The Red Hat Society's Queens of Woodlawn Avenue (26 page)

“With a little help from my friends.” I opened the carriage door and motioned Roz inside. “Please, I think you should be the
first couple to arrive in grand style.”

If Roz had actually had any nails in her mouth, she
definitely would have been spitting them. “If you went over budget…”

I thought of the big, fat check from Henri I’d sacrificed so I could have this moment. “It’s all taken care of. Came in under
budget, as a matter of fact.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but her portly husband climbed in the carriage beside her and said something to Greta.
She flicked the reins, and the carriage started the long drive toward the museum.

I couldn’t help beaming from ear to ear. “You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Jim said with a smile.

I beamed back. “And it was mighty tasty, too.”

T
hat evening was a night meant for walking on air, and so I did. Once I was sure that the parking attendants and Greta’s fleet
were flowing smoothly, I availed myself of a carriage and headed for the ball itself. I wanted to check in with Will and the
security guards. So far, what little paparazzi Nashville possessed had been content to snap photos of the guests being driven
off to the ball in open carriages. The only person with a camera permitted inside the ball, other than the official one, was
the society photographer from the
Tennessean.

Jim gallantly handed me into the next empty carriage and then hoisted himself in beside me. The decorations committee had
strung lights in the trees that lined the driveway, and though it wasn’t yet dark, the effect was still magical. The lights
would have been wasted on guests traveling via shuttle buses.

“Roz looked fit to be tied,” Jim said with a smile.

“The carriages are a great touch.” He reached over and slid his hand around mine, giving my fingers a squeeze. “Nice job.”

Despite my attempts to keep things with Jim on a friendly basis, his praise warmed me. “Thanks.”

We rode in silence after that. I was glad for a chance to take a few breaths and regroup. So far so good, but the night was
young, and we still had to get everyone back from the ball to the parking lot at the end of the evening. I took a few moments,
though, to enjoy the early summer breeze on my face and my ex-husband’s occasional appreciative glances at my cleavage in
the strapless Chanel gown.

The carriage let us off at the museum. As I tried to step gracefully down, my heel caught in my skirt and I pitched forward
with a small squeal.

“I’ve got you.” Jim caught me and swung me into his arms. It had been a number of years, and a number of pounds, since he’d
done that.

“I’m too heavy. Put me down.” Secretly, though, I was thrilled that he could still bear my weight.

“Light as a feather,” he said with gentlemanly savoir faire, but I had to grin at the slight signs of strain that etched his
mouth.

“You’re sweet to say so.” He lowered my feet to the ground, and before I stepped away, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank
you.”

As we stepped through the museum entrance, we were greeted by banks and banks of flowers lining the entrance hall. The theme
for the ball, “A Midsummer’s Garden,” must have been thrown together at the last minute, since
the original one had called for “An Autumnal Affair.” I assumed that Roz’s change of date for the ball had caused the decorations
committee the same nightmare it had caused me.

“This is an allergy sufferer’s nightmare,” Jim whispered under his breath, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand to smother
a giggle.

“Behave,” I swiped at his shoulder, “or I’ll never make any rank beyond transportation chair.”

“You shouldn’t have done such a good job with it,” he shot back. “They’ll make you do it again next year.”

I frowned. I hadn’t thought of that.

At the end of the hall, we found ourselves in the receiving line where Roz and her husband were greeting the guests. It was
her role as the chair to play the lady of the manor. I looked around for a way to slip by her unnoticed, but no such luck.
The line carried us up to her and the silver-haired Ben Crowley before I could manage my escape.

“Ellie!” she called, and everyone in the vicinity cocked an ear toward what was being said. “What a nice job with the transportation,
although I do think you may be here late into the night cleaning up the horse poop.” She tittered and then looked around,
expecting others to join her in her amusement. The other guests, though, looked away, uncomfortable.

Hah! Score one for me.

“And I do smell a bit like a horse,” she went on, trying to needle me into a response. “Hardly what I planned on doing while
wearing Halston.” She smoothed one hand down the skirt of her gown.

I pasted on my sweetest smile. “Well, the carriage was no problem for my Chanel.”

Roz scowled and then quickly wiped the expression off her face before anyone else could see. “Well, do enjoy yourself. I’m
sure you deserve it.”

The look on her face said that she was sure I deserved a slow, painful death, but I doubted anyone else saw it. As always,
Roz and I fought our own private war. Except that after her confession at Harris-Teeter, I wasn’t in the mood for conflict
any more. Her dislike of me was based on a delusion, and I no longer had any reason to feel guilty about Jim.

“Deserve it? She certainly does,” Jim replied. “C’mon, Ellie. I want the first dance.”

We left Roz seething in the entrance hall and made our way past all the beautifully decorated dining tables toward the dance
floor. The items for the silent auction were in a tent off to the side, and beyond the dance floor a number of people had
flowed onto the loggia that overlooked the reflecting pool. Linda, looking stunning in vintage Valentino, gave me the thumbs-up
when we passed her.

Jim led me out onto the floor just as the band struck up, “Isn’t It Romantic?” He pulled me close and off we went.

I’d forgotten how much I loved to dance with Jim. A lot of men hated to set foot on the dance floor, but not my husband. He’d
bought ballroom dance lessons for my twentieth anniversary present.

I knew I should be off checking on the security guards, but it felt too nice and far too comfortable to be floating around
the floor in his arms. He pulled me close each
time he spun us around, and when he did he would nuzzle my ear. He’d always done that, but tonight the intimate gesture brought
sharp tears to my eyes. How many wedding receptions, bar mitzvahs, and silver anniversary parties had we danced this way?

“Thank you for letting me come,” Jim murmured in my ear.

I didn’t know what to say. “You’re welcome,” didn’t sound right, because I wouldn’t have brought him if I’d had another option.
I finally settled on, “It was nice of you to escort me.” Noncommittal. Ambivalent. What I might say to an acquaintance rather
than my former life partner.

The evening continued on in just that vein, with Jim moving closer (both literally and figuratively) and me trying to strike
just the right balance between the yearnings building up in my midsection and the clamorings of common sense swamping my brain.
Whenever I felt too close to panic, I would grab Linda and retreat to the ladies’ room.

Dinner was a delicious trout almondine. During the salad course I finally managed to slip away to check with Will McFarland,
whom I had seen circling the dance floor moments before, watching me. When I caught up to him, he was behind a screen of shrubbery,
barking into a walkie-talkie.

“Everything okay?”

He jumped about a mile.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “No problem.” He paused, and his gaze slid from my face down to my
feet, lingering longer than necessary in a couple of areas. “Wow. You look amazing.”

It never hurts for a fifty-year-old woman to be paid a sincere compliment by a man half her age. ‘Thank you. How is everything
going, really?”

“Fine. A couple of people trying to crash the gate, but we got rid of them pretty quickly.”

“Crashers? Really?” I was surprised. Surely anyone with an ounce of common sense would realize that there were no anonymous
faces at an event like this. Everyone in this social circle knew who belonged and who didn’t.

“You’d be surprised.” He stood up a little taller. “Of course, we’re trained to handle that sort of thing.”

“I know. Thanks.” Suddenly, Will looked every bit as young as he was. “You’ve been a true friend.”

A shadow passed over his face. “A friend?”

I recognized the look of longing in his face. I had seen it every time I’d looked in the mirror in the months after Jim walked
out. “Yes. A friend. A very good one.”

“You know I want more.” He looked straight into my eyes. I wanted to drop my gaze, but I owed him more than that.

“I know, Will. But I’m too old for you.”

“I think that’s for me to decide.”

I wished I could still claim that righteous certainty that came with being young. “No. It isn’t. But I want you to know that
I’m flattered. Really, really flattered.”

“But not flattered enough.” There it was, the bald truth, dropped right there on the perfectly manicured lawn between us.

“Will, a relationship is about more than just attraction.

It’s about goals, experiences, timing. It’s especially about the timing.”

“And if the timing was right?” he asked, pushing.

“But it’s not, is it? And wishing that it would be won’t make it so.” I’d learned that much, at least, over the last few months.

“So there’s no hope for me?”

Well, you had to give him credit for persistence. “No, I don’t think so.”

He looked away, and I realized that he was trying to hide the play of emotion on his face. After a long moment, his head swung
back toward me. “Okay, but will you at least do me one favor?”

“Sure,” I agreed, although with some reluctance.

“Will you dance with me?”

I looked around. We were alone behind the shrubbery, but we could clearly hear the strains of the dance orchestra.

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

And that’s how I came to be dancing with a rookie police officer in the bushes at the Cannon Ball. It’s also where Jim found
me a few minutes later when he came looking for me.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

W
ho’s this?” Jim bristled like our dog, Major, used to do whenever the Orkin man showed up with his five-gallon can of insect
repellent.

“Jim, you remember Will. You met at Green Hills Grille a couple of weeks ago. Will,…” I hesitated for a moment. “My ex-husband,
Jim,” I said lamely.

They nodded at each other, and Will’s arm tightened around my waist. “Is he bothering you? I can take him in if he is.”

Take him in? “You mean as in jail?” I was well aware of the gun holster strapped to Will’s waist. The last thing I needed
was a showdown between my ex-husband and would-be lover at the Cannon Ball. If that happened, transportation would be the
least of my worries.

“Looks more like you’re the one who’s bothering her, pal,” Jim said, taking a step toward us.

I slipped out of Will’s arms and took a step back so I
could see both of them. “Gentlemen, that’s enough.” I turned to Will. “Officer McFarland, thank you for the dance. I appreciate
your help.”

Will looked mutinous. “Really. I can throw him out if he’s bothering you.”

I heaved a sigh of exasperation. “He’s not bothering me. I promise. He’s my date.”

Will’s eyes narrowed, and I thought for a moment he might take issue with my revelation. Finally, he frowned and said, “I’ll
check back with you later. Make sure he’s behaving himself.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, just to tweak Jim’s nose a little. “Thanks. That would be great.”

To my relief, Will turned and walked away around the edge of the shrubbery, leaving Jim and I standing on the empty lawn.
Jim had crossed his arms and now stood with his feet spread apart, like Connor’s football coach used to do when he was angry.

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed. “Are you nuts?”

“Pardon me. I didn’t expect to find my date in the bushes with one of Nashville’s finest.”

“We were only dancing.”

I really, really, really shouldn’t have been so thrilled by the jealousy leaking from every pore of my ex-husband’s lanky
frame, but I was only human. And I had the same amount of pride as the next woman, and Jim’s response was like a salve to
it.

“I would have been happy to go with you if you needed to talk to him.”

“Look, Jim, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. I’ve learned that much this year at least.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it just as quickly.

I stepped toward him and put my arm through his. “Let’s not spoil the evening.” I gave his arm a squeeze. “Please.”

The Jim of the last few years would have divested himself of my arm and my presence as quickly as he could. But the Jim who
was with me tonight responded in a very different manner.