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Tristan reached over and ran his fingers through his hair. “I still maintain your parents’ greatest crime, apart from being arseholes, was having someone with gorgeous curls like yours and not teaching you how to look after them.”
Leo tilted his head back, leaning into the touch like a particularly affectionate cat.
The doors leading to the ballroom opened.
“Here they are!” Mum exclaimed, trailing Dad and Kev behind her. She strode up to them and folded her arms. “So that’s what you do to make your pocket money?”
“I’m twenty-eight, Mum,” Tristan said. “We don’t call it pocket money. We call it fun money. But yeah, that’s what I do.”
“Still got that lawyer’s card I gave you?” Dad asked.
“Yes, but I haven’t needed it yet.”
“Leo, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mum said. “Welcome to the circus, I guess.”
“Well, that’s what you get for dating a clown,” Dad said.
Tristan rolled his eyes. “I’m more of a lion tamer.”
Dad snorted. “Whatever you say, son.”
“Oh, wait, no. Contortionist.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kingsbury,” Leo said. He bit his bottom lip. “I’m sorry about my parents. They were incredibly rude.”
Mum flapped a hand. “Call me Lillian. And don’t worry about it. Honestly, your mother’s been practically stalking my office trying to get your father on the card for pre-selection. She doesn’t take no for an answer, does she?”
“She really doesn’t,” Leo agreed.
“I suppose one upside of tonight is that at least I don’t have to tell your father he’s not going to be the new candidate. He never was, really.”
“Oh?” Tristan asked. “I thought it was in the bag?”
“Oh, no.” Lillian laughed. “Kev’s got much stronger ties to the community, and he’s a lot more progressive on social issues. Have you two met before?”
“No,” Tristan said.
“Yes,” Kev said.
Tristan blinked. “Sorry?”
Kev let out a tinkling laugh that was startling in its familiarity. “Don’t play coy, Cinderella. And you totally fucked up that curtsy, by the way.”
“Holy shit. Miss O’Jenny?” He never would have recognised her out of drag. Well, he’d just sat across from her for an entire meal, and apart from thinking that middle-aged guy looked vaguely familiar in some way, the penny had never dropped. “You’re so much shorter without your hair!”
“If you have any opinions on my daytime persona, keep them to yourself.” Kev arched an eyebrow, but somehow it wasn’t nearly as menacing as usual— possibly due to the lack of glitter eyeshadow.
“Wait,” Leo said. “You’re Miss O’Jenny? I’m so confused right now. You’re not a dentist as well, are you?”
Kev laughed. “No, sweetheart. I’m an accountant. Actually, I’ve been trying to catch up with you over Jimmy’s financials, but we seem to keep missing each other.”
Leo’s mouth dropped open. “You’re Kevin O’Brien?”
“Of course, darling,” Kev said. “Who else would Jimmy have trusted to look after his accounts? You know, I tried to convince him computerised records were safe since the nineties, but he didn’t trust any numbers he couldn’t see in a book. He thought digital records weren’t real. Don’t even get me started on his opinions on stocks. Anyway, I digitised it all regardless, and I’ve got records of everything, so I can email them to you whenever you want, though it’d be much more fun to go somewhere fancy, call it a business lunch, and we can both claim it on our taxes, hmm? I know a place in North Bondi that does amazing brunches.”
“Can I come?” Tristan asked. “I’d be prepared to get out of bed for a good brunch.” Which really, he thought was very selfless of him, given how he felt about being awake before noon.
“Of course, darling,” Kev said. He looked Tristan up and down critically. “You can come and return that gown, once you’ve had that sauce stain dry-cleaned.”
