“Then go watch your daughter cut her cake.”
His jaw tightened.
“She’s your sister.”
“I know.”
“Then stop acting like this night is about you.”
I looked around.
People were pretending not to watch.
“I’m not the one holding the microphone.”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
I knew that look.
It meant I had embarrassed him.
Dad stepped closer.
“You have spent your entire life being too sensitive.”
“Good night, Dad.”
I turned.
His hand moved.
Cold liquid struck my shoulder.
Then came the smell of red wine.
The ballroom went quiet.
I looked down at my dress.
Dad was still holding the empty glass.
“There,” he said. “Now you actually have something to be upset about.”
I took out my phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“My husband.”
He stared at me.
Mom finally walked over.
“Your what?”
I called Ethan.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“Lobby.”
I looked at my father.
“Come upstairs.”
The Man in the Lobby
Ethan arrived less than two minutes later.
I knew the exact moment people began recognizing him.
It started near the ballroom doors.
Two men stopped talking.
Then Preston’s father, Charles Whitmore, stood so quickly that his chair moved backward.
His wife caught his arm.
Ethan didn’t look at them.
He saw me.
Then he saw my dress.
He crossed the ballroom without saying anything.
“What happened?”
I glanced at Dad.
“Wine.”
Ethan took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders.
“Are you okay, honey?”
The word honey traveled through the room more effectively than an announcement could have.
My mother stared at us.
“Evelyn?”
Ethan looked at her.
“Mrs. Carter.”
Dad frowned.
“Do we know you?”
Before I could answer, Charles Whitmore appeared beside us.
His expression was completely different now.
“Mr. Brooks.”
My father looked from Charles to Ethan.
“You know him?”
Charles hesitated.
“Of course I know him.”
Preston had joined us.
He looked pale.
Ethan put one hand lightly against my back.
Dad pointed between us.
“What exactly is going on?”
I answered.
“Ethan is my husband.”
Mom’s mouth opened.
Chloe had come down from the head table.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Two years ago.”
Dad stared at me.
“You got married without telling us?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I looked at the empty wine glass still in his hand.
Nobody said anything.
Dad slowly placed it on a nearby table.
For once, I didn’t have to explain.
The Meeting the Whitmores Had Been Waiting For
Charles cleared his throat.
“Ethan, perhaps this isn’t the right moment, but since you’re here—”
Ethan looked at him.
Charles stopped.
I knew enough about the Whitmore family to understand why he was nervous.
Whitmore Industrial had been a respected manufacturing company for decades.
Recently, it had been struggling.
What I hadn’t known until a few weeks earlier was how serious the situation had become.
Ethan’s company had been considering a strategic investment.
Roughly $90 million in debt and other obligations were involved.
It wasn’t a rescue in the dramatic sense.
It was business.
A complicated one.
Charles tried again.
“We’ve been hoping to get that meeting on the calendar.”
“I know.”
“Our teams have been talking.”
“They have.”
Preston looked at Chloe.
Chloe looked at me.
Then Charles noticed the wine stain beneath Ethan’s jacket.
His eyes went to my father.
“What happened here?”
Nobody answered.
That silence told him enough.
Charles straightened his tie.
“Richard, perhaps we should all sit down.”
I almost laughed.
Five minutes earlier, nobody had needed to sit down.
Ethan looked at Charles.
“I don’t think that meeting is necessary anymore.”
Charles went still.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not approving the investment.”
Preston stepped forward.
“Because of Evelyn?”
“No.”
Ethan’s voice remained calm.
“Because I watched this room change the second people recognized me.”
Nobody interrupted him.
“Whatever happened before I walked through those doors apparently wasn’t serious enough for anyone to intervene.”
His eyes moved briefly toward my dress.
“Now suddenly everybody’s concerned.”
Charles lowered his voice.
“This is a family matter.”
“Exactly.”
Ethan took my hand.
