The gala in Bishop’s Landing will be extravagant and festive, something I know Georgia will enjoy immensely. It’s a black-tie affair, so I even found time to buy her a dress and shoes to wear to the glamorous event. My lips curve up at the thought of giving them to her.

“Um, which night?” she asks.

“Saturday.”

Her lovely face etched with regret confuses the hell out of me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s about to say no.

Then she does.

“I… wish I could, Lee, but I can’t,” she says regretfully.

Stunned, I simply stare at her. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and looks back down at her phone, as if maybe it will change. “I have plans. I totally forgot that was this weekend. I’m going to see The Nutcracker Saturday night.”

“By yourself?”

“No.”

“With a girlfriend? Surely you can reschedule.”

Her cheeks turn an even rosier shade and she avoids my gaze.

Dread slides into my stomach. “You have a date.”

“Yes. If we were doing something else, I could reschedule, but not this. He bought us front seat loge tickets at a sold-out show, and the cost alone… I can’t cancel. I’m sorry.”

Regret glints in her big green eyes as she looks at me.

She’s serious.

She’s really telling me no and going on a date with someone else instead.

When I was married, there wasn’t much I could say about it when she went out with other men. I suppose there still isn’t, but I have to clench my jaw to keep in what I want to say.

I’ll be damned if I let her miss the gala with me to go out with someone she won’t even remember this time next year.

“What’s his name?”

She drops my gaze and begins awkwardly fidgeting with her purse strap. “Nathan.”

“Nathan what?”

My tone was terser than I intended. Her eyebrows knit together and she glances up at me. “That’s an odd question.”

“I know several Nathans.”

She rolls her eyes at me, but there’s a faint smile on her face. “It’s no one you know.”

Tension gathers in my shoulders. Ignoring it and my instinct to keep pushing given her apparent reluctance to share, I let her think I’m letting it go. “All right. Well, I hope you enjoy the show.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs, looking down at the toe of her shoe as she absently flexes her foot and avoids my gaze. “I’ve always wanted to see it, so I’m sure I will.”

*     *     *

Since I rely on Georgia for pretty much everything, I have to get a little creative when it comes to thwarting her date. I can’t very well ask her for the information I want—I already tried that and she wouldn’t tell me.