I freeze behind a pillar, trying to pretend I’m not eavesdropping.
“No. Does anybody?”
“Where do they live?”
“The West Village somewhere. But apparently they’re moving to this building.”
I stare at the pillar in bemusement. What’s that?
“Oh really? I thought it was impossible to get in here.”
“Not if you’re related to Elinor Sherman!” The women laugh gaily and move off into the melee, and I stare blankly at a molded curlicue.
They must have got that wrong. There’s no way we’re moving here. No way.
I wander aimlessly around for another few minutes, find myself a glass of champagne, and try to keep a cheerful smile on my face. But try as I might, it keeps slipping. This isn’t exactly how I pictured my engagement party would be. First of all the doorpeople try to stop me going in. Then I don’t know anybody. Then the only things to eat are low-fat, high-protein cubes of fish — and even then, the wait staff look taken aback when you actually eat them.
I can’t help thinking back slightly wistfully to Tom and Lucy’s engagement party. It wasn’t nearly as grand as this, of course. Janice made a big bowl of punch and there was a barbecue, and Martin sang “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” on the karaoke machine. But still. At least it was fun. At last I knew people. I knew more people at that party than I do at this one—
“Becky! Why are you hiding?” I look up and feel a swoosh of relief. There’s Luke.
“Luke! At last!” I say, moving forward — then gasp in joy as I see a familiar, balding, middle-aged man standing beside him, grinning cheerfully at me. “Michael!” I throw my arms around him and give him a big hug.
Michael Ellis has to be one of my favorite people in the world. He’s based in Washington, where he heads up an incredibly successful advertising agency. He’s also Luke’s partner in the American arm of Brandon Communications, and has been like a mentor figure to him. And to me, for that matter. If it weren’t for some advice Michael gave me a while ago, I’d never have moved to New York in the first place.
“Luke said you might be coming!” I say, beaming at him.
“You think I’d miss this?” Michael twinkles at me. “Congratulations!” He raises his glass toward me. “You know, Becky, I’ll bet you’re regretting not taking up my offer of a job now. You could have had real prospects in Washington. Whereas instead…” He shakes his head. “Look at the way things have turned out for you. Great job, got your man, a wedding at the Plaza…”
“Who told you about the Plaza?” I say in surprise.
“Oh, just about everybody I’ve spoken to. Sounds like it’s going to be some event.”
“Well…” I give a bashful shrug.
“Is your mom excited about it?”
“I… er… well…” I take a sip of champagne to avoid having to answer.
“She’s not here tonight, I take it?”
“No. Well, it is quite a long way!” My laugh is a little shrill, and I take another sip, draining my glass.
“Let me get you another,” says Luke, taking my glass. “And I’ll find my mother. She was asking where you were… I’ve just asked Michael to be best man,” he adds as he walks off. “Luckily he said yes.”
“Really?” I say, and beam at Michael in delight. “Fantastic! I can’t think of a better choice.”
“I’m very honored to be asked,” says Michael. “Unless you want me to marry you, of course. I’m a bit rusty, but I could probably remember the words…”
“Really?” I say in surprise. “Are you secretly a minister, as well as everything else?”
“No.” He throws back his head and laughs. “But a few years back, some friends wanted me to marry them. I pulled some strings and got registered as an officiant.”
“Well, I think you’d make a great minister! Father Michael. People would flock to your church.”
“An atheist minister.” Michael raises his eyebrows. “I guess I wouldn’t be the first.” He takes a sip of champagne. “So how’s the shopping business?”
“It’s great, thanks.” I beam at him.
“You know, I recommend you to everyone I meet. ‘You need clothes, go to Becky Bloomwood at Barneys.’ I tell busboys, businessmen, random people I meet on the street…”
“I wondered why I kept getting all these strange people through.” I smile at him.
“Seriously, I wanted to ask a small favor.” Michael lowers his voice slightly. “I’d be grateful if you could help out my daughter, Lucy. She just broke up with a guy and I think she’s going through a patch of lacking self-confidence. I told her I knew who could fix her up.”
“Absolutely,” I say, feeling touched. “I’d be glad to help.”
“You won’t bankrupt her, though. Because she’s only on a lawyer’s salary.”
“I’ll try not to,” I say, laughing. “How about you?”
“You think I need help?”
“To be honest, you look pretty good already.” I gesture to his immaculate dark gray suit, which I’m certain didn’t give him much change out of $3,000.
“I always dress up when I know I’m going to be seeing the beautiful people,” says Michael. He looks around the party with an amused expression, and I follow his gaze. A nearby group of six middle-aged women are talking at each other animatedly, seemingly without taking breath. “Are these your friends?”