legs, unlike the rows of fixed seating. They were also in full view of most of the patrons, several of whom were openly staring at her, craning their necks to see who Eric Oswell's latest conquest was. It made Emmy grind her teeth in annoyance.
"I thought the circus was supposed to be outside," she said to Eric, in as light a tone as she could muster, and he pulled a face. He wasn't as impervious to this as she'd thought.
"Yes, well, I didn't quite expect this," he said with a sigh, running one hand through his hair. He was looking slightly guilty, as if he ought to have predicted it. "I don't always, uh, have an escort at these functions..."
"Maybe you should do it more often," Emmy suggested with a tight smile. "Make it less of an event. People will get used to it."
"There aren't that many women I want to take to the opera," he said, deadpan. "And I've tried the casual acquaintance route — it's not a success."
Emmy wasn't sure what to make of his sideways appreciation of her company — apparently she was a rare find. She settled for a gracious nod, and decided to ignore the eyes on her, something that became infinitely easier as the first discordant notes of the musicians fine-tuning their instruments triggered a dimming of the lights.
The music, as ever, took her away from the here and now and swept her off to dusty, sun-baked Seville, where dashing young officers flirted with the gypsy girls from the cigar factory, bullfighters were the equivalent of rockstars, and spurned lovers resorted to murder. Bizet's passionate score was one of her favorites, and the interpretation was excellent — Carmen's performance especially, and her chemistry with Don Jose made their tragic love affair all the more believable.
By the end, Emmy was on her feet, clapping furiously as the cast took bow after bow to a standing ovation. It was a success, to put it mildly, and even Eric — whom she suspected was economical with his praise — joined in the general acclaim.
"I was expecting a good show, but this is really a triumph," he said, turning to her, his face aglow with excitement. "I'm delighted to have been able to share this with you tonight!"
"Three for three, so far," she said, and he beamed at her in return. He was looking happier — and younger, the lines in his face more relaxed — than at any moment since they'd met, as if the music had helped lift the cloud of tension that seemed to hover above him.
"Does that mean I might get a further chance?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in query.
"You'll just have to try your luck," she shot back, but the grin on her face was unambiguous.
They made their way to the post-performance dinner on the Grand Tier, with Emmy making a quick detour to the restrooms to refresh her lipstick and check her face. She was in a stall when she heard Eric's name, and hoped against hope that she wasn't about to be discussed by what sounded like a couple of ditzy prom queens.
"So," said girl number one, whose voice was irritatingly nasal, "did you see Oswell? He's looking pretty fine."
"Sure is — but what did you think of the bitch he was with? I mean, who is she? Do we even know her?" came the high-pitched reply.
"No clue. Maybe she's a paid escort," said nasal girl. "You know he doesn't do girlfriends. Remember Patty? That was a disaster."
"Patty was ages ago! Last couple of times I saw Eric with anyone it was with Marcie Van Buren and I'm sure there's nothing going on there — they're related. I tell you, either he's gay or he's really playing hard to get."
"Oh, he's not gay — a cousin of mine used to summer with him in Nantucket and he was on the edge of the social scene there, but he had lots of girlfriends."
"Come on, Courtney, we all know gay guys who had lots of girlfriends, I mean, look at Bruce!" the high-pitched girl exclaimed, and Emmy had to agree. She'd known a few Bruces in her time.
"Honey, Eric is definitely not a Bruce. But I really want to know who that girl is. She's not a model — she's too short, and I am positive I haven't seen her around."
"Maybe she's a business associate?"
"Maybe," conceded Courtney. "Or she's some tramp who's after him for his money."
"I had no idea you had