Juliet made sure not to look at Arwen and arranged her face in what she hoped was a pleasant expression. “I’m an architect, first and foremost, but I also manage projects.” Arwen hadn’t mentioned what she did? Who she was? She didn’t say, My boss is having a party and we have to go? “I’m Arwen’s boss,” she continued. “I oversee all her work, and the work of four other architects at DJK.” She smiled (hopefully) and tipped her head against Oliver’s shoulder. “Please enjoy yourselves, ladies. There’s a deck on the roof. That spiral staircase in the corner will take you right up, and the view is gorgeous.”

They went off, hand in hand. Juliet thought she heard the words so nineties, but she couldn’t be sure.

“They’re rather nice,” Oliver said.

Her head snapped around to look at him. “Nice?”

“Aren’t they?”

Of course she couldn’t tell him. Not here, not now. Maybe not ever. “I need a drink.”

“Sure thing. What would you like? And just a word of caution, love . . .” He lowered his voice. “Try not to overdo it tonight.”

“Jesus, Oliver.”

“Just putting it out there. I’ll get it for you. Chardonnay?”

“I’ll get it myself.” She loved chardonnay. She loved cosmos, too, but they were so cliché now, so middle-aged. She even liked appletinis, goddamnit. She went out onto the deck, where one of the two bars was set up. “I’ll have a glass of rosé,” she told the bartender, hating herself. But she didn’t dare look any more outdated than she already felt.

“Sweetheart!” Her mother extricated herself from a knot of people and came over, patting her cheek. “What a triumph this is! You’ve outdone yourself, and I know I say that every year, but that’s because every year, it’s true.”

Finally, a true ally. “Hi, Mommy. Hi, Caro. Did you bring Ted?”

“Ted and I are on the rocks,” Caro said, grinning. “You can see I’m really broken up about it.”

“Oh! Um . . . well, I’m glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!”