So much for an intimate dinner.

Victoria had relented at the last minute and, at Allie’s urging, extended invitations to the entire Better Start staff. They’d spent countless hours ensuring the event’s success and deserved a show of appreciation far more than someone who simply lent their name to the program. Of course Allie knew they would have never exceeded their goal without one very generous donation pledged in exchange for a dance.

Her heart sank as she pushed through one of the many French doors spanning the rear of the house, and in a moment of clarity she realized why. It wasn’t because she was dreading the customary small talk with board members or her mother’s constant attempts to work Julian and the wedding into every conversation. It was because she already knew the person most deserving of thanks, the one whose face she suddenly longed to see, would be nowhere in sight.

Allie walked to the edge of the terrace and leaned against the stone balustrade. The grounds of the estate were still in full bloom thanks to the unseasonably warm weather, and the sweet scent of jasmine hung in the air. Copper lanterns lined the stone steps, their flickering candlelight leading to an expanse of perfectly manicured grass. In the distance, Allie could make out the silvery shores of Lake Michigan just beyond the esplanade. She took a deep breath. Watching the water ebb and flow usually soothed her, especially on nights like this when her mother was in high gear. But as the small whitecaps crashed on the sand, she couldn’t help but wish she was enjoying the view of the lake from Hudson’s penthouse.

She needed to get a grip. It was only one night. But if this was how she felt spending one night without Hudson Chase, how would she ever endure a lifetime?

“I have to hand it to Vicky, she certainly knows how to throw a party.” Harper was suddenly behind her. She was wearing a tailored floral sheath dress that would have surely caught Don Draper’s eye, and from the looks of it, had just relieved a waiter of several salmon crostini. “Find out what caterer she used and let’s call them for our next event.”

“Food’s that good?”

“No, the waiters are that hot.”

Allie laughed at her friend’s ability to see every situation as her own personal version of match.com. “I thought you were planning to marry the waiter at Tavern.”

“Found out he was still in college,” Harper mumbled as she crammed an hors d’oeuvre in her mouth. “I’m all for dating younger men, but I have to draw the line somewhere.” Allie could practically see the lightbulb turn on over her head. “Hey, Mr. Moneybags doesn’t happen to have a younger brother, does he?”

“Harper!” Allie checked to see if anyone was in earshot.

“Oh relax. No one knows which Mr. Moneybags I meant. Look around,” she said with a snort. “The place is crawling with them.” Harper grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “You can’t keep dodging me. Sooner or later I’m getting the scoop,” she said before taking a sip.

“I haven’t been dodging you.”

“Please, for the past two days every time I’ve come near your office you’ve either been conveniently on the phone or dashing out the door to some mysterious meeting.”

Allie didn’t mean to hurt her friend’s feelings. But how could she explain her roller coaster of emotions when she didn’t understand them yet herself? She was about to assure Harper it was nothing personal when she heard someone call her name. The unmistakable voice sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. Oh great.

Allie and Harper turned as one to find Hillary Prescott, heir to the country club throne.

“There you are! Your mother told me you’d be here.” She greeted Allie with an air kiss to each cheek. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Well here I am.” Trapped. Allie caught sight of Harper smiling over the top of her champagne glass as she drifted away.

Hillary reached for Allie’s left hand. “Let me see that ring your mom keeps bragging about.” She cursed under her breath and yanked the ring closer. “So you’re really marrying a duke?”

Allie would have corrected her former classmate if she’d given her half a chance.

“How are the plans coming? It must be horrible trying to balance wedding planning with a full-time job. No wonder you look so exhausted.” She lowered her voice. “I have a face guy who works miracles. Call me and I’ll give you his number.”

“Thanks, but—”

“Oh my God, that reminds me. Have you seen Meredith since she got back from the spa?” Hillary emphasized the last word with a harsh laugh. “Right, a spa that doubled her cup size.”

“How was your game this summer?” Allie asked, desperate to change the subject. A smile spread across Hillary’s face. “Club champion again this year. You know, if we team up next summer, I bet I could take the doubles title, too.”

“Oh thanks, but with work I couldn’t—”

“Work?” Hillary grimaced as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. “After the wedding? I just assumed—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Allie said, a smile plastered across her face. “But I see my boss and there’s something I really need to discuss with him.”

“Oh, sure. Call me, we’ll do lunch.”

As she walked away, Allie almost felt bad for lying. Almost. And besides, it wasn’t a total lie. She had seen her boss. He was standing off to the side shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking as uncomfortable on her mother’s terrace as he had at the museum gala. Bob Ellis was a man committed to seeing underprivileged kids get the education they deserved, and as the director of Better Start, he knew that fund-raising was essential. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. In fact, he once told Allie that even after decades of working for nonprofits, he’d still rather have a root canal than talk a prospective donor into parting with their cash. When Allie came onboard as the head of fund-raising, he’d welcomed her to the team with open arms.

He smiled as she approached, his warm brown eyes crinkling around the edges. “Now there’s a familiar face.” For a moment he looked as though he might try to extend his hand, awkwardly juggling a small china plate and a glass drained to only ice. Allie came to his rescue by way of launching into conversation.

“Did you try the beef Wellington?” she asked. “Harper was raving about the caterers.”

“Wonderful. Everything is just wonderful. And very kind of your mother to invite the entire staff.” A waiter passed by with an empty tray and her boss handed him his plate and glass. Realizing too late that he still had his napkin, he crumpled it and shoved it into the pocket of his khaki pants. “The gala was a lot of work. You should be very proud of how well it turned out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ellis.”

“You’ve done a terrific job, Alessandra. And not just with the gala. We’re certainly going to miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“Yes, your mother said you wouldn’t be returning after the wedding. At least not on a daily basis.” He tugged on the knot of his knit tie, loosening it ever so slightly. “I must say, I was sad to hear it.”

Allie’s face flamed. Overruling her on wedding details was one thing. Allie couldn’t care less what flowers were in the centerpieces or if the ballroom chairs were covered in silk. But tendering her resignation? That was a step too far, even for Victoria. “Will you excuse me, Mr. Ellis? I just remembered my mother asked me to check on the wine. Can’t have the caterers running low, now can we?”

She tried to mask her anger with the same saccharine smile she’d used on Hillary. She’d had a lifetime to perfect the expression and yet struggled to keep the facade in place as she weaved through the crowd in search of her mother. She found her chatting with one of the ladies from the club—Hillary Prescott’s mother, to be exact—her delicate laughter barely audible above the quartet.