"Of course." Isaiah took Karen's hand in his. "This is Karen Meade. I told you about her, we met when I moved to that country home in Illinois." "Oh yes, of course, how quaint." She put her hand out limply, a gesture that was far from heartfelt. "Karen," Izzy continued. "This is Pauline Highland, my mother." He grinned with child-like glee. Oh great, Karen thought as she took the woman's hand and shook it as it remained uncommitted and flaccid. "Nice to meet you. Izzy has told me so much about you." Nothing at all, is what she wanted to say, but the look on Izzy's face plainly warned her to behave. "Oh come now, we don't need to play games. I know much better than that. He hasn't said a word." She gave Isaiah a wilting, mom knows, glare and the color rose in his cheeks. "Izzy!" A loud voice boomed from a figure by the patio doors. A tall man, immaculately dressed in a gold lamiae suit, began to cut a path through the crowd toward them, boisterously plowing through people without comment. His eyes remained fixed on the trio by the table, as he split the crowd in his path with his arrogance. Karen couldn't take her eyes off the bright gold suit, and the long hair that he had pulled back into a ponytail behind him that seemed to contradict the large bald area on top of his head. The new comer stopped directly in front of the leggy woman beside Isaiah and swooped up her hand, kissing the back of it as he all but drooled, "Pauline, always a pleasure, my dear." Karen had, up to that moment assumed the man was Isaiah's father, although she had prayed against the odds that it weren't true. Beneath the smooth exterior and slick appearance she felt deviousness in the presence that had joined them. "And this must be the conspicuously absent lady who snubbed my grand gathering the other day." He bowed to Karen. So this was Bryan Chase, Karen thought. That made more sense; he looked like a man who could control a large company of egocentric, self-centered artists with humor and an iron fist.