he could do to help.”
One of the men stood aside to let Laurel pass. Of course, she thought, Nathan observed Larry Hopkins’ fatal accident. No wonder he looked so morose.
The buffet table nearly filled the dining room. At the center, surrounded by an array of elaborate dishes, was a huge bouquet of ivory lilies and wine-red roses. Laurel poked her finger gingerly into the floral arrangement to see what was holding the lilies upright. A young man in a caterer’s apron appeared from behind her. “May I help you?” She turned crimson and snatched her hand back as if she’d been caught shoplifting.
She skipped over the silver trays laden with meats, breads, and cheeses. Only the canapes intrigued her. Laurel picked up a cornet of pale smoked salmon rolled around piped cream cheese and studied the way it was put together. She would make these when Wes got a job and she started entertaining again. She put it on a plate along with two tiny crab puffs and a stuffed egg dusted with caviar.
As she worked her way down the table, Laurel saw Caprice just ahead. Clutching her plate in one hand and her wine glass in the other, Laurel reversed direction. Or tried to.
“Watch it.” She stopped cold. Then found herself facing a tall, attractive man who was now wearing a crab puff on his tasseled loafer and splashes of wine on his navy blazer. A salmon cornet and splotches of egg lay on the floor between them.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her face ablaze.
“I hope you give better signals when you drive,” he chuckled.
He had salt-and-pepper hair, a neat mustache and a crooked smile, the kind leading men have in the movies. He looked more amused than angry. He bent down retrieved the crab puff from his shoe and scooped up the egg and salmon. Laurel stood frozen, too mortified to move.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
A waiter passed by and rolled his eyes as he took her empty plate and the fallen canapes.
“Jim Sheridan,” the man said. “I won’t shake your hand.” He looked at the gooey egg in his palm. “Reminds me of the eggs my mother used to put in my lunch box.”
“Mine, too. But with pickle relish instead of caviar.” Laurel handed him her napkin.
He wiped his hands. “A deviled egg and a peanut butter sandwich, and I thought I was in heaven,”
“Tuna sandwiches on white bread for me.”
“Bologna and cheese,” he countered. “Can I get you something? Looks like you need a refill.”
“I can get it,” she said.
“I don’t know if I trust you.”
She laughed. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
She wondered if she should offer to have his jacket cleaned. It was the decent thing to do. On the other hand, it might seem presumptuous. There was a small stain on his trousers, too, where the salmon had slid to the floor. She couldn’t very well ask him to take his pants off. She wondered if he would be as attractive in the buff as he was in stylish clothes. She blushed at the thought. Finally, she let decency win. “Let me have your jacket cleaned,” she said She decided against mentioning the pants.
“No need,” he said, “but thanks for the offer.”
Laurel flushed. He must think she was a dolt. She wished she could think of something clever to improve her image. “Do you work at Power House?” As soon as she asked, she realized how lame that sounded. She would never win an ice-breaker contest.
He smiled. “No, fortunately. I’m the Lowe’s insurance agent. What about you? How do you know them?”
She started to say her husband worked with Nathan, then stopped. She’d leave Wes out of this conversation.“I’m a friend of Zora’s.”
He glanced at her wedding ring. “If you’re sure I can’t get you a refill, I think I’ll try another of those nostalgic eggs.” He moved down the table, leaving Laurel standing beside a heart-shaped mold of jellied aspic, her appetite gone. Was it the ring or was it her? Laurel hadn’t felt like this since high school, when her prom date walked off to talk to his friends, leaving her stranded in the middle of the floor. She handed her plate to a startled passing waiter and pressed her way through the crowded front room toward the door.
Nathan, coming from behind the bar, intercepted her. “You can’t leave without having cake.” He took her arm and steered her back to the dining room. “Zora went all out on this.”
Laurel waited by the table while the caterer sliced the three-tier cake, making sure each piece had silver balls and a gold leaf. The crowd gathered round like trained seals waiting to be fed. Laurel was jostled and felt something hard dig into her back. She turned to see Jim holding a plate, a slice of cake teetering off the edge. A blob of white frosting was planted on his lapel. Laurel’s hand flew to her face. “Oh no,” she cried.
Jim grinned as he plucked icing off his jacket. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
She started to brush the remainder off his jacket, then stopped herself. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It must be my magnetic personality that keeps attracting you.”
“This time you have to let me pay for cleaning it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He set the plate on the nearby table. “I’ll just go wash it off.” He walked away before she could tell him that wouldn’t work.
She had to leave before she did any more damage. She threaded her way through clusters of guests to find her hostess. Zora was talking to Caprice. The two of them, slim and shimmering in their blue and emerald dresses reminded her of Monet’s Water Lilies. By comparison she looked like seaweed.
Laurel stood behind Caprice’s back, waiting for a chance to say goodbye but close enough to overhear their conversation.
“Now that Craig’s retired,” Caprice said, “I was hoping we’d spend more time together. But he’s always so busy with one thing or another, I never see him. Are you having the same problem with Nathan?”
“Nathan hasn’t retired.”
“I’m sorry. I thought Craig said...”Caprice clapped her hand to her mouth. “I must be thinking of someone else.” She looked over Zora’s shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Caprice headed toward Craig, who was hovering over an attractive young woman.
Apparently everybody but Zora was under the impression that Nathan had been let go, Laurel thought. Everybody must be wrong. Obviously, Zora would know. Besides, if he’d been fired, they wouldn’t be holding this extravagant event. Laurel moved in to say goodbye. This had been one of the most confusing evenings of her life. She was anxious to get home where she belonged.
Zora leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Did you know Craig was no longer at Power House?”
“I heard.”
“Nathan didn’t tell me.” Zora lowered her voice. “If I’d known, I needn’t have
