or, even worse, an old teacher they couldn’t quite place.
The high-school gymnasium looked great, if she did say so herself. The decoration committee, of which she was a part, had worked hard and done a fabulous job. Fresh flowers were everywhere, on the tables and in huge rented vases along the walls.
The band was already playing, and almost involuntarily Justine tapped her foot to the music as she waited in line to collect her badge and sign in. Everyone around her was talking; she was surrounded by squeals of recognition and “do you remember when’s.” Just as she had in high school, she remained the outsider, listening in, smiling and pretending she felt at ease when she didn’t.
Attending this reunion was a bad idea. Her instincts had told her that months earlier, and she should’ve heeded them.
“Justine!” Lana Rothchild hurried around the sign-in table and hugged her as though it’d been years since they’d seen each other. Actually they’d worked on the decorations together that very morning. “I love your dress.”
“Thanks.” The metallic-blue dress had short sleeves and a deep V in front. Knee-length, it clung to her trim figure. She’d bought the dress on impulse and had decided not to think too hard about it.
“Do you need any help?” Justine asked, looking for a way to appear busy and needed and part of the group.
“Everything’s under control. You just enjoy yourself.”
Justine wondered if that was possible.
“I can’t thank you enough for all the help you gave us,” Lana said as she handed Justine a badge.
With no further excuse to linger, she walked into the main part of the gymnasium. A few couples were dancing, a clump of women had gathered on one side, a group of men on the other—not all that different from the high-school dances she’d attended. Thinking a glass of wine would relax her, she found the bar and ordered a zinfandel, then stood by herself on the outskirts of the dance floor. It had been the same ten years earlier.
“Hello, Justine.”
Seth Gunderson stood directly in front of her, deeply tanned, his hair so blond it was almost white. His eyes had never looked bluer.
“What are you doing here?”
He grinned. “I graduated the same year as you, remember?”
“I mean…” She found it difficult to think. “Aren’t you…I thought…well, of course we graduated the same—”
“I flew home for the reunion,” he said, answering the question she couldn’t seem to get past her teeth.
“I realize that…what about…” Rather than continue making an idiot of herself, she simply stopped talking.
“You’re surprised to see me. Actually, I surprised myself by deciding to fly down at the last minute.”
Surprised was an understatement, as far as Justine was concerned.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
She couldn’t stop staring at him. No man on earth had a right to look this good. Refusing him would have required more effort than she could possibly muster. Oh, yes, she wanted to dance with him. Wanted to slide into his arms, be held by him…
Rather than attempt to respond verbally—at the rate she was going she hadn’t a clue what might actually come out of her mouth—she nodded and put her wineglass on a nearby table.
Seth led her onto the dance floor and turned her into his embrace. Naturally—fittingly—the band was playing a slow dance and she lifted her arms as he held her loosely. Justine was amazed at how well-suited they were physically. At five-ten and in heels, she was taller than most of the men, but Seth still had several inches on her. She rested her head against his shoulder and breathed in his clean, outdoor scent.
This was the first time she’d ever danced with him.
“You came alone?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
The music was mesmerizing and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and give herself completely over to it. That couldn’t happen, especially with Seth. She couldn’t allow herself to be trapped in the magic of the moment. She refused to let her guard down, certain that as soon as she did, Seth would ask her about Warren, or the engagement.
“I did, too,” he said after a minute. “Came here alone, I mean.”
He wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his chest. Justine felt the solid, steady beat of his heart. It seemed to travel through her hand and the pulse in her wrist, directly to her own heart. His eyes held her, and with their steps in unison, this was the most sensual, seductive moment of her life.
When the love song ended, Seth released her. She moved away from him and clapped politely.
“Do you have a table yet?” Seth asked.
“Lana asked me to sit with her and Jay.”
“Well, Jay invited me to sit with him and Lana,” Seth told her, eyes twinkling.
So the Rothchilds were involved in a little matchmaking. Just now, it was very easy to forgive them.
“The buffet isn’t until nine.”
“I know,” she said, wondering if he was inviting her to dance again. If so, he didn’t need to ask. When the music started, they moved toward each other as though magnetically drawn.
Other than the few times they stopped to talk to friends, Justine and Seth danced every dance. Soon the buffet table was ready and a line of revelers straggled around the gym floor. Seth bought them each a glass of wine and sat next to her at the table for eight.
It wasn’t long before Justine fell into conversation with the others. Soon pictures of her classmates’ children were passed around and she found herself looking at the cherubic faces and listening to stories full of love and pride. Justine carried a small photograph of her newborn niece and showed it to Seth.
“James is married? When did this happen?”
“Earlier in the year. Isn’t Isabella beautiful?” Justine had made a firm decision not to be a mother, but as she studied the photographs she was handed, she felt an intense and unexpected longing. It would eventually pass; she recognized that, even as she struggled to deal with a slew of unwelcome emotions.
“Excuse me,” she said, getting to her feet. Instead of heading for the ladies’ room, Justine walked outside, out the front door, letting the cool air revive her. She leaned against the flagpole and closed her eyes, breathing in the night air and with it the return of her rational self. She wasn’t like those people back inside the school. She never had been. She was separate, different. Not above them, just not one of them. She’d known it in high school and felt it even more profoundly ten years out.
“Justine?” Seth joined her. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She was quick to assure him that everything was fine, but he wasn’t fooled.
“What
