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silent.
    “That’s it, kid.”
    Another moment, she wanted to scream, but she knew he deserved her strength. “Yep.”
    “Foosball, Kate!” Carly waved at her from the entrance to the game room. “It’s our turn.”
    “Here’s to changing the world,” he said.
    He released her waist. Their fingers, intertwined, relaxed. She drew hers down his palm, prolonging that last electric touch. “To changing the world,” she agreed, and he withdrew his palm.
    Carly, thank God, was as wired as a dollar-store Christmas tree, for Kate felt like she’d had way too much champagne, though she could only remember drinking two glasses. Nearly every foosball shot taken and every attempt defended was the work of her teammate. The best Kate seemed to be able to do was to keep from stepping on Carly’s train.
    She was so muzzy-headed, in fact, she decided she must be seeing things when she spotted that nice man at her table – was his name Patrick? – going through the pockets of the coats on the coat rack. He seemed to find what he was seeking, however, for when she gave him a questioning look he held up a set of keys and smiled. Probably too drunk to find his coat. Drunk at a wedding reception? Imagine that. The next time she looked he was gone.
    They won that round and two more, but they lost in the finals to Joe and Mark, who aimed every shot at Kate, sending her into uncharacteristic giggles, which she also blamed on the champagne.
    “A gentleman,” she said to him as they were gathering their coats, “would have let the drunk girl win.”
    “No one ever accused me of being a gentleman – especially with a drunk girl.”
    She laughed. He helped her on with her coat. He had changed into street clothes now, and he was looking great in jeans and a blazer.
    “I, ah, don’t suppose you’d be interested in one last glass of wine? There’s a wine bar next door to my hotel that looked kind of interesting.”
    There it was, just like she’d been waiting for. She snapped open her purse. A glass of Cabernet on this chilly night. Knees touching at the bar. A pair of strong arms and soft lips.
    “You know,” she said. “I think … I think I’ll take a pass.”
    He looked surprised. She felt surprised. But something in her head just kept saying no. And she’d been trying to teach herself to listen to that voice. Tonight, it was stronger than it had ever been. She’d make the right choice. No doubt. Nonetheless, when he gave her a goodnight kiss, she felt as if she was making a turn on a street she thought she’d follow the rest of her life.
    She fished out her keys, and they made their way out to the parking lot. Mark lassoed a couple of others to join him for a glass. Kate waved as she headed to her car. She heard them drive off. The moon was out, which made the thin layer of snow sparkle. She tried to slip the key into the lock, but it wouldn’t go in. She pulled it out and tried again. Nothing. The lock couldn’t be frozen. It hadn’t snowed in a day, and it was close to forty out. She tried one more time. It wouldn’t budge.
    She gazed around the lot. She could walk back to the hotel, she supposed, and try Triple A, but she spotted Mark’s room-mate, ah, ah … She scoured her memory banks. P.J.! There! I’ve remembered something at least.
    “P.J.!”
    He had an armload of tuxes, though it looked like he’d been standing just outside the hotel exit.
    “Need some help?” He trotted over, transferring the bundle to one arm.
    “Yeah, apparently I’m too drunk to get my key to work.”
    “Wow. Who knew Subarus offered such hi-tech safety features?”
    She laughed.
    “You must have the premium model,” he said. “Mine just flashes a light that says, ‘Pull him over, officer.’”
    “You have a Subaru?”
    “Damn right, sister. Best cars ever.” He dropped the clothes on the trunk and extended his hand for the key.
    But he was no more successful than she’d been. He tried the passenger door and the