“Oh. I thought Evan would’ve mentioned it by now.”
My stomach tightened.
“Mentioned what?”
“Grant Holloway’s annual summer party. Apparently his property is insane. Private dock, pool, live band, the whole thing.”
Grant Holloway.
Evan’s CEO.
I had heard the name hundreds of times but had never met the man.
Jenna continued talking.
“Spouses are invited. Actually, practically everyone brings someone. Mark has been talking about the barbecue for two weeks.”
I forced myself to smile.
“When is it?”
“Saturday. Six-thirty.”
“That sounds fun.”
“You should definitely come.”
“I’ll ask Evan tonight.”
She waved as her daughter came running down the sidewalk.
I stood there after she left, Sophie’s purple backpack hanging from my hand.
The strange thing wasn’t that Evan had forgotten to mention the party.
The strange thing was that three nights earlier, when I’d asked if we could do something together that weekend, he had told me Saturday would probably be impossible because of “end-of-quarter chaos.”
Maybe he’d simply forgotten.
That was what I told myself on the drive home.
By six, dinner was ready.
Sophie was telling us about a science project while Evan typed something beneath the table.
I waited until she left to wash her hands.
Then I said, lightly, “I ran into Jenna today.”
Evan’s thumb stopped moving.
“Jenna who?”
“Walsh. From accounting.”
“Oh.”
“She mentioned Grant Holloway’s summer party.”
The silence lasted less than two seconds.
It was still long enough.
Then Evan reached for his water.
