“There you are!” I said, trying to be casual but fearing that my voice was betraying me.
“Hey,” said Matt, with an expression I couldn’t read. It was obvious, however, that Daphne was less than thrilled that I had found them. And boy had it taken a while. I had gone back and forth around the entire ballroom, upstairs to the painting exhibit, and had walked the long hallway with the early American folk art cases, only to discover Matt and Daphne sitting on a bench by the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the museum’s greenhouse.
I wanted to say, “What the hell were you thinking?” but instead I said, “The band is still playing. Any interest in heading downstairs?” It was important to play it cool. I didn’t want Daphne to think I cared that she had absconded with my boyfriend. But what the hell was he thinking? He would bear my wrath when we were alone.
“Sure,” said Matt.
“Let’s go downstairs,” said Daphne suddenly. “Derek Wombley—you know, the new Calvin Klein model? Well, he’s been begging me to dance with him all night.”
“Well, if Derek Wombley has been asking you to dance, we should really hurry,” said Matt in a teasing tone.
Then he linked one of his arms with me and the other with Daphne and started running down the hallway. “Matt, stop! I can’t run in these shoes!” I said, giggling.
Daphne was also running but finally yanked her arm from Matt’s. “What are you doing?” she said harshly. “I don’t want to ruin my outfit.”
“Well, excuse me, Miss Magazine Heiress,” teased Matt.
Daphne looked at me, who was laughing, and at Matt, who was waiting for her response. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to freak out or to laugh it off. She chose the latter.
“You are a madman, Matthew!” she said, straightening her dress and continuing on.
Matthew?
Matt and I followed her down the stairs, and when we returned to the ballroom, she immediately broke off from us and went in search of her male model. When she was distinctly out of earshot I turned to Matt.
“Why did you wander off with her? She’s so lame,” I said.
Matt looked at me and smiled. “Jealous?”
“No.”
“Jealous!” said Matt, pulling me in for a hug.
“You’ve heard me talk about her, you know how I think she sucks,” I said, not wanting to sound bitchy, but sounding bitchy.
“You were MIA for like an hour! What was I supposed to do?” asked Matt.
That was true. But still.
“Yeah, but why did you go upstairs?” I knew I sounded like a jealous girlfriend, but I didn’t like the whole situation.
“Kira, don’t get panicky. I wanted to get away from all these society people. They give me the heebie-jeebies. Like I said, there are a ton of my parents’ friends here. So I asked Gabe if he wanted to check out the art and he was preoccupied with his new boyfriend, but Daphne volunteered. What could I do, say, ‘No, you can’t come?’”
Yes! “I guess not,” I admitted. “Well, what did you talk about?” I asked as he grabbed my hand.
“You know, people we knew in common, boarding schools, country clubs, that sort of stuff.”
“Oh,” I said. For the first time I felt like it might be a problem that I was not from the fancy world that Matt and Daphne live in. But Matt read my mind.
“Listen, don’t let your mind go crazy. Let’s take off. I know you didn’t get any dinner, so let’s head over to Cipriani and have a late-night supper, okay?”
I smiled and nodded.
We had a great time at Cipriani. Until the bill came and Matt realized he’d forgotten his wallet and I had to pay for the dinner on the credit card my parents gave me for emergencies. I knew he would pay me back, but it was a stressful feeling, putting a two-hundred-dollar late-night snack on Dad’s AmEx. I guess the theory that rich people never carry cash is true, as Matt never had any on him.
Matt stayed over again and things got even more hot and heavy than usual. I finally had to practically put a barrier between us. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with him tonight—besides, I just wanted to wait. He seemed understanding, but slightly annoyed, and he rolled away without cuddling with me like usual. My fairytale evening had turned into a pumpkin.