Mad About You

mind, little lady," boomed Ladden's Uncle Ernie as he stepped up to clap Ladden on the back.
    "Ernie—" Ladden began.
    "Be careful, though." Ernie held up a beefy finger. "Ladden here breaks hearts as often as I break wind."
    "Ernie! Do you mind?" Glaring at his uncle, Ladden jerked his head in a motion that said, "Scram," but the man was unfazed.
    "Actually, Mr. Sanderson," Jasmine said, holding back a smile, "I'm looking for a phone so I can locate my impounded car."
    "Give me your tag number and I'll make the call from the bar phone," Ladden offered.
    Jasmine smiled her thanks and rummaged in her purse for something to write on.
    "Here," Ladden said, extending the scrap of paper in his hand. "You can write on the back."
    "Another love note from one of the waitresses?" Ernie asked, peering over his shoulder.
    Ladden frowned. "Ernie, why don't you—"
    "Take Jasmine with me to watch Maddie open her presents?" Ernie cut in smoothly, then gently clasped her elbow and flashed a grin. "I'd love to. How about it, little lady?"
    Jasmine shrugged awkwardly. "Well—"
    "My Silvie makes the best punch you ever tasted," Ernie cajoled. "Her secret ingredient is cranberry ginger ale."
    Ladden exhaled noisily. His face grew redder by the second. She wanted to rescue him.
    "Ernie, I don't think Jasmine—"
    "It sounds fun," she said quickly. "I haven't had good punch in a long time."
    Ernie smiled smugly at his nephew. "We'll be in the back when you're finished."
    Jasmine allowed herself to be led away with a backward glance at an apologetic Ladden. She and Ernie threaded their way toward the far corner of the dining room where about twenty people were gathered around a beaming young girl with long, honey-colored hair. Ernie waved his hands and the group quieted, studying her with curious eyes.
    "Everyone," he said proudly, "this is Jasmine, Ladden's friend ."
    The inflection in his voice, coupled with his wagging eyebrows garnered a collective, singsongy "Ah" from the group that brought warmth to her cheeks. A plump, middle-aged woman stepped forward and kissed Jasmine on both cheeks. "Welcome, my dear. I'm Silvie, Ladden's aunt. My daughter Maddie was just getting ready to open her birthday gifts."
    "I don't want to intrude," Jasmine said, feeling uncomfortable. They obviously thought she was Ladden's girlfriend.
    "Nonsense," Silvie said, leading her to a chair. "You look familiar to me—are you a model or something?"
    Jasmine laughed. "No, I'm an interior designer. I've been shopping at Ladden's Castle for years."
    Silvie squinted. "Maybe I've seen your picture somewhere."
    Her picture had appeared regularly in the lifestyle section of the newspaper since she had begun dating the governor, but she didn't want to bring it up. "I suppose I just have one of those faces."
    The woman dismissed the subject with a wave. "Let me get you a nice cup of punch."
    Jasmine settled between Ruby, Silvie's niece, and Joey, Ladden's cousin who, she discovered in a few minutes, owned a third of the tavern. Joey, a short, dark-haired fellow who looked to be a few years older than Ladden, seemed to be keenly interested in her legs. Ladden wasn't in her direct line of vision, and she resisted the urge to crane her neck lest she incite the group. She sipped her punch and watched in silence as Maddie opened a stack of presents, exclaiming with glee over in-line skates from her parents, a jewelry box from an aunt, and a charm bracelet from her Uncle Ladden.
    "Oh, it's beautiful," the little girl gasped, holding out the bracelet for everyone to see. She looked around the tavern. "Where is Uncle Ladden?"
    "He's making some phone calls for me," Jasmine said, touched that he'd bought such a lovely gift for his niece and feeling worse and worse for making him miss the festivities. She slipped an embellished sterling silver comb from her braided hair. "I didn't know to bring a gift, Maddie, but I'd like you to have this."
    "Wow," Maddie breathed, stroking the comb. "Will you show me how to fix my hair like yours sometime?"
    After a slight hesitation, she responded, "Of course—the next time I see you." She felt so out of place.
    "Are you going to marry Uncle Ladden?" the girl asked, eliciting laughter from the adults.
    Ladden approached the table, and from the look on his face Jasmine was sure he had heard his niece's question. "Jasmine and I are just friends, Maddie." He threw the adults a warning look.
    "Thanks for the bracelet, Uncle Ladden."
    "You're