Alan paced anxiously, waiting for Rosalie to arrive at the party. They'd agreed to arrive separately to avoid any questions and had playfully refused to let him see her dress, and when he'd left her she had just stepped out of the shower. She had her music playing on the laptop and hadn't noticed him watching her as she danced around in a dressing gown, towel drying her hair and applying her face cream. He had cleared his throat and she'd turned around, smiling, as he gestured for help with his bow tie. As he'd left, tie tied and her goodbye kiss still warming his lips, he felt a sense of premature loss. Nothing good lasts forever. Now, he drank his champagne and waited for her to arrive.

The elevator pinged softly and the doors opened. Rosalie stepped out, and Alan thought he might have stopped breathing. She was in a navy floor-length ballgown with a full skirt and tight bodice, the sleeves hanging lightly off her shoulders. Her unruly curls were pulled up into a chic chignon bun and she wore a simple diamond necklace. She looked like Grace Kelly, an Old Hollywood beauty. It felt for a moment as though she had a spotlight on her, and Alan was suddenly acutely aware that he wasn't the only one staring at her, mentally undressing her, but he was the only one who knew about her small tattoo and the exact placement of the freckles on her back. He was the only one who knew where the sweat beaded on her skin when they had sex, or the particular way she rubbed her feet together before falling asleep. In slow motion, he saw her walking towards him, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing tray before having her arm grabbed by Denny.

"Rosie! You came! And you look so…" He struggled to find the words, kissing her cheek and holding her in a tight hug. "So like your mother."

"Lucky me," she said with a hint of sarcasm as she hugged him back. "Hi, Dad." He held her away from him again to look at her, and beamed.

"I'm glad you came. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about the whole forgetting I'd invited you to Alan's party thing." He whispered in her ear, "I've got Mad Cow Disease."

Rosalie laughed and squeezed his arm. "Sure thing, Dad. I'm sorry I got so angry – it was a long day by the time I got off the plane. How are you?"

"I'm so much better now you're here. Did you get my flowers? And the money? You must meet Shirley, let me take you to her." He steered her away towards the bottom of the staircase where a number of partners were stood talking, and she looked back over her shoulder for Alan. He had disappeared into the crowd. With a small sigh, she looked down before smiling and greeting the group of partners before her.

Alan stood on the balcony some time later, smoking a cigar and drinking scotch alone. Something about seeing Rosalie and Denny together had made him want to leave them in peace and let Denny have his toy for the night. It made him a little angry to think that once Rosalie was gone, he would probably never hear her name again. He'd never heard it before the party after all. Denny came out onto the balcony quietly and took his usual seat.

"Are you sleeping with her?" Alan looked around at his friend, not sure what to say. There was a long pause, and Denny repeated, "Are you sleeping with her? I don't want to ask again."

"Yes."

"Do you care about her?"

"I didn't mean to keep it from you, my friend. I'm sorry."

"Alan, she is my daughter and I need to know if you care about her." Denny looked seriously at him, lighting a cigar. "She is my only daughter."

"I do care about her."

"Thank you for your honesty." Denny puffed his cigar for a while and said nothing. Alan watched him with interest. He knew better than to try and understand his friend's mental machinations but he couldn't help but wonder what he thought. Then, he spoke again.

"I knew something was going on with you, we haven't seen each other for a sleepover in a long time and I got the feeling you didn't want to talk. I probably should have known it was a woman, as it often is." He got up from his seat and stood next to Alan. "You have my blessing but do me a favour – look after her for me. She knows about the Mad Cow but… I don't know what to tell her."

"Denny, of course I will look after her. The reason she came back here was for you, not me. We just happened to, uh, click."

"Alan, I mean it. Care for her and look after her, and when you're done you let her down gently." Denny clapped his friend on the arm, smiled, and started to return to the party.

"What about you, Denny? Do you care for her? Only, you never mentioned her to me before she came to the party."

"I care deeply for her. But as I said, she didn't need me around. Now I think we both want each other around. Need and want are very different." With that, Denny carried on into the building and Alan mulled the situation over a little while longer.

Rosalie was dancing with Brad when Alan came back into the room. Brad looked smug, as if he had won, and it riled Alan.

"So that's her," Shirley said from beside him.

"It is indeed."

"Denny's daughter, who would have thought it?"

"It's not like that." Alan sipped some scotch, watching Rosalie move gracefully alongside Brad's lumbering steps. "Why is she dancing with that oaf?"

"Because she wants to dance with you, Alan. She hasn't stopped looking for you all evening." Alan sighed and drank more scotch.

"Denny gave me his blessing. For seeing a daughter I didn't even know he had. It troubles me."

"They don't have space for each other in their lives Alan. That's all it is. Denny loves his children – he just doesn't ever talk about them." Shirley scanned the room and then put her glass down. "Speaking of Denny, I think he is about to sexually harass a client. Excuse me." She walked away and left Alan watching Rosalie dance with Brad, watching her laugh with him and waltz stylishly. He couldn't take it any longer. Crossing the dancefloor, he stood next to Brad.

"May I?"

"It's not the end of the song yet, sport."

"Does that really matter?"

"Yes, wait your turn."

"Brad, really it's fine. I need a break anyway, it's a little warm. Is there anywhere I could go for a cigarette?" Rosalie flashed her eyes at Alan and moved off the dancefloor.

"What did you do that for, that was rude," she whispered to him as they moved towards the back of the room. "I'm really embarrassed Alan."

"Denny knows about us." He ushered her down the corridor and into his office, opening a window. "He gave us his blessing."

"Yes, I'm fully aware he knows. Now you need to go and apologise to Brad."

"What? Don't you see what this means? We can do this in public now, if we wanted to."

"Yeah we can, but you don't get to treat people like shit because you're happy." She looked at him angrily, lighting a cigarette and leaning out of the window. "You need to apologise to him."

"Maybe you should be apologizing to me for dancing with him then?" Alan suddenly realized he was angry. He was jealous and he was angry.

"I can dance with whoever I like Alan, I am not property and I am certainly not yours. You were the one who walked away and left me alone in there." Alan sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just… seeing you dance with him hurt me."

"You walking away hurt me." Her voice was gentler now and she threw her half-smoked cigarette out of the window. "I care about you Alan and I wanted your support in there."

"I care about you too. And that's intimidating for me." Rosalie walked over to him and placed her hands on his chest.

"I just wanted you there. To come and rescue me from talking to old white men who were staring at my boobs. I want to be proudly on your arm out there, but you are holding back."

"I can't promise that will stop any time soon. But I would love to dance with you out there, and kiss you, and stare at your boobs." She chuckled softly, and Alan wrapped his arms around her waist. "Do you know how exquisite you look tonight?"

"I think I was tripping over Brad's tongue half the night if that's what you mean," she said with a smile, before kissing him softly.

Alan led her proudly onto the dancefloor, his arm around her waist and the other holding hers. They moved together in time to the music, and he felt people watching them. He didn't care too much about that now, feeling Rosalie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. He saw Denny watching them, raising his glass slightly to him, but watching carefully.

"Are you going to dip me, for old time's sake?"

"It's tradition now, surely." He gracefully dipped her, and kissed her tenderly.