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eyes, he stood next to the sportswriter/leprechaun with his shoulders back and his head high. Maid Marian would have been thrilled to bits.

“We were a tad late, perhaps,” Tommy was saying, “but now we’re raising the roof and showing the girls a good time, aren’t we, Zack? You go dance with Carnegie, and I’ll just stop by the bar.”

“I’m really awfully busy,” I began.

“Nonsense!” he rasped. Tommy had a voice that could strip paint. “Too busy to dance with Robin Hood? Off you go, both of you.”

I liked Zack, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Sure. Just one dance.”

As I followed him out onto the dance floor, Rick ended the Motown set and changed musical gears with the Righteous Brothers, “Soul and Inspiration.” I hadn’t bargained on a slow dance, but it had been a long night, and if I couldn’t have Zorro’s arms around me, Robin’s looked like a decent substitute. For a few minutes I even relaxed and enjoyed myself. But once the song ended I’d have to go check with Donald, the other security guard, up on the observation deck, to make sure no one had gone skinny-dipping with the seals or was feeding pâté to the puffins or some damn thing. Not that my presence would prevent them, but—

“Is something wrong?” Zack blurted. I realized he was trembling a bit, and there were spots of hectic color on his cheekbones. What I’d taken for head-high confidence was just a rigid façade. Whether it was the drinks or the awkward social situation, Robin Hood was strung up as tight as piano wire.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering how the rest of the party is going.”

“Well, if you’re too busy to dance with me, I totally understand.” He sounded miffed, and very young.

“Not at all. You dance very well.”

Actually, he just danced very tall. Try as I might, slow dancing with a shorter man always made me self-conscious. Aaron had wanted us to go as Rocky and Bullwinkle tonight, for crying out loud. What was he thinking? We were clearly incompatible. Oil and water. Chalk and cheese. High fashion and low comedy. Comedy was the operative word, though. Aaron could always make me laugh. I liked that.

“Tommy was right,” said Zack, bringing me back to the moment. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

Right words, wrong guy. Still, nice words.

“Thanks, Zack. You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

In the shifting underwater light, I couldn’t quite see him blushing, but I could feel it. He began to reply, then settled for holding me a little tighter, with one large strong hand spread across the small of my back. It felt good, and when I subtly tried to put a bit of space between us, I wasn’t all that sorry when the press of bodies kept us close. I gave up, and peeked over Zack’s shoulder to check the crowd. No sign of Aaron and Corinne, but Paul and Elizabeth were there, clinging as close as they could given the bride’s bronze-and-leather breastplates. Paul’s thin, good-humored face was lit up with laughter, and Elizabeth, with his Indy fedora perched on her long black Xena wig, was smiling dreamily.

Happy clients, that was the ticket. Happy clients who would recommend me to their happy, wealthy friends. My silent partner, Eddie Breen—never silent for long—was always pushing me to advertise more, while I favored word-of-mouth among brides and their mothers.

One thought sparked another. “Zack, are you full-time with the Sentinel now or do you freelance elsewhere? My partner’s been pestering me about jazzing up our web site.”

It was like flipping a high-voltage switch.

“Sure!” Zack’s face lit up, and he seemed to forget all about my charms for the moment. “I’d do it for cheap, too. I need more stuff in my portfolio. We could start right away.”

“Whoa! Eddie and I need to brainstorm a bit first. Right now the site is just a scan of our print pamphlet—”

“Brochureware!” he groaned. “That is so lame.”

“Well, excuse me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… that’s what everybody starts with, really. But you can do, like, tons more than that. I’ll help you brainstorm. I’ll come tomorrow afternoon, OK?”

“Well, OK. Eddie’s not usually there on Sundays, but he’s wrestling with some new software, so he said he’d be in.”

“Oh. Will you be there, too?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. So tell me, what could we do that wouldn’t be lame?”

The Aquarium’s rental rules called for low-volume music in the Dome room, which made dance floor conversation possible, and Zack took

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