tuxedos. Alice was striking in a black satin dress with geometric cutouts that bared large triangles of her snowy white skin. And Rosalie was... well, Rosalie. She was beyond belief. Her vivid scarlet dress was backless, tight to her calves where it flared into a wide ruffled train, with a neckline that plunged to her waist. I pitied every girl in the room, myself included. "Do you want me to bolt the doors so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?" I whispered conspiratorially. "And where do you fit into that scheme?" He glared. "Oh, I'm with the vampires, of course." He smiled reluctantly. "Anything to get out of dancing." "Anything." He bought our tickets, then turned me toward the dance floor. I cringed against his arm and dragged my feet. "I've got all night," he warned. Eventually he towed me out to where his family was twirling elegantly -- if in a style totally unsuitable to the present time and music. I watched in horror. "Edward
and warm. Vincent reserved the trick of seeming to argue against his own interests for large parties of 8 to 12 people. His technique was veined with genius. When it was time for the first person, normally a woman, to order, he went into his act. No mat- ter what she elected, Vincent reacted identically: His brow furrowed, his hand hov- ered above his order pad, and after looking quickly over his shoulder for the manager, he leaned conspiratorially toward the table to report for all to hear "I'm afraid that is not as good tonight as it normally is. Might I recommend instead the _ or the _?" (At this point, Vincent suggested a pair of menu items that were slightly less expensive than the dish the patron had selected initially.) "They are both excellent tonight." With this single maneuver, Vincent engaged several important principles of influence
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