"Some people don't see money as a solution to their problems." She was pretty sure he didn't hear her as he disappeared into the house. Cynthia passed her brother as he stormed through the patio doors. She smirked, and then continued over to sit down by Marie.

"Your brother is a dick," Marie said, picking up Steve's discarded glass, and taking a generous gulp.

"Yeah, he is."

****

On a dance floor, women in resplendent gowns were swept across the expanse by the lustful chords of a waltz in the embrace of gallant men. A full orchestra played as people scattered about at tables surrounding the dance floor dined in exclusive luxury. Marie regarded the scene with growing apathy. Her own escort, sitting quietly across from her in a neatly tailored Armani suit, was for the moment quiet.

Marie found herself wishing he'd say something. He'd been quiet from the moment he left her sitting by the pool. He hadn't spoken more than a couple words when he picked her up that evening, until then, and it was getting on her nerves. She almost preferred him being an ass, to being sullen.

She picked up her napkin, patted her lips clean of the meal that was untouched, and decided to leave. No use wasting the rest of the evening, but Steve stopped her. "I'm sorry about this morning."

Marie relaxed in her chair. She regarded him with a cautious look. "I don't know what to do. I feel so lost. I've been married twenty years."