And she was furious with Jack. This move encapsulated everything she hated about him—keeping her in the dark, assuming he knew better, using his charm to get what he wanted, and trying to defuse justifiable anger with a grand gesture. Giving her something she actually wanted while yet again withholding the one thing he’d promised all those years ago: himself.
Drinks were drunk, food was eaten, speeches were made, funds were raised, and fun was seemingly had by all. Jack worked the room as usual, shaking hands and slapping backs, but remained attentive to the Yadaos, sitting with them during dinner, checking on their drinks, and circling back every so often to introduce them to someone you just have to meet. Though they didn’t strike Holly as social butterflies, they had to be enjoying the warm bath of attention and goodwill.
Brian worked just as hard but to different effect. Supervising the caterer and the volunteers, he seemed to be everywhere at once, making sure the party went off without a hitch. Holly wasn’t even sure whether he managed to eat dinner—she had managed only a few bites herself. From time to time he appeared at her side to update her on something or to pause silently and follow her gaze to wherever Jack was currently schmoozing.
“A bold move, bringing the Yadaos,” Brian said, catching up with her while Jack chatted up their state senator by the bar. “Did not expect that.”
“Me neither,” said Holly.
“My impression of Larry is that he’s not a guy who measures things in warm fuzzies. Also, his guard will be up now, which may screw up the end run I was trying to make around that easement.”
“Are you serious?” Holly asked, her stomach sinking.
He waved it away. “Hopefully, I’m wrong. How are you holding up?”
“I feel a little numb,” she confessed.
“It doesn’t show,” he said softly, his eyes warm. “You look beautiful and in control.”
“Thank you, Brian.”
She wanted so badly to embrace him. They parted reluctantly.
Finally, the night began to wind down. Guests trickled out in twos and fours as the jazz sextet eased into some smoky, slow ballads. Through the arched windows at the end of the room, Holly could see the snow had stopped and the night was still. Alone for a moment, her throat raw from constant talking, Holly went to the nearest bar and ordered a second glass of wine.
Then, as the waiter handed her the glass, she changed her mind.
“Make it a whiskey on the rocks,” she said, adding, “I’m sorry.”
Chuckling, the bartender set the wine aside. “No need to apologize—I’m not paying. Bourbon or Scotch?”
“Scotch,” she said, because Jack sometimes drank bourbon.
She carried her drink to a table at the edge of the room and sat down, watching as Brian and other volunteers began to gather the goods from the silent auction, which would be shipped later to spare the winners the awkwardness of carrying them home. The cater waiters were clearing coffee cups and dessert plates from tables, and only a few knots of people remained.
Jack appeared at her shoulder, nodded at the band, and asked, “May I have this dance?”
She shook her head, and after waiting a beat to confirm she meant it, he pulled out the chair next to hers and set his napkin-wrapped beer on the table.
“Whiskey’s new,” he said.
“Maybe it’s time to try new things,” she told him. “Are the Yadaos still here?”
“I tried to bring them over to say goodbye, but they were worried about missing their Uber.”
“How did it go?”
“Very well. I managed to introduce them to several people who would most likely be galloping past their house, and I could feel the goodwill in the room. I didn’t put the hard sell on them, of course, but I feel confident they’re going to withdraw their objection to the bridle path.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she said.
Holly sipped her whiskey. It was so strong it almost burned her mouth. But she wanted something that burned right now. She took a bigger drink and closed her eyes, concentrating on the taste.
When she opened them, Jack was looking at her intently. “I thought you’d be happier to hear this.”
“You’re having a relationship with Jessica Meyers,” Holly said flatly.
“Whoa, hold on—”
“You’re sharing an apartment in the city, and you went away together to Cancún,” she continued. “You brought your mistress to Chicago to work for you.”
“Holly, have you been drinking like this all night?” he asked, with a meaningful look at her glass.
“I’m sober. Don’t try to deflect.”
Jack shook his head. Then he took a deep breath, as if he were summoning some deep, inner reserve of strength and patience. “Yes, Holly, I brought Jessica to Chicago to work with me. Yes, I found her an apartment because Olivia had severe morning sickness and someone needed to do it. And yes, Jessica came to Cancún for the conference, but it’s all professional. It’s all for work.”
It amazed her that his first instinct was not to ask where she’d gotten her information. “You stopped going to Phoenix after she moved here.”
“Which is why I go to California now. The Phoenix partnerships are self-sustaining, and it was time to look for new opportunities for Cancura.”
“After you left me alone on New Year’s Eve, you went to see her.”
She was bluffing and had no proof but stated it with a certainty that clearly had him wondering how she knew.
Jack broke off eye contact and took a drink of beer. The bandleader announced that the next song would be the last of the night.
“I can see why you’d think these things,” he said, sighing heavily. “And it’s at least partly my fault. When I was recruiting her for Cancura, I guess she got the wrong idea. You know me, I try to be personable. She thought relocating to Chicago meant . . . something else. She’s obsessed with me, and I need to shut it down, but it’s hard
