I’d better do some good mixing tonight, Gavin thought anxiously. If I don’t get that bracelet soon, I’ll need a lot of spare time to spend only with Veronica. The apprehension sent a wave of anxiety sweeping through his body. He forced a smile and walked over to say hello to the Captain. Gavin reached out his hand. “Good evening, sir.”

Thanks to the fact that Veronica was so anxious to get to the party, she and Regan were one of the first people on line to meet the Captain. Within a few minutes of their arrival, the line snaked out the door and past the Lancelot Bar. Dutifully the Captain put his arms around both of them as Veronica twittered “cheese.” Though the Captain did his best to be charming, Regan was relieved after the usual pleasantries were exchanged. As Veronica attempted to linger with him, Regan accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and looked around. The early birds had already staked out seats on the couches and chairs that formed a horseshoe around the dance floor.

“Oh, Regan, over here!” Regan turned to her left and saw Sylvie waving to them. She was seated on one of the couches next to an older woman.

“Veronica, let’s go over and say hello to Sylvie.”

“Lovely, dear. Carry on.”

As they made their way over, the band started to play a version of “Chattanooga Choo-Choo” complete with swishy sounds made by the drummer’s instrument that looked like a miniature broom. Even though most people her age hated this kind of music usually played at weddings, Regan did get a kick out of it. She noticed one couple out on the dance floor as they started their own little two-step, joining hands and twirling, knowing each other’s moves without even looking, gracefully dancing together as they probably had been doing for the past forty years. By the time I celebrate my fortieth anniversary with someone, Regan thought, the only way we’d be able to move around the dance floor together would be if someone wheeled us back and forth out there. A dancer and a waiter both tripped on Veronica’s hoop before they reached Sylvie.

“Lady Exner.” The woman seated next to Sylvie looked up worshipfully.

“Yes, Sir Gilbert Exner’s widow.” Veronica seemed delighted that someone finally recognized her status before she had to inform them.

Introductions were made and Veronica sat down on the chair nearest Violet. Sylvie is glowing, Regan thought as she sat down in the chair opposite Veronica and next to Milton.

As the room filled, white-gloved waiters passed champagne, the band played on, and the noise level increased to that of a full-blown cocktail party. Chatter and laughter filled the air as people appraised each other’s outfits and finally got the chance, in the convivial atmosphere, to say hello to fellow passengers they had not yet met.