"Hey, guys!" he greeted his bosses. By that time, Shauna had also joined them, and a woman Connor didn't recognize sat next to Marsh. Connor put both coffees down, pulled up a chair directly to Reg's right, and nudged the two creams one sugar over until it was in front of Reg.

Marsh, Zephyr, and Shauna returned his greeting, and Shauna added, "Did you come alone?"

"Yeah. I tried to talk my roommate into coming with me, but he was too busy doing his thing on eBay. Hey, sorry I didn't get the rest of you any coffee. I can go back if you want."

Shauna laughed. "Connor, you're not the assistant here. Relax; let people get their own coffee. Oh, I've gotta get going. The band looks like it's done with the sound check."

"Break a leg," Marsh called after her as she dashed over to the tiny dais that sufficed as a stage.

Connor watched Shauna until she joined the band on stage. The four other band members all appeared to be casual performers in their thirties, clean-cut Caucasians, probably all professionals in some nonmusical careers. They wore jeans and plaid shirts and tee shirts; one was balding, and the bassist wore tacky, bright green sneakers. Shauna fit in well among them with her mousy-brown bob haircut and loose jeans that downplayed her feminine shape.

As he turned to his coffee, Marsh got his attention. "This is Connor, our new junior tech," he told the woman beside him. "Connor, Tracy."

Connor extended his hand to her across the table. "Nice to meet you."

"Same to you," she said with a smile as she accepted his handshake. Tracy was a petite woman, considerably younger-looking than Marsh, with a complexion the color of Reg's coffee. At first, Connor thought she was East Indian or Middle Eastern, but her straight, red-brown, shoulder-length hair had a certain coarse texture that suggested African-American genes. Connor guessed she was a mulatto. She had that distinctive mulatto attractiveness that drew from the best features of White and Black - for instance, large, round eyes that flashed hazel behind her trendy little rectangular glasses, and lips that were full but not loose. Connor had to admit he was surprised. Not that he especially clung to stereotypes, but, quite frankly, he wouldn't have expected to see Marsh with a woman like Tracy.

"So you're one of the men from MARZ?" Tracy asked him.

"Uh, yeah. I'm Zephyr's assistant, mostly, and Reg's." He glanced at his two superiors as he named them; Zephyr was half-listening to something Marsh was saying as his eyes wandered around the room, and Reg seemed deeply engrossed in his coffee. Connor decided that bringing it to him had been a good choice. He turned back to Tracy and met her direct gaze. Damn, he could fall into her eyes if he weren't careful. "I also attend HSU in the evenings. What do you do?"

"I'm a radiology technician," she replied. Her voice was soft with just enough of an edge to cut over the ambient noise of the audience around them.

Connor nodded. "Is that interesting?" he asked.

Tracy shrugged. "I meet a lot of people for a few minutes at a time."

"Well, that could be interesting. I bet you make a lot of observations about people in general."

"I guess. I still don't think of my patients as 'people in general.' I don't want to get too impersonal."

Connor sipped his coffee and replied, "You must be really good at it, then. They must appreciate that."

"I hope so," Tracy said with a smile that seemed to convey a mix of emotions. Connor found himself wanting to know what those emotions were. Tracy was more than physically attractive; she was compelling, with a warmth and gentleness that Lauralynn never had.

Okay, comparing Tracy to Lauralynn was a bad thing to do. Even if he were ready to rebound, starting with the big boss' date was not an option. Just because Tracy attracted him on several levels didn't give him license to flirt. Or even to dream.

Connor started to say something else but was interrupted by one of the men on stage. "Hello, and welcome to..." One of the man's bandmates dove for the sound system and adjusted the volume to cut the feedback. The speaker tried again. "Got it? Okay. Welcome, everybody. I'm Tim Rappe, and this here behind me is... hey, Jeff, what are we calling ourselves now? Right. We're Black Dog, and we'll be entertaining you all at the first annual Ida Society Benefit for Breast Cancer Awareness... did I get that right, Emma? Cool. Okay, there's a complementary dinner buffet to your left, with complementary coffee by the door there, and the bar is open. Most of the bar proceeds will go toward the charity. Please have your ID handy if you're young enough to be carded. All right, we have a great show planned for you tonight... the lovely, sultry-voiced Shauna Kisco is our guest singer for tonight, and one of the organizers of this event. We take... do we take requests? Okay, we might take requests, if you request a song we know. It's worth a shot. All right... enjoy."

The band launched into Paul Simon's "Kodakchrome" and Connor waved to Shauna as she took her place to sing background vocals. When he turned back to Tracy, he found that she'd joined the discussion between Marsh and Zephyr. The music wasn't loud enough to drown it out, so he listened. Or at least he tried to. Part of him was more interested in observing how Tracy's eyes got wide when she made a passionate comment, and how they bunched up so cutely when she laughed. Oh, and she had the most appealing laugh; a high, rich, heartfelt giggle that made her glow even more, if possible...

He noticed a line forming at the buffet and realized he was hungry. But he didn't want to get up and fix himself a plate unless he was sure someone else at the table was going to eat, too. Few things were more awkward than being the only person in a group who had food in front of him. The bar was also a consideration, although he only had four dollars to spend on drinks. Still, he was sure he could get a couple of beers, or maybe a mixed drink. Connor hadn't tried many mixed drinks; they were usually out of his price range, and his drinking buddies were all beer men. This might be his chance! He could think it through carefully so he sounded like he knew what he was doing... he could order something with a cool name like a white zombie or Long Island iced tea... or sex on the beach! Yeah! And Tracy would be all impressed, and...

No, Connor admonished himself, this was the wrong way to go about it. Tracy would probably see right through his pretenses. Maybe he should just get something he was familiar with, like a Heineken. He'd get one for her, too. Oh, except she was Mr. Dykstra's date.

He could get Reg something... or was bringing Reg a coffee and a drink too obnoxious? If anyone asked him why he'd done it, he wouldn't have an intelligent answer. He simply kept having a strange urge to be nice to Reg.

When Marsh finally stood and suggested getting dinner, Connor joined him. Tracy followed close behind him.

"They're pretty good," she observed of the band as they waited in line together.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Except the guitarist keeps misplacing his middle finger on the A minor chord. At first I thought his guitar was out of tune, but no, he just isn't pressing down hard enough. He does that on several chords, in fact. Look, there he goes again."

Connor turned to look, but he wasn't sure what he was looking for. He wasn't even sure he knew what Tracy meant. "Oh yeah," he agreed anyway. He turned back to her. "Well, they are amateurs. Shauna is, anyway. She's really just an engineer."

Tracy blinked at him. "Oh! Oh, don't mind me. I don't mean to be overly critical. I just happened to notice it. They're otherwise reasonably good."

"It's okay," Connor assured her. "Doesn't bother me any."

Marsh thrust a serving spoon into his hand and he took a plate and scooped himself a generous portion of salad. He added croutons and olives and moved to shovel some of the fettuccine alfredo onto the empty spot beside it, but caught himself after one scoop. It was bad form to pile his plate, he reminded himself. People's glares got especially withering when they saw a fat person doing it. Skimping would have been too obvious as well. He carefully allowed himself a tiny additional amount of alfredo and concentrated on taking well-considered portions of fish and mixed vegetables. He skipped the chicken and the rolls entirely. When he was satisfied that he had performed the task just right - not too much food, but enough to feed him somewhat - he suddenly realized that Tracy had been trying to talk to him the entire time. Embarrassed, he nodded agreeably at her and followed her back to their table.

"Want something to drink?" she asked him once they had arrived and put their plates down. "There's soda and juice over there. I'll get it for you. Zeph, Reg, want anything?"

"Get us orange juices," Zephyr told her.

Connor started to accompany her, but she motioned for him to sit. "What do you want?"

Caught off guard, Connor hesitated. "Get me whatever," he replied awkwardly.

"Okay." Tracy turned and left. Marsh sat down with his dinner and acknowledged Connor with a nod (and without that dreaded glare, which boosted Connor's confidence). Connor smiled back and made a point not to watch the boss' date walk away with that subtle but delicious hip-swaying motion that was even more apparent from behind.

Marsh turned to Zephyr. "Do you two need any help with the buffet?" he asked.

"No, course not. I'm just waiting until things clear out a little. Hey, Shauna sounds great, huh? Look at her up there. She's a natural."

Shauna wrapped up her first solo, "Starry Starry Night," and moved on to "These Dreams," which Connor recognized from his sister's Heart phase back in junior high. He watched her for a few moments, then got started on his salad. He looked up when Zephyr made a sudden burst of frustration and noticed that Reg had left.

At about the same moment, Tracy arrived with a tray of drinks. "Where's Reg?" she asked. "I got his orange juice."

Connor couldn't answer, even if he hadn't had his mouth full at the time, so he stayed quiet as Zephyr mumbled something and hurried off... as well as Zephyr could hurry, anyway.

Tracy placed a cup in front of him. "I hope you like lemonade. If not, you can take one of the orange juices and I can replace it when the guys get back."

"Lemonade's fine, thanks," Connor managed to say.

Tracy smiled at him and delicately poked at her dinner. After a few bites, she turned to him again and asked, "So you work with Zephyr and Reg? What's it like?"

Oh, the stories I could tell you, Connor considered saying. But he knew if he tried that approach, Zephyr would find out about it and let him have it. Even if he didn't actually share any of the things he knew Zephyr considered taboo. His job depended as much on his sense of discretion as it did on his good judgment. "I like it," he said instead. "It's not really that exciting... I accompany Zephyr on field appointments and take a lot of notes. And there are a lot of meetings. We have meetings about everything."

"Oh. Do you get to build anything?"

"Not really, not yet. The most I get to do is observe Reg working, but that's pretty good. He doesn't mind having an audience, and I'm getting pretty good at anticipating the things he needs me to help him with."

Tracy's eyes lit up while he spoke, and he began to wonder whether maybe she... you know... liked him. He had assumed she was considerably older than him simply because she was with Marsh, and Marsh surely wouldn't date someone Connor's age (would he?) but it was hard to tell. Tracy was so slightly built, and he couldn't decide whether her mannerisms suggested maturity or youth. She seemed to be an eclectic mix of both. Well, she must have finished a decent amount of college, he mused, so she couldn't be too young. Maybe she thought he was older than he really was.

He glanced furtively at Marsh, but Marsh paid them no attention. He didn't even seem to notice that his girlfriend was talking to another guy. In fact, when Shauna finished up an amusing rendition of "Leader of the Pack" and rejoined the table, Marsh focused eagerly on her. Shauna moved on to another table and Marsh finally inserted himself into their conversation, which had fortunately turned to the safe topic of old movies.

The conversation remained fairly mundane for the rest of the evening, but the way Tracy said, "It was nice meeting you, Connor" in the parking lot on their way out, Connor couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. He alternately cursed and praised himself for not requesting her phone number for the entire drive home.