Chapter 17: The Wedding Guest

The Calloway ballroom looked exactly the same, down to the chandelier and the screen over the stage.

Only the flowers had changed. They were white now, in tall glass vases, and they smelled of money.

I walked in on Rocco's arm in an emerald dress, with a swallow on my shoulder blade that anyone could see.

Four hundred people turned around.

Half of them had been at the gala. They knew my face, and they had learned my name.

Margot reached us first, in a white gown and a long veil, with her hands held out.

"Livia. You came." She kissed the air beside my cheek. "I'm so glad. Thurston is dying to talk to you."

"Is he?"

"He wants to put everything right."

Thurston stood by the dance floor in a gray morning coat, with a plum-colored bruise fading around his left eye.

He smiled at me too widely.

His eyes went to Rocco and came off him fast.

"Livia," he said. "You look wonderful."

"I know."

"I owe you an apology. Properly. Would you say a few words? Margot thought it would show everyone that we're all friends."

"Did she?"

"After the toasts. We'd be honored."

I looked at Margot, who was smiling at the floor.

I looked at Rocco, who inclined his head one quarter of an inch.

"I'd love to," I said.

They gave me the microphone after the best man's speech.

It was the same black microphone, on the same stand, at the foot of the same stage.

I walked up the same three steps.

The room went quiet in a ripple, table by table, as they remembered where they had seen me last.

"Good evening," I said. "Congratulations to the bride and groom."

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