Still, she had to admit that there was something to be said for this kind of stately, classy living.

The gowns alone made the evening worth it. Yes, gowns. In the twenty-first century. It was wonderful.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful dresses,” she muttered at intermission as she leaned over the balcony to people-watch.

His fingers skated over her exposed shoulder blades. “I like your dress best.”

Julie glanced down. She did look pretty good. She hadn’t had anything worthy of Marie Antoinette in her closet, and there’d been no time for shopping, so she’d pulled out her old stand-by. The strapless emerald-green silk had always felt like it was made for her. She always felt pretty in it. But tonight she wasn’t sure if it was the dress that made her pretty or the way that Mitchell had spent the entire first half of the performance sneaking glances at her cle**age instead of watching the stage.

“So what do you think of your first exposure to opera?” he asked, his arm going around the back of her seat.

“Well, I can’t say I plan on becoming a season ticket holder anytime soon. It’s a little . . . intense. But I like the idea of it.”

I like the company is what she wanted to say.

He nodded. “It’s not my preferred entertainment either. But my boss offered me tickets with the kind of awed reluctance of a man being asked to hand over his firstborn, so I figured I’d better accept.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder from where she’d folded both arms on the railing. She gave him a slow, sexy smile. “Well, I’m glad you chose me.”

He snorted. “There you go again with your moves. I thought we were over that phase.”

She smiled again, for real this time. “I can’t lose my touch, ya know? Gotta keep my flirting skills fresh for the next guy.”

His smile slipped, and Julie wanted to slap a hand over her mouth. She knew better. Referencing your next boyfriend as though it was an inevitability was the mark of a fling, not a serious relationship. He pulled his arm back and she bit her lip in regret. Damn it.

Wanting to avoid his piercing gaze, she turned back to people-watching. She made a low tsking noise. “Look at that couple wearing jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers. Dirty sneakers. Don’t they know they’re missing the point of the evening?”

“Yeah, I’m sure the point has nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the audience’s attire,” he said, leaning forward to see where she was looking. He glanced in the direction she indicated and froze.

“You know them?” she asked.

“Not them. The woman behind them,” he said.

Julie’s eyes flew to his profile. That was a tone she hadn’t heard from him yet. Angry? Annoyed? Nervous?

She followed his line of sight, trying to figure out who’d captured his attention. Just then a strawberry blonde in a long black dress turned and glanced up, as though sensing someone’s eyes boring into her back. Her lips parted when she saw Mitchell before breaking out into a wide smile. The woman’s eyes flicked to Julie and her smile slipped.

Ah. So it’s like that then. Ex.

The woman tapped the arm of her older companion, and he too glanced up and waved. Julie gaped when she got a good look at his face. “Isn’t that Senator Blake?”

“Yup,” Mitchell said, looking more annoyed than surprised.

The red-haired woman beckoned him with a fussy little wiggle of her fingers.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I have to go say hello.”

“Now?” Julie asked in surprise. “Isn’t the screeching, er, singing about to start again?”

“No. These intermissions are tediously long. I have plenty of time. Unfortunately.”

Julie didn’t miss that he’d said I and not we. “You want me to go with you?”

His expression said it all: Not really. But then he glanced down at the redhead, who was staring up at him with a longing expression. Mitchell sighed. “Actually, maybe this will be easier if you do come.”

“So you don’t get eaten alive?” she asked as he led her out of their box and toward the elaborately curved staircase.

“Trust me, Evvy’s not the type to eat anyone alive.”

“Evvy?”

“Evelyn Blake. My ex. I may have forgotten to mention that she’s the senator’s daughter.”

Julie whistled. “You dated the senator’s daughter? You must feel like you’re slumming it with me.”

Mitchell gave her a quick glance. “I admit, Evelyn didn’t quite have your cooking skills.”

“I’d be happy to offer her a couple of lessons, but from the looks of things, I’m not expecting a friendship bracelet from her anytime soon.”

“What the hell is a friendship bracelet?” Mitchell muttered as he dragged her toward the spot where they’d seen Evelyn and the senator on the main level. She noticed that he knew exactly where he was going and exactly which set of closed curtains belonged to the Blakes’ box.

Not your first time at this circus, is it?

“Mitchell!” Evelyn breathed, coming forward with extended hands.

Julie had the sudden urge to step closer to him, and the possessive impulse was so foreign and disconcerting that she overcorrected and took two giant steps in the opposite direction.

She regretted her backward movement as soon as Evelyn stepped forward and wound her skinny arms around Mitchell’s neck, giving him a long, lingering hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said in a soft, breathy voice.

Julie almost winced at the expression on the other woman’s face. She might as well have screamed, Take me back and let me have your boring babies.

Mitchell cleared his throat and cut a glance at Julie.

“Ev, this is Julie Greene.”

“Oh!” Evelyn said, as though she’d just now noticed Mitchell had entered with another woman. She turned slowly to face Julie. Her cornflower-blue eyes skimmed over Julie in a subtly condescending manner, the gesture so brief and well done that any man would have missed the bitchiness of it. But Julie didn’t.

She returned the favor. If someone had asked her to sketch out the female version of Mitchell, it would have looked a lot like this. The floor-length, one-shouldered black gown was fashionable yet conservative. The long, wavy strawberry-blond hair was feminine but not overtly sexy. She had straight, even features and a thin, boyish body.

The only thing interesting about her was her eyes, which had turned frosty when they fell on Julie.

“Ms. Greene,” Evelyn said, extending a bony hand. She didn’t take the necessary step to close the gap between them, requiring Julie to do the moving to shake her hand.

Instead, Julie matched Evelyn’s gesture, extending her own hand without moving her feet, so that there was a good foot of space between their extended fingers. Julie thought she heard Mitchell cough out a horrified laugh.

Julie raised an eyebrow, and they had a silent pissing contest until Evelyn slowly lowered her hand and narrowed her eyes. “I’m familiar with your work, Ms. Greene. I have friends who are big fans, although I confess Stiletto’s not my usual reading unless I’m in the dentist’s waiting area and desperate,” she said with a little laugh.

“Of course. Stiletto’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. Certainly not for everybody.”

Evelyn’s eye twitched as though trying to figure out if she’d been insulted, but Julie pressed on. “I’m afraid you have me at the disadvantage in introductions. You are . . . ?”

Mitchell stepped forward, attempting to ease the introductions, but Evelyn stopped him with a hand on his chest. Julie swallowed away the lump in her throat at the proprietary movement.

“You don’t follow politics, Ms. Greene?”

“Too busy shoe shopping, I guess. And hanging out with Mitchell.”

Julie intentionally let her gaze drift to Mitchell’s crotch, and he gave her an exasperated look. Before Evelyn could swipe back, Senator Blake ended his conversation with a constituent in the neighboring box and headed their way.

Julie was disappointed. Other than her ongoing feud with Kelli Kearns in the office, she rarely had a good catfight.