\u201cMeaningful conversations about what?\u201d I wondered. \u201cMy thrilling stamp collection? My weekly bridge\u2011club scandals?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can hardly contain my excitement,\u201d I said, fanning myself with my napkin like a Southern belle having the vapors.<\/p>\n
As he glided away to charm more promising prospects, I caught my reflection in that mirror again\u2014a silver\u2011haired woman in understated clothes sitting alone behind enough flowers to stock a botanical garden. Someone who looked like she probably shopped with coupons and worried about heating bills. Exactly the image I\u2019d been cultivating for two years.<\/p>\n
During the father\u2011daughter dance, I slipped away to powder my nose in the marble ladies\u2019 room. In that fancy sanctuary, I touched up my lipstick and practiced my harmless elderly\u2011widow expression in the mirror. When I returned to my floral fortress, Marcus was charming the elderly couple next to me, the Hendersons from Robert\u2019s old firm. They were eating up his attention like it was wedding cake.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Hartley,\u201d he said, catching my eye as I sat down. \u201cReally looking forward to Thursday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo am I, dear. So am I.\u201d<\/p>\n
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