He nods, watching as I slide the gold bangle around my wrist and clasp it. It complements my dress really well.

I’m not sure what to do with the jewelry box, but the car rolls forward, so I don’t have long to figure it out. My coat has pockets, too, so I shove the jewelry box into an inside pocket and pull it on.

It feels like we’re at a Hollywood premiere when the driver gets out and opens the door for us. My tummy flutters when Lee follows me out, then places a hand at the small of my back to lead me inside.

This is far from a small party, so I’m a little overwhelmed by all the people as we enter the mansion and check our coats.

Once we check our coats, we head through the elegant marble-floored lobby and into a hall lined with trees. Bare trees, wrapped in lights. I peek into a room with with white twinkle lights forming a forest, with “snowbanks” and snow-dusted topiaries. There’s a pathway through the middle of the room, but we don’t take it, following the main hall down to the ballroom.

The ballroom is even grander. An opulent two-story hall with vaulted ceilings and garlands hung from the railings on the top floor. Beautifully decorated Christmas trees are placed all around the room, and there are so many poinsettias. One huge Christmas tree, lit up and practically gilded, is the main attraction.

The room is enormous, so it seems to be a popular gathering place. It’s packed full of guests chattering and admiring the beauty all around. Servers circulate with trays of champagne.

Lee grabs two glasses from a nearby waiter and passes one to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur, but I’m too busy looking around to take a drink.

He isn’t. He takes a sip, his gaze wandering around the room, too, but it’s not the décor he’s preoccupied with. “There are several people here I need to speak with tonight,” he tells me. “I see Foster now, but I don’t see his date. Let’s do a round so I can see who else is here, then we’ll start mingling.”

We make our way around the room and Lee sees a couple more people he needs to speak with. When the first one frees up, he offers a smile and starts to approach.

In a low murmur, he tells me, “I don’t see his date. If she doesn’t come over here in a minute or so, make an excuse so we can talk alone. I’ll find you later.”

“Oh. All right,” I murmur, trying not to feel too disappointed.

I knew it wasn’t a date. I knew he would have to talk shop from time to time.