Chapter 1 - The Woman Outside the Door
“From your charming reputation?” Mara repeated.
She glanced at the men behind him.
“Actually, from the expression on everyone else’s face.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Dominic Moretti smiled.
It was brief, almost reluctant, but it changed his face enough to explain why photographs never seemed to capture him properly.
“Where is your husband?”
“Inside.”
“And you?”
“Experiencing the weather.”
His gaze shifted toward the rain-darkened shoulders of her dress.
“By choice?”
Mara considered the familiar answer. Something pleasant. Something that would keep Grant comfortable and make her own humiliation seem accidental.
Instead, she said, “No.”
Dominic waited.
He did not fill the silence with advice or move closer as though proximity entitled him to an explanation.
That restraint unsettled her more than curiosity would have.
“My husband believes I would complicate his presentation,” she said.
“Are you planning to interrupt it?”
“Only intellectually.”
Another flicker of amusement crossed his face.
Then his attention dropped to the leather document sleeve tucked beneath her arm.
She had taken her annotated copy when she left the car. Habit, mostly. Eight years of anticipating what Grant would forget.
Dominic recognized the waterfront project’s cover.
“You worked on the proposal.”
“I wrote the community strategy.”
“Grant said his team developed it.”
“I imagine he did.”
Inside the entrance, a server appeared holding a tray of champagne. Dominic glanced toward the open doors, then back at her.
“Would you like to come inside?”
Mara looked at the marble steps.
A minute earlier, entering that building beside her husband had seemed like the most important thing in the world.
Now she understood how small that wish had become.
“Are you inviting me because you’re curious,” she asked, “or because you think I need rescuing?”
“Because I’m considering investing ten million dollars, and apparently one of the people who understands the project is standing beside a planter.”
That answer she could respect.
“Then yes.”
He stepped aside.
Not ahead.
The distinction was small enough that another woman might have missed it.
Mara did not.
A hostess hurried toward them when they entered. Her eyes widened at Mara’s wet hair, then settled immediately into professional warmth.
“Mrs. Bennett. May I take your coat?”
“I don’t have one.”
“We can bring a towel.”
“Thank you.”
Dominic asked an employee for a charger, then addressed Mara again.
“Would you prefer a few minutes somewhere quiet?”
“Yes.”
He indicated a small sitting room off the foyer.
Nobody followed her inside.
A woman from the staff brought towels, water, and a charging cable. Mara dried her hair with shaking hands.
In the mirror above the fireplace, she saw a woman whose lipstick remained intact despite everything.
The emerald dress still fit beautifully.
Her body had not changed in the last twenty minutes.
Only the story she was willing to tell about it had.
When she returned to the corridor, Dominic was speaking quietly with the club manager.
He ended the conversation.
“Ready?”
“One condition.”
He waited.
“If you ask me about the proposal, ask because you want an answer. I won’t be used to embarrass my husband.”
Dominic studied her.
“Even tonight?”
“Especially tonight. I can decide what happens to my marriage without becoming entertainment.”
He nodded.
“Agreed.”
They entered the ballroom together.
Grant stood near the center of the room beneath an arrangement of white roses, laughing with a woman in a silver gown.
He saw Dominic first.
His posture straightened.
Then he saw Mara.
The smile disappeared so completely that she wondered how she had spent eight years mistaking it for warmth.
“Mara.”
She stopped beside the table.
“Grant.”
His eyes moved between them.
“I thought you were waiting.”
“I was.”
Dominic accepted a folder from an assistant.
“Your wife tells me she developed the community strategy.”
Grant laughed.
Too quickly.
“Mara helped polish a few things.”
Mara watched his hand tighten around the folder she had built.
Dominic opened his copy.
“Excellent. Then perhaps she can explain something.”
He turned to a marked page.
“Why does your financial appendix promise vacant possession of buildings whose tenants were told they could remain?”
Mara went still.
She had never written that promise.
May you like
Across the table, Grant’s face changed.
And suddenly, the cruel conversation in the car was no longer the most dangerous thing happening that night.
