“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.
“Mother,” Allie interrupted, not caring if she’d think her rude.
“Oh, Alessandra, perfect timing. I was just telling Elizabeth all about the wedding plans.”
“Your mother tells me you’ve moved the wedding up to the beginning of December.” Allie watched as Mrs. Prescott’s gaze swept over her, tensing when it lingered a bit too long on her stomach. “It sounds like it will be lovely, dear. Late enough for the decorations to be up but still plenty of time before we all flee the dreadful cold on holiday.”
Victoria nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly what I was telling her. The lights on Michigan Avenue are beautiful that time of year, and wouldn’t it be perfect if the park in front of the hotel had a fresh blanket of snow?”
Allie gaped at the two women as they discussed how much snow they’d like to see—enough to cover the grass, but not freeze the lake—and when they’d like it to fall—so enough time has passed to clear the roads, but not so long that it turns black at the curb. When she could take no more, she cut them off with a crisis sure to attract her mother’s undivided attention. “The caterer needs to speak with you, Mother. Something about a substitution on the brand of caviar.”
Her mother sighed. “Honestly, if it isn’t one thing it’s another.”
“Always something,” Mrs. Prescott said. She brushed cheeks with Victoria before joining another group of women.
“Did he say what brand, because I specifically ordered—”
“Relax mother, there’s no caviar emergency.”
She looked utterly confused.
“Did you tell Mr. Ellis I was resigning after the wedding?”
If it weren’t for the recent injections, Victoria’s eyebrows would have shot up in surprise. “That’s what all this is about?”
“You had no right to speak on my behalf,” Allie snapped.
Victoria turned to ice. “Watch your tone.” Her voice was much louder than Allie expected, but she regained her composure quickly. The smile returned to her face, and when she spoke again her tone was hushed, though just as lethal. “I’m your mother. I will not have you speaking to me in that manner.” Taking Allie by the arm, she led her away from the crowd. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to tell Bob about your plans. The subject came up and I mentioned it. Simple as that.”
The last line was said with complete finality. Allie knew from past experience her mother considered the conversation over, but she was far from done discussing the matter. “I haven’t decided what—”
The sound of Allie’s cell phone stopped her midsentence.
Victoria’s face lit up. “Oh, is that Julian? Be sure to tell him how much he’s missed this evening.”
The screen read “private caller,” but Allie seriously doubted the call was from Julian. Other then the message he’d left on her answering machine, she hadn’t heard from him since he arrived in Paris. “Hello?”
“Excuse yourself.” The sound of Hudson’s deep voice sent a chill down her spine.
“I . . . um,” Allie’s eyes darted to her mother. “I’ll need to call you back later.”
Victoria tsked. “It’s late in Paris. Talk to the man.”
“Tell whomever you’re with that you need to take this call,” he instructed. “Move to some place private.”
Allie waited until her mother drifted out of earshot. “Can we discuss this after the party?”
“No.”
“Hudson, I can’t—”
“I’m not a patient man, Alessandra. Don’t keep me waiting.”
She turned away from the crowd and lowered her voice. “There are people everywhere. Where exactly do you suggest I go?”