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Daniel nods, apparently satisfied.

“I’m going to find Julian before he disappears,” Daniel says.

“Blaire, I’ll catch you before you leave.”

“Of course,” I reply.

Daniel walks away.

I could kill him.

Ross and I are left standing beside one of the display cases with an entire reception moving around us. For several seconds, neither of us speaks. He is close enough now that I catch the familiar trace of his cologne.

My body reacts again, and irritation follows immediately. Seven years should be enough time for a scent to become meaningless. Apparently my nervous system disagrees.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ross says.

There is nothing casual in the way he looks at me.

“I was invited by Julian Mercer,” I reply.

“Harrington & Vale works with people in my professional circle.”

“I know,” he says.

Of course he does.

I lift my champagne glass slightly. “Then I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising.”

The faintest shift touches his mouth, but it never becomes a smile.

“No,” Ross says. “I suppose it shouldn’t.”

I refuse to fill the silence for him.

Ross studies me for another moment.

“How is San Francisco treating you?” he asks.

There it is.

The first question.

Harmless.

Professional enough.

My body reacts as if he has asked for a list of everyone who lives in my house.

“Very well,” I reply.

“The firm has grown significantly. Most of my work is private advisory now, although I still handle acquisitions and collection strategy.”

“I saw that you’re a partner.”

My pulse gives another hard beat.

“You saw that?” I ask.