Chapter 8: Ingrid's Luncheon

Ingrid stepped out of the elevator and let the doors close behind her.

"The Women's Board luncheon is in the atrium at noon," she said. "Two hundred guests. Marissa is receiving our volunteer award."

"Marissa volunteers?" Shane said.

"She reads to children in the cancer ward. Every other Saturday."

She turned to me.

"You'll be there. You'll stand up, and you'll apologize to her in front of everyone. For the gala, for the office, for what you've put her through."

"And if I don't?"

Ingrid tapped the clipboard against Shane's chest.

"Then Thursday goes very badly for him."

She walked off down the hallway, her heels clicking on the tile.

Shane looked at me.

"Don't," he said. "Don't you dare do that for me."

"I'm not going to apologize."

"Then don't go."

"I'm going."

The atrium had a glass roof and round tables with white cloths and peonies.

Poppy slept in the carrier, full for the first time in weeks.

I stood at the back and waited.

Ingrid saw me from the podium and smiled.

She tapped the microphone.

"Before we give out our award, I believe Dalton's wife has something to say."

Two hundred women in spring dresses turned in their chairs.

A lot of them had seen the photo. I could see it in their faces.

I walked down the aisle between the tables.

Ingrid held out the microphone to me with two fingers.

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