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Noah, who had finally reached the head of the drinks line. He waved and smiled back before turning his attention to the bartender.
    “Dr. Underwood.” Winnie nodded knowingly. “I thought you two might end up together again. Although I figured that hot U.S. Marshal you’ve been seeing might edge out the gallant doctor.”
    “Noah and I are just friends,” I protested. “His date cancelled on him at the last minute.” After a nanosecond, I quickly added, “And Jake and I are just . . .” I trailed off, not sure what Jake and I were, and if we ever would be anything now that he was back in St. Louis working with his ex.
    Zizi poked her mother again. “There’s no reason she can’t have both guys. One’s hot and one’s sweet—just the right combo.”
    “So true.” Winnie’s voice was reminiscent. “That was what was so great about the whole free-love movement in the sixties. Living in Haight-Ashbury was like being in the middle of a gigantic Whitman’s Sampler filled with men. You could try a different flavor every day. Heck, even every hour, if you had the stamina.”
    “Which is why you have no idea who my father is.” Zizi snickered, but her robin’s-egg-blue eyes were a little sad. “You don’t think I believed the sperm-donor story of yours for a minute, did you?”
    I had been silent while Winnie and her daughter went back and forth; it was hard to join a conversation with that duo. But seeing Zizi’s expression, I decided it was time to change the subject. “So.” I searched my mind for something to say. “Noah mentioned he’s on the dance committee. Are you both on the committee, too?”
    “I was.” Zizi raised her hand. “Mom didn’t think the dance was a good idea for a fund-raiser.” She gestured around the elaborately decorated room. “She thought it cost too much to put on and we wouldn’t make a profit.”
    “And I still do.” Winnie shook her head and tsk ed. “For most of the women, this is just an excuse to buy a new dress and show off.”
    “Which is why we added the auction,” Noah said, joining us. “We know we’ll only make a small amount on the dance tickets, but we should make quite a bit on the drinks and even more on the auction items.”
    “What do you have for us to bid on?” I asked, looking around for a table full of goodies.
    “Mostly merchandise or services donated by local businesses,” Noah explained.
    “Why didn’t anyone ask me for something from the dime store?”
    “You never returned my call.” Noah held my gaze. “Guess you didn’t get my message.”
    “Sorry. My phone’s been eating my voice mail lately,” I lied.
    “Right.” Noah’s expression was skeptical. “That must have been what happened.”
    I stared back at him, refusing to admit I’d been deleting his messages without even listening to them.
    “Some people gave us stuff they didn’t want,” Zizi said, breaking the tense silence.
    “You mean like their junk?” I didn’t think this crowd would bid for used books, old exercise equipment, or last year’s coat.
    “No.” Zizi giggled. “Mostly either new items that had been gifts they didn’t like or antiques and collectibles they were tired of.”
    “I see.” My ears perked up at the words antiques and collectibles . “Where are the auction items?” I glanced around again. “I’d love to check out the old stuff.”
    “Behind those folding doors.” Noah tipped his head to our right. “We’re keeping it all a surprise until we start the auction. Then we’ll do a big reveal.”
    “Although you might be able to persuade the auctioneer to give you a sneak peek,” Winnie said with an innocent look on her face.
    “Oh?”
    “Yeah,” Zizi joined in, sliding a mischievous glance between Noah and me. “I bet the auctioneer could be bribed. Say, with a kiss.”
    “I’m sure that’s not true.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to catch Zizi’s drift, and I glanced at Noah before adding, “Guess