Chapter 7 - THE PARTY

Saturday arrived under snow. By six o’clock, Whitmore House glowed with hundreds of candles. White roses climbed the ballroom columns. A string quartet played beneath the balcony.

Three hundred guests arrived in black cars while photographers waited beyond the gates. Vanessa looked perfect. That was the point. Her diamonds were borrowed from a Fifth Avenue jeweler.

Every detail said future Mrs. Ethan Whitmore. Naomi stayed near the service corridors. At seven-thirty, Ethan found her arranging champagne glasses.

“You okay?” “Working.” “That wasn’t the question.” Naomi gave him a tired smile. “I’ll be fine.” He lowered his voice. “I’m ending the engagement after tonight.” Naomi stopped. “I’m sorry.” “Tell her privately tomorrow.” He nodded.

From across the ballroom, Vanessa saw them talking. She could not hear a word. She did not need to. Her mother approached.

“Why?” “Because fifty people are photographing you.” Vanessa lifted her champagne. “I’m going to fix something.” Celeste grabbed her wrist. “No.” Vanessa pulled free. “You don’t even know what I mean.” “Yes, I do.” For once, Celeste sounded afraid.

“The scene already exists.” She crossed the ballroom. Naomi saw her coming. So did Ethan. Vanessa stopped beside a passing server and deliberately knocked a tray toward Naomi.

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A few guests clapped. Vanessa’s smile vanished. “You think that’s funny?” “No.” “You think you can embarrass me in my own house?” Naomi set the tray down. “This isn’t your house.” The room seemed to inhale.

Vanessa stepped forward. “What did you say?” Naomi knew immediately she had made a mistake. Not because the sentence was false. Because Vanessa had been waiting all night for permission to explode.