It was not the bright smile she used for photographs or the gracious one she wore while thanking donors.
It was the private smile she gave me when she believed she had moved me into the exact position she wanted.
I had seen it earlier that evening.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I was seven minutes early.
I had spent too long deciding what to wear because Celeste could make any choice look like a failure of character.
Too formal meant I was seeking attention.
Too casual meant I did not respect the occasion.
I finally chose a simple dark dress and a plain coat, then carried the small gift I had bought for her through the restaurant entrance.
The host directed me toward the private dining area.
I heard the party before I saw it.
Glasses were touching, people were greeting one another, and Celeste was laughing near the center of the table.
