“This is my first.”

His expression may have questioned her answer, but he didn’t say anything.

With a small smile, she asked, “What’s your name?”

Her current smile was the most contained thing he had witnessed about her tonight, and he found it endearing. “Taylor,” he responded. “What’s yours?”

“Judith. My family calls me Jude. You can call me Jude, too.”

Watching the quirky girl in front of him, he examined everything about her, noting she hadn’t even taken a sip of the drink yet. “But we’re not family.”

Nudging him with her elbow, she laughed. “We’re not friends either, but we will be.”

“We’ll be friends or we’ll be family?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her expression turning thoughtful. “Let’s see where the night takes us.”

Taylor almost argued that the night wasn’t going to be taking them anywhere, but he couldn’t. As he stood there, he started feeling a loss of his own senses. Somehow, pretty little Jude made him believe there was a possibility. Her free spirit was contagious, and in the middle of this repressed party, he started to relax. “What do you do, Jude?”

“Well, Hazel,” she said with a smirk, “I’m glad you asked.”

“Hazel?”

“Your eyes. They’re hazel. Did you know that hazel is actually a very rare eye color? Most people think it’s just an awkward brown that doesn’t have any self-identity. But it does. Your eyes do.” She lifted up again to go in for a closer look. “Yep, Rayleigh scattering.”

“Rayleigh scattering?” he asked, voluntarily widening his eyes for her to see them better. He finally just took off his glasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket. He liked to wear them for distance but didn’t need them tonight.

She sighed, perplexed. “Hazel. It’s just an impossible color.”

Leaning in to see hers, he asked, “Green?”

“Blue, but mine too suffer from a variance that is often confused by what I’m wearing. I mean,” she said, shrugging, “they really don’t, but people like to say they change when I wear blue or green or whatever. But they don’t change. My clothes do.”

He nodded, almost lost, but managed to keep up. “Do you always talk like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re manic?”

“Manic or a maniac?”

“Manic. I don’t think you’re a maniac.”

She seemed to ponder that and looked away. When she turned back, she asked, “So Hazel, what do you architect?”

“Homes. A few buildings around the city. Why are you calling me Hazel? Because of my eyes?” When a few seconds passed and she didn’t reply, he realized she didn’t tend to answer his questions, so he redirected the conversation. “And you?”

With surprise, her eyes went wide and her hand covered her chest. “Oh, I’m not an architect. Is that what this party is? A party for architects?”

Taylor was fully confused and shook his head. “No,” he said, looking around. “It’s a party for The Barretts.”

Whispering, she asked, “What’s a Barrett?”

Nothing about this woman made any sense, but he liked her chaos. He leaned over, pointed across the room at an older couple near a large fireplace, and whispered, “Those are Barretts.”

“Ahh.” Bringing the drink to her lips, she took a small sip as she watched them over the crystal glass, and then asked, “Never seen them before. Who are they?”

With his head almost touching hers, he leaned to her ear and whispered, “They’re wealthy Upper East Siders who host parties for colleagues and charities pretending to be doing it for the cause, but really it’s for the publicity.”

Her eyes were fixated on the hosts, and it took great effort resisting the temptation to look at him. “And are you one of their ‘causes?’”

“I am.” Just as he answered, the Barretts, as if aware of their name being spoken moments earlier, came toward them. “Shit,” Taylor muttered under his breath. He straightened back up and returned their smiles.

“Taylor, darling.” The gray-haired woman with smooth skin and bright pink lipstick leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “So glad you could make it.” Her eyes focused on him, but sincerity seemed to be missing in her greeting.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jude noticed how flat his tone was, and that the life in his eyes that had sparked when whispering with her had dulled in their presence. That was no good, and she hoped it returned once they left.

The older man shook Taylor’s hand and patted his arm with the other. “How’s the world of architecture?”

When they released, Taylor’s right hand started to shake and he tucked it into his pocket. “I’m currently working on four projects.”

“Good. Good. That’s good to hear, son.”

Mrs. Barrett asked, “Who’s your friend, Taylor?”

Jude could tell the woman wasn’t invested in the answer before he had a chance to give it. She was all too familiar with that judgmental, condescending tight-lipped grin. Taylor slid his hand down the underside of Jude’s arm and weaved his fingers together with hers. “This is Judith.”

The Barretts faced her and smiled. In unison, they said, “Hello, Judith.”

“Hello,” she replied meekly, feeling her body shrink away from their disingenuous gaze. As if Taylor understood discomfort, his hold on her tightened, causing her to look up. His smile was soft. The architect made her feel safe, so she ignored the desire to flee, and stayed.

Their clasped hands were of deep concern to The Barretts judging from their critical gaze. “And how long have you known each other?” Mrs. Barrett asked.

Taylor was fast and confident. “Feels like our whole lives.”

Mrs. Barrett continued to smile, but it stopped short of her eyes. “How charming. Hopefully we’ll get to hear more about it over dinner soon. But for now, we must greet Mr. and Mrs. Stevens. They’ve been begging us to come to dinner. Speaking of, the food is being replenished. Please eat before you leave.” Her hands held his shoulders and she kissed his cheek again before taking her husband’s arm and making a quick getaway.

Taylor and Jude stood there silently recovering from the pretentious welcoming that just drove by and hit them. Peeking down at their still entwined hands, and then up, she asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

IT WAS JANUARY second. The city was predictably cold and Taylor tightened his coat around him. Jude buttoned her purple coat and looked in both directions when they stepped outside. The awning protected them from the snow, but not the cold. Jude slipped on gloves, as did Taylor, and then she walked with the wind.

He was behind her, but double stepped until he caught up. Leaning his head down, he peeked at her. Her cheeks were rosy from the weather and snowflakes were clinging to her eyelashes, which she didn’t bother sweeping away. He asked, “Are we going anywhere in particular?”

Her eyes teemed with happiness. “The world is our rainbow, Hazel.”

He still had no idea how this girl’s mind worked, but he was too intrigued to end the adventure. “What does that even mean?”

She laughed as if nothing bothered her in life. She was fascinating to Taylor and he stared. He had never met anyone like her before, nor understood how her blithe behavior carried her through life. She smiled so widely that two dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Let’s find out together.” Then like the snow, she flurried away.

When he caught up to her again, he asked, “What’s your last name, Jude?”

She was an expert at avoiding what she didn’t want to address. “When that man shook your hand, he called you son. Are you his son or was that him trying to relate to you?”

“I’m his son. You don’t like to answer questions, do you?”

“I get bored with them. I’m asked questions all day long. How are you feeling? Will you venture outside today? Did you take your pills?” She turned to him. “See, boring. I get so sick of talking about myself all the time. Do you ever get bored of yourself?”