Lance nodded and said, "It can be."
"I'm in sales. Top in my district, three years running."
So this is our game, Lance thought, deciding it was as good as any. After all, Lance couldn't see a basketball hoop anywhere, and the Sycamore Hills people probably wouldn't appreciate them arm wrestling near the good crystal. "Very impressive," Lance said, sliding his sarcasm directly under Jason's nose.
Jason gave an "aw, shucks" shrug of his shoulders. "Closing deals comes easier for me than most people. I visualize scoring—like in football. You play any ball, Lance?"
"No," Lance said, adjusting the napkin on his lap. "Not competitively."
"Oh, well, nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Someone's got to sit in the stands and cheer." Jason smiled. "Isn't that right, Tiny?" he asked, turning to Nina, who wore the grin of a game-show contestant who couldn't believe the parting gift was such a prize.
Is this the same woman who drove her VW on the shoulder of the road and passed a semi doing ninety? Lance wanted to ask. The look on Nina's face made him feel sick. The sight must have bothered Julia, too, because Lance felt her tense and ask, "So, Jason, how's the house hunting going?"
"Renting works fine for me," Jason said before taking a bite of the pork he'd finally accepted. "I'm keeping my options open."
"Yeah," Julia said. "I know how much you like your options."
Lance thought he could almost hear Julia thinking, But Nina is not for rent.
Next to Julia, Caroline put her fork down with a clank. "Have I told you about my new Swiffer? It's just amaz—"
"I'm not sure I really need to buy a place." Jason sliced through Caroline's words as if she didn't exist. He was holding Nina's hand, looking deeply into her eyes.
"Jason, it's a great time to buy," Julia exclaimed. "I hear Owasso is nice. Why don't you move to Owasso?"
"Has anybody seen the new Remington exhibit?" Caroline blurted. "I hear it's—"
"Owasso is completely on the other side of town!" Nina jumped in.
Caroline picked up the basket on the table and said, "Who wants bread?"
"I realize that," Julia said, glaring at her best friend. "The distance might be good. It might make it easier to move on" she finished, brandishing her fork until Lance covered her hand with his, hoping to stop her from leaning across the table and taking out one of Jason's eyes.
"Sunken treasure!" Caroline yelled, and everyone at three tables turned to her. "I saw the most interesting documentary about sunken treasure," she said, and spent the rest of the main course retelling it in detail without even pausing for breath until their plates were cleared and the emcee announced that people had just five minutes until the silent auction closed.
The crowd began to stir while dessert was being served, and Lance noticed the noise level in the room creep a little higher as the free booze started to mix with the heart medication that was, no doubt, filling two-thirds of the tuxedo pockets in the room. Nina and Caroline slipped off to feel the drapes. Jason excused himself to go call a customer. Steve was at another table, consoling a client about some loophole that Congress had just closed, leaving Lance and Julia at the table alone when the band eased seamlessly into more danceable music.
Lance looked at Julia, the gorgeous curve of her neck, the look of concern she wore for everyone she loved. He realized he had been acting for most of his adult life, but he didn't know who to be right then. Maybe it was Wally's old tuxedo, or the grandeur of Sycamore Hills, but he was having a very hard time acting like himself. He started to ask her to dance, but then drew back, suddenly unsure of his line.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a royal-blue vision floating toward their table.
"Julia, darling," Miss Georgia said, distressed. "No one's dancing. These events are marked as complete and utter failures if no one dances. Come," she said, taking Julia's arm. "You and Lance have to dance. When people see you, they'll join in."
"Oh, Evelyn, I don't really think—"
"Julia, please," Miss Georgia pleaded. "Please, do this for me."
Julia looked at Lance. "Do you want to dance?"
He rose and said, "I thought you'd never ask."
Before she could recant, he led her onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. Ob, man, he thought, she smells good. When he felt the soft skin on her back, he thought, She feels good, too. Then he stepped on her toe.
"Sorry," he muttered, but Julia just smiled.
When the band changed tempo, they found their rhythm. Lance breathed her in, stealing little glances as Julia looked into the crowd. "Julia," he whispered. He felt himself get tongue-tied. "I liked the pork."
She raised her eyebrows and said, "Good. They have great chefs here."