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pointed toes blocked our passage. Sometimes painfully.
    Eventually, we were close enough to see Senator Warwick, his wife standing next to him.
    â€œKate, look at that dress. She looks fabulous.” I whispered close to Kate’s ear, but needn’t have worried about being overheard. The din was as loud as a rock concert.
    Victoria, a woman of some years as they say, displayed herself in a full-length emerald lamé gown bearing a “V” neckline that plunged almost to her waist, exhibiting way more than a bit of cleavage.
    â€œI heard she’d had surgery. I thought they said facelift. Apparently, it’s something lower she had lifted.” Kate whispered back with extraordinary cattiness.
    â€œChristian Grover said breast implants stuffed this room,” I replied, grinning.
    â€œChristian’s a pig, but he’s usually right,” Kate responded. “Have you ever noticed how humans are creatures of selective attention?”
    When Kate gets into her Zen, or whatever it is, she’s a little too Eastern for me to take her seriously. “What?”
    â€œAttention focused on any thing creates that thing, Wilhelmina.”
    â€œSo, I’ve created these implants through my imagination? They’re not really here? We’re not being invaded by an alien species of amazons?” I teased her.
    â€œDon’t mock me. You know what I mean. You’re so often in your own world that you don’t see what’s plainly visible.” Sometimes she still acts like my mother. I like it.
    The crowd stepped back a little and we could now observe its nucleus.
    Senator Warwick, speaking loudly enough to be overheard, holding forth on what he proposed to do if the good voters returned him to the Senate in the fall elections. He was talking to O’Connell Worthington and other members of the party who had gathered around him closest. The liberals were adoring fans—conservatives resembled sharks to chub.
    â€œSomething has got to be done about the product liability crisis in this country. A number of our best corporate citizens have been put out of business by these frivolous product liability suits. When I return to the Senate, I’ll make sure America can compete in the global economy without fear of bankrupting its businesses.”
    â€œBlah, blah, blah,” Kate said.
    Preaching to the choir, though this wasn’t a political rally.
    His wife looked glassy-eyed. She might have been drinking before she arrived; George’s staff would not have served her.
    Kate noticed Victoria’s condition, too.
    â€œDuty calls,” she said, squeezed my arm briefly, approached Victoria and led her away.
    I turned to thread my way out when Christian Grover’s voice rose to challenge.
    â€œCome on, Senator. That’s a lie.”
    The collective gasped.
    Warwick replied, “So you claim, Grover. You’re not exactly objective.”
    Grover pressed on. “Maybe. But you are wrong. Statistics repeatedly show very few successful product liability awards to victims in this country. Corporations make billions of dollars selling defective products knowingly, intending to injure consumers. Big business owns you, Warwick. Don’t dress this up like an altruistic crusade.”
    Polite cheers greeted Grover’s comments, too.
    An uncomfortable battle was joined. The atmosphere hung now with hostility. I searched for George and spied him across the wide ballroom, willing him to look my way until he did.
    Warwick punched below the belt in reply. “I suppose you’re handling those seven-hundred lawsuits pro bono?”
    George assessed the situation at once; reached us in half a second; spirited Grover and his date away.
    Crisis averted.
    Red meat off the table; the swarm dispersed like magic.
    Now what?
    What I wanted to do was find Carly. Not an option. George would kill me if I left now. The second best option could be here in the room if Dr.