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Ethan couldn't pry his eyes away from her. The woman who’d arrived late had locked her gaze as if she’d recognized him. But that was impossible, because he was certain he’d never seen her in his life. Besides Joyce, he didn't know anyone else here.

The yacht cut through the water toward Mercer Island, rocking back and forth on the choppier-than-normal waves. He was one step closer to this stupid night being over.

All he could think about was Evie and slogging through the mess he seemed to have found himself in.

Finding out what the hell was going on between them and making sure she was okay was the only thing that mattered right now.

Ethan pressed his back against the railing and let out a deep sigh. The bubbles in his champagne glass had long gone flat, but everyone around him seemed to be having a blast.

Laughter echoed into the air as guests danced and drank, their voices carrying across the deck in waves.

Joyce elbowed Ethan’s side, and he jolted forward. Champagne sloshed over the rim of her glass, spilling out onto the deck. “Woopsie!” she cried, grinning back at him with glassy eyes.

At least one of us is having fun, I thought.

Joyce had been hitting the open bar hard, and honestly, he couldn't blame her. He would too, but the wave of nausea he’d been fighting since they’d set sail made alcohol the last thing he wanted.

Am I sea-sick? Great.

Ethan was only half-listening to Joyce’s story about how someone had been caught fucking in the executive conference room last week, his mind being tugged elsewhere.

Absently, his gaze continued to pull itself toward the woman in black. He was positive he didn’t know her, yet he found himself searching for a thread to trigger a memory that seemed just out of reach. Like when you pass a stranger on the street and have to double-take, thinking you know them.

“Ethan?” Joyce asked, her words only slightly slurred. “Hello? Ya’ drunk already? Lightweights, I tell ya what.”

Ethan shook his head and looked back at Joyce. “Sorry, what?”

Joyce took a look over at the bar and grinned. “Ya’ gonna just stare at her all night, or actually go up and talk to her?”

He shook his head. “I’m not staring,” he said, turning back toward the water. “Trust me…that’s the last thing on my mind.”

Joyce took a big sip from her glass, lipstick smearing across the rim. “Honey, I’ve known ya’ awhile now to know when you’re full of it.”

Ethan shrugged, tilting his head back toward the bar, despite himself. He watched as the woman in black leaned against the bartop, poised and elegant. Preston was right next to her with that slimy grin on his face.

He’s such a creep, he thought, his chest tightening.

The woman at the bar flashed a practiced smile, and whether it was the twinkling amber lights playing with her features, or he was so fucked up over her he was seeing her in strangers, it reminded him of Evie.

A cough tore through him, sharp and painful, and he doubled over, unable to control it. Ethan’s lungs burned like he’d choked on his own spit or water.

Joyce put her hand on his shoulder. “You okay, honey?” She pushed her glasses up. “Yeesh, ya’ look pale.”

“I’m fine,” Ethan coughed, clearing his throat.

I’m definitely not fine.

Joyce shrugged. “Whatever you say, kiddo,” she said, shuffling off for another round of office reconnaissance.

As the night went on, the party swelled around Ethan, with dusk finally settling in. Only a sliver of sun remained, painting the water with golden streaks. The string lights above them cast a warm glow across the deck.

The guests had gotten even louder, especially with the alcohol flowing from the open bar. Someone had turned up the music, and the quiet hum of Jazz now boomed with the raucous energy of clinking glasses and privileged conversations.

Ethan stole a glance back at the bar.

Preston was obnoxiously leaning into the woman, too close. He clearly didn't give a shit about personal space. God, he was even worse outside the office. I didn’t even think that was possible, he thought.

He couldn't see her face, but her body had gone rigid as Preston’s hand slid to her lower back, and Ethan’s jaw tightened at the gross nature of it.