She’d dropped into a frat party to hear them, but the congressman’s wife wouldn’t want to know that. Three different guys had hit on Skye in the twenty minutes she’d been in the house. The fact that they were barely out of high school and completely drunk had pretty much diluted any possible compliment.

“Interesting,” the other woman said.

Skye was pretty sure she actually meant something more along the lines of “horrifying” but was too polite to say that. Skye didn’t care. She liked the guys and their music. She could go the rest of her life without hearing another tasteful quartet.

She excused herself to circulate. There were two hundred people to greet and make feel welcome. The evening seemed more stressful than usual, probably because of her fight with Izzy. She hated arguing with either of her sisters. With their mother gone and Jed being, well, Jed, they only had one another to depend on.

They would talk later, she promised herself. Make things right.

“So far, so good,” Jed said as he moved past her.

Skye shook her head. She knew what her father implied-that things were fine now, but the evening wasn’t over. There could still be a disaster.

“Have you noticed that every party I’ve given has been perfect?” she muttered.

“I’m not sure talking to yourself gives a good first impression.”

Skye turned toward the speaker and saw T.J. next to her. “Maybe not, but it ensures I have plenty of personal space. How are you? If you’re looking for Izzy, this isn’t her thing. Or is talking to me going to work, too?”

T.J. winced. “So you did hear.”

“News travels fast. Titanville is a small town.”

“And the doors at Glory’s Gate need to be thicker.” He put his hand on her back and guided her to a corner. “I’m sorry. I doubt me saying that makes a difference, but I really am. I was making a point with your father.”

He sounded sincere, which meant exactly nothing. “The point being?”