"This is ridiculous." Jazz said to Derek as he straightened his collar. "I feel like a fucking penguin."
Derek chuckled. "I guess it doesn't help if I tell you that you look like a fucking penguin does it?" He picked up the can of beer from the coffee table. "What time are we due at my apartment to pick up the girls, Pingu?"
Jazz grinned at him. "Pingu? How old are you?"
His friend shrugged. "I have young siblings. My brother is three."
"I thought Edwin was nearer your age."
"My other brother, Robbie. Ed is sixteen."
"My god! How many of you are there?"
Derek laughed. "In our house, eight of us. Three boys, three girls and two parents."
"Wow! How come?" Jazz thought it was strange they had never discussed this before, but Derek had always been cagey about his family.
"My dad remarried. I have a brother and sister, and then my step-mom had two girls. She and my dad had a boy three years ago."
"How does Casey get on with them?"
Derek was quiet for a moment. He sipped his beer.
"Derek?" Jazz prompted.
"Casey is my step-sister."
Jazz stared at him. "Oh."
"Our parents aren't exactly thrilled we got married." Derek shook himself and stood up. "Are you ready yet?"
"Yeah. Let's get going. Can't keep the women waiting."
.
They reached the apartment and Derek let them in, shouting to Casey that they were there because he knew the girls would want to make an entrance. Jazz watched his friend move around the apartment, getting potato chips and dip out, tossing another small beer to his friend – but also emptying the kitchen bin and taking the garbage out, wiping down the kitchen surfaces and picking up the empties and putting them out for recycling. Derek caught him watching.
"I know. I've been assimilated. It has its rewards."
Jazz laughed. He'd watched Casey and Derek over the months that he had known them and he loved the way they were together. They never let each other get away with anything, but they supported each other in every thing. Jazz knew that when Derek disappeared off into a trance, it was usually caused by Casey. And he knew that when she thought he wasn't looking, Casey was always watching Derek. Their love was understated, but it was obvious. Jazz and Penny had talked about it and they both agreed: the love that Derek and Casey shared was the sustainable kind. It wasn't idol-worship, it wasn't aggressive, it wasn't dominant and it wasn't submissive. It was based on give and take, it was based on friendship and support, and whilst no one could doubt the passion, it was based on love.
It was something to aspire to.
Derek's confession tonight that Casey was related to him in ways other than by their marriage had shocked Jazz, but it had also explained a lot. They knew each other well. What did surprise Jazz was that Derek said the marriage wasn't welcomed by their parents, because as an outsider looking in, he didn't see how anyone could disapprove.
.
"How did you know?" Jazz asked as they waited.
"How did I know what?" Derek asked, stretching in the armchair.
"That Casey was the one."
Derek chuckled. "It took a while. We fought like cat and dog for years."
"So what changed?"
Casey's husband smiled and for once answered truthfully. "One day I suddenly realised, all my bad days were days where she didn't fight with me, days where we didn't speak. When we first went to college and she wasn't there everyday I missed her. Living a life without her in it wasn't an option." And he was struck by the honesty in his own statement. It shocked him.
"What about you and Penny?" Derek asked. "Going somewhere?"
Jazz smiled. "She's not like anyone I've ever dated before. It takes no effort to be with her, but I enjoy every minute of it. Yeah. I think this will last a while."
"Forever?"
"Now you sound like a girl, Venturi. You are so whipped."
Derek laughed. "Who gives a fuck? I sure as hell don't." And as he sipped his beer he realised it was the truth.
.
The girls emerged from the bedroom a short time later: Penny in a deep red colour, Casey in a rich blue. The theme for the ball was Burlesque and they had managed to find dresses which looked the part in an understated way and they had feathers in their hair. They both looked sexy and stunning, and their respective dates told them so.
Derek made a grab for Casey's waist and she quickly stepped back out of his reach, giggling.
"Don't muss the hair!" She squealed. He pouted.
"Why do they do this? Spend all afternoon primping and preening themselves and then when they're done they won't let us anywhere near them?"
Penny laughed. "It's all about anticipation, D: Teasing everything male in the room all evening."
Casey's husband frowned. "And we're supposed to let you out like that?" he asked.
His wife stepped back to him and said quietly. "We drive all of them crazy but it's you we go home with."
Jazz grinned. "I suppose it's good for our reps. But I warn you, Pen, you shake that behind of yours too much and you won't be lasting the evening."
She laughed. "Oh god! The caveman surfaces. You were right about this dress, Case."
The hotel chosen for the venue was quite ornate and in the daylight skyline of New York it looked fussy and faded. For tonight, however, it was perfect because it had a Victorian feel and a slightly seedy air.
"How very Moulin Rouge!" Penny said. "Mom would love this."
Casey grinned and the two girls led the more reluctant men through the door.
Inside it was all faded red velvet and chipped gilt paint. It was buzzing with the students of NYU for once all dressed in something other than jeans and hoodies. Some of the girls had really taken the Burlesque theme to extremes and were in bustiers and stockings, but most were in elegant evening dresses, and quite a few had fascinators or other millinery items in their hair.
"Wow!" said Jazz in a low voice to Derek. "It's 'Debbie does it up the Eiffel' for real!"
Derek laughed and Penny smacked her boyfriend.
"Behave!" She ordered and exchanged an exasperated look with Casey.
They furnished themselves with glasses of cheap fizzy white in champagne flutes and hovered in the massive room set aside for the reception. Penny and Casey looked around to see if there was anyone they knew but it was hard to say for certain because everyone looked so different. Derek and Jazz chatted to each other, grateful that neither was going through this torture on their own. Penny took herself off to check the seating plan and when she returned she announced that they would be sharing a table with two professors and their wives. Derek groaned.
"Great. Now we have to be on our best behaviour."
Jazz laughed. "I doubt it. I know those two and they are the biggest soaks on the planet. If anything they are probably going to cause more trouble than you and I ever could."
Casey smiled at Penny. "Which table is Sophie on?"
"I didn't look. Let's go and see." And with that the two girls walked over to the plan.
It was a large block of cardboard with paper tacked to it, and about fifteen circles drawn in a pattern. Inside each circle was a list of people's names. Penny pointed to Table Five which listed: Derek Venturi, Casey Venturi, Penelope Black, Jason Manning etc. It was near the front and one of the lower numbers because Casey had jumped at the chance to get the tickets. They scanned the rest of the board looking for Sophie's name, and Penny eventually found it on Table Eleven.
Casey was still looking at the names on the tables when she felt a shiver of cold run down her spine.
Table Fourteen: Rosemary Venturi.
"Are you okay?" Derek asked as he pulled out the chair for her to sit on at Table Five. She shook her head.
"She's here." She hissed to him. Derek frowned.
"Rosemary Venturi."
"Rosemary who?" he asked, forgetting for a moment the conversation they had had when she returned from Vancouver.
"Rosemary Venturi. Your Dad's past." Casey said. Derek stared at her.
"How do you know?"
Casey straightened her dress and laid her napkin gently in her lap. Derek took his place beside her and did the same.
"Her name is on the planner."
He looked thoughtful. "Well she can't be hiding. She wouldn't use her own name if she was hiding from us, or our detail. Which table is she on?"
"Table Fourteen."
"Where's that?"
"Directly behind us about four tables back. It's empty. We can't keep turning round to look, it's rude."
Derek gave her a strange look. "Casey this could be our safety at stake and you're worried about manners! Have you seen our detail tonight?"
"No. I know it's not Angelo or Ronald. It's one of the faceless wonders."
The faceless wonders was their nickname for the FBI agents assigned to watch them twenty four seven who they hadn't actually been introduced to. In a room full of a couple of hundred strangers including guests, waiters and hotel staff, they didn't have a chance in hell of spotting them.
"So she's here." Derek said. "The question is why."
"No the question is, whose side is she on."
"Do you want to go home?" He said, taking her hand and linking their fingers.
Casey shook her head. "I've been waiting for ages for tonight. I'm not letting a Venturi ruin it for me." She finished her statement with a smile, and her Venturi leaned forward and kissed her.
"I suppose I should be grateful I'm not the bad guy." He muttered against her lips.
Casey sighed. "My mother would probably say otherwise."
The other guests seated themselves, but still the seat on Table Fourteen remained empty. It wasn't until the waiters had started to circle the room with baskets of warmed bread rolls that a shuffle near the door revealed the entrance of a stunning brunette, tall with dark brown hair in her late forties but looking so astonishingly beautiful that all the men on the table she was approaching immediately stood, jaws agape. No one noticed the smaller man who entered the room just in front of her and went to sit at Table Thirteen.
Derek, watching the scene over his shoulder, nudged Casey.
"Rosemary just arrived." He said in a hiss. Casey's eyes widened and she waited a few seconds before turning around to look.
"She's gorgeous!" Casey said when she turned back to her husband.
"I noticed." He smirked into his wine glass. Casey rolled her eyes and he chuckled.
"Is she looking at us?" He asked.
"I'll tell you in a minute, I can't keep turning around and staring." Casey complained shifting in her seat which disturbed the hang of her dress slightly. Derek's eyes got momentarily lost in the sight of the soft round of Casey's breast, just visible at the top of her dress and, in an effort to shake off thoughts which would do no good in public he glanced away at the ornate wall beyond Casey.
Then he realised he was looking at the pink metallic reflection of Table Fourteen in a copper panel set into the wall. He grinned.
"I can see her." He whispered and Casey turned to look at the mirror. She smiled back.
"No. She's not looking at us. Not even looking in our direction." Derek announced.
In fact, throughout the whole meal, she never looked at them once. She did, however, seem to be watching the small man on Table Thirteen.