Chapter 10: Friday

On Friday we went to the real estate council luncheon at a hotel on Park Avenue, because Preston was the keynote speaker.

Maxwell had said it would be good for people to see us.

"See us do what?" I'd asked.

"Not leave."

The ballroom held four hundred people at round tables with white cloths and chicken in cream sauce.

I wore a black dress I'd borrowed from my grandmother's closet and had taken in with a safety pin.

The man beside me was a banker who had financed two of Preston's buildings. He knew my name and my face from the morning show.

"Ms. Heathcote," he said. "I hope you'll understand if we pause the next draw until the review is done."

"I'd have done the same," I said.

He looked startled, and then he smiled at me properly.

Preston spoke for twenty minutes without once looking at our table.

He was very good.

He talked about trust and family and the long game, and the applause at the end was real.

Brooke wasn't there. Nobody mentioned her.

Maxwell's hand found the small of my back as the room stood to clap.

I hadn't been touched there in a long time, and it went through me all at once.

I kept clapping.

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