“Welcome.” Louisa greeted the newly arrived couple with a smile and nod, then checked their names off her guest list. The pen and clipboard in her hands saved her from handshakes. She’d worn a white silk poet blouse with a ruffled cuff that extended over her palms. Black dress slacks covered her bandaged knees, and Ferragamo ballet flats were a concession to her overall soreness. Concealer dimmed the bruise on her jaw. The overall effect was acceptable but more casual than she would have preferred for such an event.

On her right, April plucked two name tags from the small table and handed them to the couple.

April leaned close and turned her face away from the crowd. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a chair?”

“I’m sure.” Louisa shifted her weight to ease her aching knees. “Now that the initial crush seems to be over, I should move inside anyway.”

“Go ahead.” April took the clipboard. “I got this.”

Louisa followed the plaintive sound of a string quartet to the wide central corridor. Tuxedo-clad waitstaff circled, offering guests glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Curators and other museum staff mingled with the guests, encouraging conversation and answering questions. Louisa spotted a few university professors and board members, some of whom overlapped. Interns and some borrowed university students manned the long tables that displayed auction items on either side of the space. Louisa saw Isa selling raffle tickets. Technically, the museum wasn’t attached to the school, but the relationship was incestuous.

A dozen guests lined up at the bar in the corner. Louisa’s eyes roamed and nearly bugged out of their sockets when she spotted a clean-shaven, devastatingly handsome Conor mixing drinks behind the bar.

Oh. My. God.

What was he doing here? A fresh haircut sharpened his angular features. His broad shoulders filled out a classic black tuxedo that looked more than a cut above the rest of the waitstaff’s attire. Louisa took a deep breath. No one appeared to be giving him undue attention, except for the admiring second glances from female guests. As Xavier had pointed out Wednesday evening, the image of Conor circulated by the media wasn’t an accurate representation.

He caught her staring and pointedly looked away.

Right. She could hardly talk to him here. Louisa smoothed her features and walked in the opposite direction.