Carol’s visit put the kibosh on my diamond hunt. Wasn’t in the mood anymore. I spent the next few hours putzing around the house, telling myself I was doing necessary chores, but mostly just wasting time, procrastinating until it was time to get ready for my date with Rachel. She’d called, running late, and asked if I could pick her up at the Hebrew Home where she was visiting her grandmother.

I put on the only suit I’d brought with me. I’d had it cleaned, of course, but I wasn’t sure that was enough to prevent me from thinking about the last time I’d worn it. My father’s funeral. Hopefully, Rachel would take my mind off all the unsettling things I’d been learning about my father’s life.

When I got to the Hebrew Home, I found the parking lot much more crowded than it had been for the dedication. Maybe they were having a big New Year’s shindig for the residents. A stab of guilt struck me—I should have asked Kassian if he needed a ride before I left. I opened my phone and started to call home, but I knew Kassian wouldn’t answer, even if he were there. Instead, I called Rachel. She answered on the second ring and told me to come up to room 438. I showed my ID and glanced around the lobby to make sure Carol wasn’t lurking about. No need to reprise this afternoon’s awkward encounter in a public place.

Following the signs, I located room 438 and knocked on the doorjamb, even though the door was wide open. “Come on in,” Rachel said, and I obeyed, entering the small room. Rachel leaned against the wall next to a large blue vinyl chair that practically swallowed her elfin grandmother. Rachel pushed herself off the wall and came over to kiss me on the cheek. Then she introduced me. “Nana, this is Josh Handleman. Josh, this is my nana.”

Alert eyes tracked me as I walked over to shake her hand. She was smaller than tiny, and sitting in that large chair with a blanket covering her knees made her seem almost microscopic. If she were a tad bigger, she could have fallen off the same cake as Kassian. A thin layer of gray-white hair covered her light-bulb shaped head. Her papery skin felt cool, but her bony grip was stronger than I’d imagined. Not strong, exactly, but I could detect life. “Pleased to meet you.”

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak. I leaned down so I could hear her better. “Happy New Year,” she bellowed, and I jumped back.

Rachel laughed. “She may be ninety-six years old, but she’s still got her voice.” Rachel wore a gray and black low-cut short dress, with an ornate necklace dipping into her cleavage. Spiky high heels with lethally pointed toes completed her outfit. Dressed to party. I’m not sure it went with my funeral suit, but I certainly wasn’t complaining. Besides, nobody would be looking at me.

A shrill whistle emanated from her grandmother. Nana fiddled with her hearing aid and the noise subsided. “Are you Rachel’s boyfriend?” she said, voice loud enough to be heard down the hall.

Rachel intervened. “Nana, I only met Josh yesterday. I’m not sure whether I’m going to keep him or throw him back into the pond.” She grinned, and her crooked smile hinted she was going to enjoy finding out.

“Well, give it your best shot, sweetie. I don’t want two lesbian granddaughters. Great grandchildren would be nice.” She pointed one of her bird claws in my direction. “I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

I gave her a half-shrug, half-nod, and caught Rachel’s eyes. Save me.

Rachel said, “Okay, Nana. I’ll work on it. But leave Josh alone.” In a stage whisper almost as loud as her grandmother’s voice she added, “He’s very sensitive. You have to be extremely gentle with him. Like a frightened kitten.”

Nana nodded solemnly as she glanced at me. It wasn’t often I got pity from a ninety-six-year-old.

“Okay, Nana. Happy New Year. Josh and I need to get going. I’ll see you next Sunday.” Rachel bent over and kissed her grandmother goodbye.

“Bye, sweetie,” Nana said to Rachel. Then she swiveled her head to me. “Bye, John. Nice meeting you.” The skeletal finger reappeared from under the blanket and wagged at me. “Be good to my Rachel.”

Rachel didn’t say a word, but her eyes danced with laughter.

___

We left Rachel’s car at the Hebrew Home and I drove to the Ritz-Carlton in Tysons Corner, where we were meeting Erik and Katy for the three D’s: drinks, dinner, and dancing. I left the keys with the valet and tried to ignore his look of disdain as he got behind the wheel. To her credit, Rachel hadn’t said anything about the Taurus, but I think I agreed with the valet. The car screamed “geezer.”

The party was some kind of pseudo work-related thing of Erik’s and when he’d invited me, he said it would be more drinking and partying than business. At the time, I’d just been happy that I wouldn’t have to spend New Year’s Eve alone wallowing in self-pity. Now, I had a chance to show off Rachel, which was more than enough to boost anyone’s spirits.

At the door, I gave my name to an underfed guy in an extra-large tux gripping a clipboard with white knuckles. He checked his list, and finding what he was looking for, waved us in with a look of great relief, past a huge red banner that read, “Welcome Elite.” Leave it to Erik to get me—and a date—into an exclusive bash.

Hundreds of people milled about the large ballroom, all with drinks of various sizes and colors in their hands. The guys wore tuxes or suits and the women were dolled up to the max, but Rachel managed to outshine them all. “There they are,” I said, as I scanned the crowd. Erik and Katy were off to my right, talking with another couple. I grabbed Rachel’s hand and we weaved through the crowd in their direction, ducking and dodging the other partygoers, careful not to bump anyone’s drink hands.

Erik must have seen us coming, because he was saying goodbye as we got there. “Hey buddy. You found us,” he said, giving me a quick guy-hug. I kissed Katy hello, then introduced Rachel.

“I’m so glad to meet you. Josh has told me all about you,” Rachel said. “Some of it was good, too.” She kept a straight face for a second, then smiled.

Erik pointed at Rachel, but spoke to me. “Hey, I like her. She’s got some spunk.”

Katy and Rachel complimented each other’s outfits, while Erik whispered in my ear. “That’s Tammy’s little sister? Wow.” He glanced around, and still in a whisper said, “Listen, I should give you a heads—”

“Hey there,” Brandon Flannery said, stepping out of the crowd, buxom blonde draped on one arm like a sommelier’s napkin. “Nice to see you again.” He sported a broad, shit-eating grin.

So much for a pleasant evening. “You too,” I lied. “This is Rachel Rosen.”

Rachel shook his hand, and Brandon held on way too long. Then he let go abruptly, remembering his date. “This is Layla. Layla Richards.”

Layla growled a low-pitched hello—a two-packs-a-day growl—followed by a sip from her martini glass. Properly introduced, our little gang commandeered one of the dining tables in the back, close to the buffet lines. The cocktail reception was winding down, and the clanging of the large chrome chafing dishes as the chefs prepared the food stations punctuated the sounds of conversation around us.

“So what party is this?” I asked Erik.

“It’s put on by a group called the Northern Virginia Business Elite. Lawyers, real estate types, bankers, venture capitalists, lobbyists—they’re the ones with the oily hair. Those kinds of people. But I told you, tonight is more party than business. You could try to network, but it’ll be pretty hard as the night wears on.”

“All these people are ‘business elite’?”

“Self-anointed.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry, you won’t get busted. I know one of the organizers. Told him you were Abe Handleman’s son. You got a gold pass.” Erik lifted his wineglass and took a sip as he checked out the crowd.

Next to me, Rachel smiled and patted my arm. Moved in close. “I’ll give you a gold pass and two gold stars. With a cherry on top,” she said, quietly, so only I could hear. People were starting to get into line at the buffet tables. “Why don’t we get some food?”

Our little group got in line, and ten minutes later we were back at the table with our meals. Rachel and I chowed down on a variety of delicacies, both of us steering clear of the Brussels sprouts and hollandaise sauce. Something else we had in common. Erik and Katy ate mostly in silence, and across the table, Brandon and Layla spent more time pawing each other than eating. Every few seconds, I noticed, Brandon’s eyes wandered down to examine Layla’s prodigious chest. The way she kept working it, she didn’t seem to mind in the least.

In my ear, Rachel whispered, “Layla doesn’t seem like she’s one of Northern Virginia’s elite businessfolk.”

“Maybe Brandon is.” I had no idea what he did. When we’d played poker, the topic never came up. Or if it had, I’d been too steamed to notice.

The next time I saw Brandon checking out Layla’s top shelf, I called out, making sure my voice was heard above the loud background chatter. “Hey, Brandon. I never caught what you do for a living.”

He hit me with the insincere smile again. “I’m an entrepreneur. A little of this, a little of that. I even worked with your father on a couple of development things. Nice guy.” He turned to Rachel. “And what do you do? Fashion model?” His smile broadened, slipping slightly when Layla landed an elbow in his ribs.

To my surprise, Rachel didn’t unleash her sarcasm howitzer. “Schoolteacher. Third grade.”

“I bet your students have a crush on their teacher, all right. I know I did.” While he spoke, Layla tugged on his arm. She whispered in his ear. “Listen, my girl here wants to ditch this place. We got a room upstairs.” He paused and undressed Rachel with his beady eyes while he addressed me. “Would you and your date care to join us?” All that was missing was the exaggerated wink. I wondered if Erik and Katy felt left out of the fun.

“No. But thanks for the offer.” Maybe in an alternate universe. I glanced at Rachel. She hadn’t verbally responded to Brandon’s “offer,” but I could guess what was running through her mind. And it probably had something to do with the creative use of steak knives.

Brandon and Layla said their goodbyes, and Rachel and Katy excused themselves to go to the ladies’ room, giggling. I moved over a chair so Erik could hear me better. “You think Layla charges by the hour?” I asked.

Erik grinned. “He’s been dating Lay-ya for a couple of months. Don’t like her much, but she does have her good points, I suppose.” He glanced around the room. “Like the party?”

“Sure. Fancy. How much do I owe you for the tickets?”

“My treat. Told you, I know a guy. Besides, they’re a business expense. It’ll come right out of the Hebrew Home’s pocket.” When I didn’t fall for the bait, he smiled awkwardly. “Hey, just kidding.” He turned serious. “Did you find your father’s diamonds?”

“Nope. And I’ve searched damn near everywhere. Maybe he sold them.”

Erik shook his head. “I don’t think so. I would have known. If they were worth anything, that is. I suppose it wouldn’t have hit my radar screen if they were only worth a few thousand.” He shrugged. “Of course, if you knew they weren’t worth much, you could stop searching. Not worth the aggravation you’re putting yourself through.”

“True. But I haven’t found any receipts or paperwork or anything. I got nothing else to do with my time, so I guess I’ll keep looking.” Sad, but true. And—more to the point—if I kept focused on this task, I wouldn’t have to worry about the larger picture yet. Where to live, what to do. Who to spend time with. My life, the mess.

Erik gripped my shoulder. “Hey, I really like Rachel. You two seem good together.”

“Thanks. Yeah, she’s … she’s a lot different than Dani, that’s for sure.” Dani was critical and liked things her way, or no way. Rachel was more of a go-with-the-flow girl.

“Just take it slow, my friend. If it’s meant to be, then it will be.”

“Thanks for the Zen,” I said. At the other end of the ballroom, a band started to warm up. I leaned closer to Erik. “What do you know about Brandon’s dealings with my father?”

Erik sighed. “Look. I know you and Brandon didn’t hit it off. But he’s not such a bad guy. Really.” He held my eyes for a moment. “I hooked them up a couple of years ago. Brandon was looking for some property to develop, and I knew your father was a player. They got a few things going since then. Nothing earth-shaking. Why?”

“Just curious. You know much about my father’s other ‘deals’?”

Erik swirled the drink in his glass while he thought. “Why?”

“Just curious. I’m trying to learn as much as I can about his business. Ironic, isn’t it? When he was alive, I never cared that much.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not as big a jerk as you think you are.” Erik squeezed my upper arm.

I nodded, not sure if I’d agree with Erik’s characterization. “Who handled his real estate stuff?”

“Guy named Teresywzki. Terry ‘Terrible’ Teresywzki. Why?”

“Thought I might want to talk to him.”

Erik shook his head. “Your choice, but wear a hard hat. He doesn’t take any prisoners. I’m working with him on your father’s estate. If you’re real nice to me, I’ll get you in to see him. He’s a tough ticket.” Erik cocked his head to one side. “Come to think of it, I hooked them up, too. What would Honest Abe have done without me?”

Rachel and Katy returned just as the band started playing in earnest. Rachel pulled me out of my chair by my hand. “Care to dance, sailor?”

I got up but didn’t move toward the dance floor. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“So? Neither am I. Come on.” She dragged me out to one corner of the large wood parquet square that had been laid over the ballroom carpet in front of the band. They were playing a slow song, so I gently took her hand and drew her close. Swayed to the music as best I could. She swayed back and put her head against mine and I could feel the heat from her skin on my cheek and her warm breath tickled my ear. I held her swaying firm body against mine and inhaled her heady perfume. My pulse quickened and things began to rev up within me.

“I think you’re a good dancer,” she said, above the music. She pressed her pelvis against mine. “And I see you’re very enthusiastic. Which is nice.”

I responded by hugging her tighter.

“Let’s go,” she said.

And we did.