
“It’s not so much about being stand-offish as it is being a loner. I don’t need a lot of people around me.”
“See, I’m just the opposite. I love affairs such as this one, and big crowds, and being with a group of strangers who could turn into potential friends. I’m so isolated in my work that getting out is a nice change for me.”
“You don’t date?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he frowned and shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business and it was too personal.”
“It was personal. But I don’t mind you asking, because my past isn’t exactly a secret. No, I don’t really date right now. Haven’t found anyone who interests me enough to put myself out for him. And, overall, I’m not very trusting of men in general because I was married and divorced, once upon a time, and the whole situation left me nervous about trying it again.”
“It was a bad marriage?”
“Almost from the start. Which, of course, I didn’t see because I was too busy looking through the eyes of love rather than seeing what was really happening around me.”
“Consequentially, you don’t date?”
“Not that I wouldn’t date someone, if he was the right one. But after I had the wrong one...” She shrugged. “It’s left me more cautious than I probably should be.”
“So how long were you married?”
“A grand total of nine months. Six of which were long and difficult.” She took a sip of water. “He was a third-year resident who was badly in need of someone to finance his education and lifestyle. I’d just earned my doctorate in nursing so I suppose I looked like a likely candidate to him. We married fast, and divorced just as fast. And in the few months we were together he never stopped looking for his next conquest—someone with deeper pockets than mine were.”
“But were you in love?”
“Totally. For about a minute. Then I finally saw the real man behind the facade and the rest, as they say, was history.”
“Did it break your heart when it didn’t work out?”
She frowned slightly. “More like, it broke my stride. Made me jittery to try again.”
“Because you’re afraid of getting hurt?”
“Because what I’ve discovered is that, when it comes to relationships, I don’t have a clue. I made a bad mistake once and I don’t trust myself not to do it again.”
“Aren’t you being a little too hard on yourself?”
Zoey shook her head. “Better hard on myself right now than divorced another time later on.”
Daniel looked up as a tall, gawky man in a red-and-black plaid tuxedo jacket took a seat in one of the two upturned chairs, finally filling up the table. “I’m Stan Kramer,” he said, more to the air than to Daniel and Zoey. “I work in account receivables. I’m a section manager.”
Daniel extended the courtesy of introducing himself and Zoey to Stan, then he fixed his eyes on Stan’s gigantic Adam’s apple as it bobbled up and down while he gulped his cocktail. After the initial introduction, Stan made no attempt to converse any further.
After the table finally filled up, the people there began to whisper amongst themselves and, for the most part, they turned into a pleasant, chatty group. Daniel did have to admit that it was nice to be around a bunch of people who weren’t patients and who didn’t want something from him. Although, mostly, he contented himself listening to the conversations of others, only participating when someone intentionally drew him in.
“You’re not enjoying yourself,” Zoey whispered in his ear. It was a statement, not a question.
“Actually, this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“But
