apparently she is,” Ellen hissed.
“Maybe Reed and I should wrestle to decide the winner,” Ralph suggested, glancing at Ellen and sharing a comical grin.
“Maybe.”
Obviously, Reed saw no humor in the situation. Anger darkened his handsome face, and a muscle twitched in his jaw as the tight rein on his patience slipped.
Ralph withdrew his hand. “Go ahead and dance. It’s obvious you two have a lot to talk about.”
Reed took Ellen in his arms. “I suppose you’re furious,” he muttered.
“Have I got anything to be angry about?” she asked calmly. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she felt somewhat distanced from the whole predicament.
“Of course you do. But I want a chance to explain.”
“Don’t bother. I’ve got the picture.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
Ellen stubbornly refused to look up at him, resisting for as long as she could, but eventually she gave in. “It doesn’t matter. Ralph said he’d take me home and—”
“I’ve already made my feelings on that subject quite clear.”
“Listen, Reed. Your Porsche seats two. Is Danielle supposed to sit on my lap?”
“She came uninvited. Let her find her own way home.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I certainly do.”
“You can’t humiliate Danielle like that.” Ellen didn’t mention how she felt. What was the point? “Don’t—”
“She deserves it,” he broke in.
“Reed, no.” Her hold on his forearm tightened. “This is unpleasant enough for all of us. Don’t compound it.”
The song ended and the music faded from the room. Reed fastened his hand on Ellen’s elbow, guiding her across the floor to where Danielle was standing with Ralph. The two of them were sipping champagne.
“Hello again,” Ellen began amicably, doing her utmost to appear friendly, trying to smooth over an already awkward situation.
“Hello.” Danielle stared at Ellen curiously, apparently not recognizing her.
“You remember Ellen Cunningham, don’t you?” Reed said.
“Not that college girl your brother’s renting a room to—” Danielle stopped abruptly, shock etched on her perfect features. “You’re Ellen Cunningham?”
“In the flesh.” Still trying to keep things light, she cocked her head toward Ralph and spoke stagily out of the side of her mouth, turning the remark into a farcical aside. “I wasn’t at my best when we met the first time.”
“You were fiddling around with that electrical outlet and Reed was horrified,” Danielle inserted, her voice completely humorless, her eyes narrowed assessingly. “You didn’t even look like a girl.”
“She does now.” Ralph beamed her a brilliant smile.
“Yes.” Danielle swallowed, her face puckered with concern. “She looks very...nice.”
“Thank you.” Ellen bowed her head.
“I’ve made a terrible mess of things,” Danielle continued, casually handing her half-empty glass to a passing waiter. “Reed mentioned the party weeks ago, and Mom and I had this ski party planned. I told him I couldn’t attend and then I felt guilty because Reed’s been so sweet, escorting me to all the charity balls.”
Ellen didn’t hear a word of explanation beyond the fact that Reed had originally asked Danielle to the party. The other woman had just confirmed Ellen’s suspicions, and the hurt went through her like a thousand needles. He’d invited her only because Danielle couldn’t attend.
“There’s no problem,” Ellen said in a bland voice. “I understand how these things happen. He asked you first, so you stay and I’ll leave.”
“I couldn’t do that,” Danielle murmured.
Reed’s eyes were saying the same thing. Ellen ignored him, and she ignored Danielle. Slipping her hand around Ralph’s arm, she looked up at him and smiled, silently thanking him for being her friend. “As I said, it’s not a problem. Ralph’s already offered to take me home.”
Reed’s expression was impassive, almost aloof, as she turned toward him. “I’m sure you won’t mind.”
“How understanding of you,” Danielle simpered, locking her arm around Reed’s.
“It’s better than hand-to-hand combat. I don’t really care for fighting.”
Danielle looked puzzled, while Ralph choked on a swallow of his drink, his face turning several shades of red as he struggled to hide his amusement. The only one who revealed no sense of humor was Reed, whose face grew more and more shadowed.
The band struck up a lively song and the dance floor quickly filled. “Come on, Reed,” Danielle said, her blue eyes eager. “Let’s dance.” She tugged at Reed’s hand and gave a little wriggle of her hips. “You know how much I love to dance.”
So Reed had done his share of dancing with Danielle—probably at all those charity balls she’d mentioned. Ellen had guessed as much and yet he’d tried to give her the impression that he rarely danced.
But noticing the stiff way Reed held himself now, Ellen could almost believe him.
Ralph placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”
Watching Reed with Danielle in his arms was absurdly painful; her throat muscles constricted in an effort to hold back tears and she simply nodded.
“Since we’ll be skipping the banquet, shall we go have dinner somewhere?”
Ellen blinked. Dinner. “I’m not really hungry,” she said.
“Sure you’re hungry,” Ralph insisted. “We’ll stop at a nice restaurant before I drive you home. I know where Reed’s place is, so I know where you live. Don’t look so shocked. I figured it out from what you and Danielle were saying. But don’t worry, I understand—impoverished students sharing a house and all that. So, what do you say? We’ll have a leisurely dinner and get home two hours after Reed. That should set him thinking.”
Ellen didn’t feel in any mood to play games at Reed’s expense. “I’d rather not.”
Ralph’s jovial expression sobered. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He smiled. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go.”
The night
