Naomi nodded her head to the side of the room, away from the crowd, and Clarke followed.

Wordlessly, Claire handed him her phone, Instagram already pulled up.

Clarke immediately went on high alert when he saw the account in question. @ScandalBoyNYC.

Alert turned to disbelief as he read, before finally settling on a deep and quiet anger.

He handed the phone back to Claire. “That bastard.”

“Who, Randy or Scandal Boy?” Naomi asked.

“I want to pummel both, but Randy’s first in line,” Clarke said. “He was married?”

“Apparently,” Claire said. “Even if Scandal Boy made it up, a rumor’s every bit as damaging as the truth.”

“Especially this rumor,” Naomi said. “It’s already all over that she was dating a married man. When people find out it happened twice…”

“They already have found out,” Claire said glumly, thumbing through Instagram. “It’s only been an hour, and already there are a thousand comments on Scandal Boy’s post. Even worse, they’ve started commenting on her most recent post.”

“What’s the gist?” Clarke asked.

Claire’s shoulders lifted. “About what you’d expect. Once a home wrecker, always a home wrecker. Find your own man.”

“But she has found her own man,” Naomi protested. “Or she has at least as far as they know.” She pointed at Clarke.

Claire kept reading the comments and gave a sad shake of her head. “Apparently they’re not buying it. Someone posted that at her ‘engagement party’—that’s in quotes—the so-called couple hasn’t spent so much as five minutes together or touched even once. Now everyone’s theorizing that you’re her damage control ‘beard,’ ” she told Clarke.

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” Naomi admitted, “but this also means that someone at this party is busy posting updates on Instagram.”

“Who!” Claire demanded, looking up and glaring around the room, her anger palpable.

“Could be anyone. Probably a few of them,” Clarke said, already thinking of a couple of catty attendees who’d always resented being the distant Plutos to Audrey’s sun. He could think of a couple more whom he’d dated over the years who liked to imagine it was Audrey’s fault that Clarke had dumped them.

“This is our fault,” Claire said, the distress in her voice clear. “We agreed to protect one another. She’s held her end up of the pact flawlessly for both of us, and we let this happen to her?”

“Simply suggesting Randy was a dud wasn’t enough,” Naomi said in glum agreement. “I knew there was something off about that guy. I should have handcuffed her to my side until that flea went to bother someone else.”

“No,” Clarke said. “You two have done plenty for her. I’ve got this one.”

“You already fake proposed,” Naomi pointed out. “I don’t know what else you can do.”