Jasper.
Oh perfect. Had they all conspired to drive her insane tonight?
Jasper stood on the far side of the room, partly in shadow, but she had no doubt—he was looking right at her.
What was he doing here?
Her stomach clenched, but she didn’t look away. They stared at each other. Jasper didn’t move. From this distance his expression was unreadable.
She hadn’t helped organize the gala this year and had nothing to do with the guest list—otherwise she’d have excluded at least three people from it. Had Stella set her up?
She swallowed sharply and turned away. But the moment she took a breath, things worsened.
Frank had noticed her too.
His gaze ran over her as if he couldn’t believe she was here—out in public instead of locked at home having a breakdown. Or better yet, already checked into a psych clinic to deal with another“episode.”
He left Vivian’s side and walked toward her.
She slowly raised the glass to her lips, wet them, let a beat of silence hang, and when he reached her, she looked him right in the eye.
“Didn’t expect me, Frank?” she said first.
She smiled, watching his jaw tighten just slightly. He hesitated, but before he could say anything, another voice jumped into the conversation.
“Frank, and here you said she was struggling with the divorce…”
She turned.
Rowan Blake — an old family friend they’d barely seen in the past six months.
“And look at her now,” he added with a slow shake of his head.“Did I finally get my chance to officially flirt with Nina?”
She smiled as if his compliments flattered her. But inside she understood perfectly well: Frank had already spread plenty of rumors among their circle.
“Rowan, good to see you,” she said gently.“I’m notthat free yet—once I get the official divorce papers…” She laughed hoarsely and winked at him.
“You’re drunk,” Frank snapped, misreading her playful tone.
He stepped forward, reaching for her arm—almost certainly planning to drag her off somewhere. But she dodged smoothly, set her champagne flute on the table, and picked up another grape.
“I’m just happy, Frank. That’s what’s making me dizzy. Not the alcohol. You know very well I can’t stand the stuff.”
She caught Rowan smiling at her with open interest. He’d always been like that. He’d liked her years ago.
He’d flirted, but she’d never encouraged it. She’d been loyal to her husband.
And now everything was different.
Rowan sensed the shift, and he wasn’t planning to waste his opportunity. Frank saw it too—and for some reason, it irritated him.
“I told you you weren’t ready for social events,” Frank said at last.“Not after the treatment.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Smirked.
“I didn’t suffer a scratch inthat accident; your doctor said so himself,” she countered, twisting his words to her advantage. She wouldn’t let him expose that she’d been locked in a psychiatric clinic.
Rowan laughed.
