Eve and Audrey shook their heads no. Audrey watched them go, then chided herself. She was here to enjoy a night out, not find a boyfriend, not if she wanted to make partner. A candle flared, punctuating the dusk, and the smell of citronella wafted over.

“I’m so glad we came,” Audrey said to Eve. “I haven’t been to a party in so long.” The party conversations murmured and swelled as if keeping time to the music.

They dropped into two folding chairs placed in the corner at a good vantage point to check out the party. “Let me know if you see anyone of interest. Happy to play wing woman. I like Rafael.”

“Yes, he seems really sweet.”

“Sweet. That’s the kiss of death for dating. He’s tall and definitely handsome. And fit. And he cooks.” Eve gave her that look that said “your list is not so impossible after all.”

“I wasn’t meaning sweet as the kiss of death.”

Eve raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I didn’t feel that electricity. But it could be there … just grounded temporarily.” Her chair was rocking. She shifted it to more even ground.

“Make the most of it, this is happening. You don’t get out that often anymore.”

Suddenly, a woman in high heels in front of Audrey lost her footing on the brick path and fell back, spilling her white wine on Audrey’s black dress. The cold liquid hit her skin and she cried out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The woman pushed her wispy blond hair out of her eyes. “I’m really sorry, your dress is so wet.”

“No worries. It will come out, I’m sure.” Audrey looked across the backyard to where Jake was talking to someone, his back to her. “Can you do me a favor and ask the host where his bathroom is? I’ll try to fix it there.”

“It’s the least I can do.” The woman made a beeline for Jake. Smiling wickedly, Audrey hurried to the bathroom, which was in the same location as in her apartment.

She left the bathroom, and at the door to the garden, she ran into Jake. He put his arm around her. The warmth of the physical contact surprised her. He smelled like fresh cotton laundry with a slight whiff of beer. He leaned in, one hand on the door next to her, her back against the sliding glass door. She held his gaze, her body buzzing. Enveloped in their own little bubble, the party noise receded into the background. It was just him and her.

“So, surprise, surprise, a woman actually asked me where the bathroom was,” he said in a low voice.

“And you wanted to share that with me?”

“I thought you might have had something to do with that.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “You totally did. You’re so not good at keeping secrets.”

She laughed. “Maybe. I might’ve.”