“Let me properly introduce myself,” the gentleman said, stepping closer. “Garland Neal Foxworth.”

He held out his hand. I saw the stunning emerald pinkie ring.

“I don’t bite. Much,” he said when I hesitated.

“I do,” I said, and he laughed and quickly took his hand back as if he thought I literally would nibble off a finger.

“I’m sorry we are not being formally introduced, but I’m afraid I’m at a great disadvantage here,” he said, glancing around.

“And what would that be, pray tell?”

“No reason to pray. I’ll tell. I’m a stranger. I don’t know a soul except our hosts,” he added with a wink.

I looked at my mother, who was now looking disapprovingly at me. That, perhaps more than anything, encouraged me to keep talking to him.

“And where would you be from, then?”

“Just outside of Charlottesville. And you?”

“Here,” I replied in a tone that suggested it was as close to the worst place to be than anything.

He laughed. “Can I know your name?”

“Corrine,” I said. “Corrine Dixon. My father works for the bank for which Simon Wexler serves as chairman of the board.”

“Ah, yes, Harrington Dixon. I met him at the bank,” Garland said. “A very nice gentleman, and now that I see you, I can see his finer features. Your mother must be very beautiful.”

“She is, but she doesn’t care to be,” I said. The sarcasm brought more laughter.

“Mothers and daughters often compete,” Garland said. He looked at my still quite full glass of champagne and nodded at it. “Not very good?” he asked.

“What? Oh. I just arrived, Mr. Foxworth.”

“Please. Call me Garland, even when you’re vexed at me.”

“I don’t know you well enough to be vexed at you, sir, but I can see where if I did, I might be. And often,” I said, my eyes on fire.

He looked like I had just confirmed I was the goddess he had been searching for all his life. His eyes brightened, and his lips stretched into a wider smile. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t found the right woman to be my wife, or the right woman hasn’t found me.”

“Most probably,” I said, and glanced away as if I was losing interest in him, which I was certainly not.

“Can I get you something to eat?” he asked quickly. “That might guarantee my sitting with you. I live only for one thing now.”

“And that is?”

“Your getting to know me enough to be vexed at me,” he said.

I looked at my mother, anticipating her starting in my direction.

He saw my hesitation and where I was looking.

“Have to sit with your parents, do you?”

“No,” I said emphatically, so clearly that he stopped smiling and just widened his eyes. “I’m not on anyone’s leash.”