Remy tied his black tie and took a deep breath. It had been an interesting afternoon. They’d driven back to the hotel and Tara followed him to his room. They turned on the TV and snuggled up on the couch like they’d been dating for months when in reality they hadn’t even talked about what this relationship was or if it was going anywhere.

Of course, sitting on the couch with Tara leaning into him, he hadn’t thought about that at all. All he thought about was how good it felt to have his arm wrapped around her as the heat of her body chased away the chill of a Montana April.

He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair.

“Are you paying any attention to the TV?” she asked.

“No, you can change the channel if you want.”

Instead she’d looked up and kissed him. One kiss led to more kisses until they were making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, complete with his hand up her shirt. He wasn’t sure how far it would have gone. They’d known each other a few days but he had little self-control around her, especially when she instigated something like that, and he wanted as much as she’d give him. But her cellphone had gone off and she’d pulled away, blushing. She slid from the couch and grabbed her purse. “Shit. I didn’t realize the time. My dad’s looking for me.” She smiled at him. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Of course.”

She’d blown him a kiss and breezed out of the room.

He grabbed his jacket from the closet and shrugged it on. He grabbed his wallet, key card, and black shoes. He looked around the hotel room and sighed. After Tara left, he’d showered and shaved and now he was completely ready for the formal dinner.

There was nothing to wait for so he headed for the elevator. Marnie got on a floor down and looked him over. “You clean up well.”

“Thank you. You look lovely, too.”

“Luc had to twist my arm to pack this damn dress. I hate dresses.”

“You and Jane both. She wore pants to Brock’s wedding.”

“And did anyone say anything about it?”

“Not in my hearing. And she didn’t punch anyone so they didn’t say anything in her hearing either.”

She fussed with her skirt. “I wore a dress every Sunday for most of my childhood. I could do with wearing pants tonight.”

“You look wonderful. It’s one evening.”

She glared at him but stopped complaining.

The volunteer at the dining hall door, who was not Tara to Remy’s disappointment, directed them to a table near the back wall, furthest away from the stage and the Council’s table.

“I’m not surprised,” Marnie said as she sat. “I get the feeling the Council doesn’t approve of female Chiefs, whatever their official stance on the matter is. Remy?”

“Hmm?”

“Who are you looking for?”

“My friend.”

“Ah yes, your mysterious friend. You’ll have to point her out to me.”

“I never mentioned it was a girl,” he protested.

“You don’t have to, I can tell. Unless I’m reading you wrong and you went on a date with a nice young man.”

“Not my thing, no.”

“Because it wouldn’t bother me. I may be nearing fifty, but ...”

“Marnie, I’m sure you’re very progressive. Yes, my friend is a young woman.”

The room continued to fill with Chiefs, a few of them with their wives, but overwhelming the room was filled with middle-aged and older men.

Daniel, two other female chiefs, and an older man named Vincent whom Daniel seemed to know gradually joined them at their table.

“Outcasts and misfits,” Marnie muttered.

Suddenly Remy said, “There. She’s just come in.”

Tara was standing just inside the door, glancing around the nearly full room. She was wearing an icy blue cocktail dress and a silver shrug. She held tight to the small silver bag in her hands. Remy’s heart was pounding just looking at her, at the way the silky fabric clung to her body and the way her dark hair framed her face. She finally looked his way and smiled, offering him the slightest of waves.

“That’s your friend?” Daniel asked.

Remy nodded. “In the blue dress.”

“She’s hard to miss.”

Remy nodded again.

“Are you going to invite her over and introduce her?” Marnie asked.

“Our table is full.”

“So she won’t be sitting with us. At least bring her over to say hi before the dinner starts.”

“Maybe wait on that,” Daniel said even as Remy was pushing his chair back.

“Why?” But he didn’t need an answer. The next person to walk in was Charles and he put a hand on Tara’s elbow, escorting her to a table directly in front of the Council’s table.

“That’s not his wife, is it?” Marnie asked.

“No,” Vincent said. “That’s Charles Brown and his daughter, Tara, of Boston.”

---

Tara stood awkwardly in the doorway. She knew roughly where she and Charles were sitting but he’d asked her to wait for him, so she waited. She was looking for Remy, her gaze sweeping along the room, table by table. Finally she spotted him near the back of the room at the table of female Chiefs. He was staring at her.

She waved, really no more than a wiggle of her fingers, and smiled. He waved back. Then Charles came in. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He led her by the elbow to a table at the front of the room and she sat so she could easily face the stage and still glance back at Remy.

They were between speeches when Charles said, “You seem distracted?”

“Hmm? Oh, just trying to get a friend’s attention.”

“Friend?”

“Yes, didn’t I mention?”

“No, I thought you were busy with the volunteers.”

“I was, but not the entire time. We met down at the pool. He’s very nice.”

“He?”

“Yes, you’re not going to get all protective, are you Dad?”

“I can’t help it. You’ll always be my little girl.”

“You aren’t this protective of Sophia,” she muttered.

“This is not the place for this conversation,” he whispered. Then he smiled and said, “So, point him out to me.”

“There, right near the back of the room.”

“Of course. I’m not sure which …”

“The dark hair. He’s seated with all the female Chiefs, it seems.”

“Is he now? Does he have a name?”

“His name is Remy.”

Charles leaned in close to his daughter so he could speak softly and hopefully not be heard by the others seated at the table with them. “Tara, this is most unfortunate.”

“I knew you were going to be all over-protective.”

“It’s not that, Tara. Remy’s father and I have had some serious disagreements in the past. I’m afraid Remy may have been sent here to get information on me, and he wouldn’t think twice about using you to get it from me.”

“What kind of information?”

“Business secrets, I should suspect. His second, Brock Tandell, is a serious business rival of mine.”

“You mean the son of Trevor Tandell, your old business partner? Dad, what’s really going on here?”

“It’s exactly as I’m telling you, Tara. Remy’s father didn’t have money of his own so after Trevor Tandell died he started meddling in young Brock’s business affairs, exerting his influence as Chief, and it’s because of him that our successful partnership was ended. And now Remy continues to meddle in the Tandell’s economic affairs out of jealousy. He’s a corporate spy and you’re about to become his pawn.”

---

Remy was having a hard time paying attention to any of the formal speeches or ‘thank you’s going on at the front of the room. His eyes were glued to Tara. He’d barely eaten.

At one point he thought he was both Tara and Charles glance his way and his heart sank. If she’s pointed me out to her father, she’s about to find out just how unfit I am for a Brown of the Boston Browns. He saw Tara and Charles lean in towards each other, could see their conversation was getting intense. And there it is. She’ll be looking down her nose at me just like her father does now.