Black Rose

who’s decided to be embarrassed by her friendship, such as it was, with me. It’s foolishness, but she’s a foolish sort. I, on the other hand, will enjoy making her feel awkward.”
    She stretched back and spoke with satisfaction. “But then, I have a mean streak.”
    “I always liked that about you.”
    “Good thing,” she said as they turned toward the club. “Because it’s likely to come out tonight.”

    IT WAS FASCINATING, to Mitch’s mind, to see how this set worked. The fancy dress, the fancy manners were a kind of glossy coat over what he thought of as basic high school clique syndrome. People formed small packs, at tables, in corners, or at strategic points where they could watch other packs. There were a few butterflies who flitted from group to group, flashing their wings, dipping into some of the nectar of gossip, then fluttering off to the next.
    Fashion was one of the hot topics. He lost count of the times he overheard a murmured variation of: Bless her heart, she must’ve been drinking when she bought that dress.
    He’d had a taste of it at Roz’s holiday party, but this time out he was her escort, and he noted that changed the dynamics considerably.
    And he was the new kid in class.
    He was given the once-over countless times, asked who he was, what he was, who his people were. Though the manner of interrogation was always charming, he began to feel as if he should have a résumé typed up and ready to hand out.
    Ages ran from those who’d certainly danced to the swing music the band played when it was new, to those who’d consider the music retro and hip.
    All in all, he decided as he discreetly avoided discussing the more salient details of his work on the Harper family with a curious couple named—he thought—Bing and Babs, it was an interesting change of pace for a guy in a rented tux.
    Spotting Josh, he used his son as an excuse to cut the inquisition short. “Excuse me, my son’s just come in. I need to speak with him.”
    Mitch made a beeline through the tuxedos and gowns. “Hey, you clean up good.” He gave Josh a one-armed hug around the shoulders, then smiled at the little brunette. “You must be Shelby.”
    “Yes, sir. You have to be Josh’s daddy. He looks just like you.”

    “That takes care of the intros. Wow.” Josh scanned the room. “Some hot-dog stand.”
    The ballroom was draped with twinkling lights, festooned with spring flowers. Wait staff manned one of three bars or roamed the room with trays of drinks and canapés. Diamonds glittered, emeralds flashed as couples took the dance floor to a hot rendition of Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing.”
    “Yeah, a little Philadelphia Story .”
    “What?”
    Mitch sent Josh a pitying glance. “There were movies made before The Terminator .”
    “So you say, Pops. Where’s your date?” Josh asked.
    “She got swept away. I’ve been... oh, here she comes.”
    “Sorry, got myself cornered. Hello, Shelby. Don’t you look pretty.”
    “Thanks, Ms. Harper. That’s an awesome dress. Josh said you were coming with his father.”
    “It’s nice to meet you at last, Josh. Your father’s full of talk about you.”
    “Same goes. We’ll have to find a quiet corner and compare notes.”
    “I’d love to.”
    “I see my parents over there.” Shelby nodded toward a table. “I’d like to introduce you, Josh, and your daddy. Then I’ll have done my duty, and you can dance with me.”
    “Sounds like a plan. Dad says you’re into plants, Ms. Harper.”
    “Roz, and yes, I am.”
    “He kills them, you know,” he added as they worked their way around the room.
    “So I’ve seen.”
    “Mostly when they see him they just commit suicide and get it over with.”
    “Shut up, Josh.”

    “Just don’t want you to pull a fast one on her.” He gave his father a lightning grin. “Shelby says you live in that amazing house we passed on the way here.”
    “Yes, it’s been in my family a long time.”
    “It’s totally huge, and great looking.” He angled his head enough to send his father a quick, and not-so-private, leer. “Dad’s been spending a lot of time there.”
    “Working.” Mitch managed, through years of practice, to give his son a light elbow jab in the ribs.
    “I hope you’ll come spend some time there yourself, very soon.”
    Roz paused by the table where Jan and Quill sat talking to other friends. “Hello, everyone.” As Roz had expected, Jan stiffened, went a little pale. Deliberately,