“I think maybe you should sit down,” Kathy said, frowning at where Lila was crushing the silk of her suit. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

On the contrary, it was no ghost that had caught Lila’s eye. That flash of white coming from the opposite side of the room was blinding enough to be supernatural, but Lila had never believed in that sort of thing. Ghosts weren’t real and bogeymen were make-believe, but a smile as toothy and brilliant as her ex-boyfriend’s had caused her plenty of sleepless nights.

“The kitchen?” Lila asked, mostly to herself. “No, I’ll never make it that far. It’ll have to be the emergency exit.”

She knew she was babbling, but she could no more stop the words from leaving her mouth than she could still the sudden thumping of her heart. Patrick Yarmouth. Of all the men to saunter through the door looking as though he’d dropped in straight out of a toothpaste ad, it had to be him.

She could brazen this dress out for the sake of her company, Puppy Promise. She could smile and sparkle for as long as it took to woo the people who had the power to take that company to the next level.

But she could not, would not, dared not risk exposing herself to the man who’d accused her of perfection like it was a four-letter word. Especially since he hadn’t spotted her yet. There’s still time to make my escape.

“I’m sorry, Kathy,” she said as she lifted her skirts and headed for the bright red exit sign. “I have to leave.”

“Does this mean you aren’t going to tell me where you got the dress?” Kathy called, watching her go. “My daughter will be so disappointed.”

“I’ll email you the details tomorrow,” Lila promised as she pushed through the door to safety. Better yet, she thought as she navigated the steep flight of steps leading down, I’ll shove the dress in a box and mail it to you.

After tonight, there was nothing on earth that could induce her to wear sparkles again.

* * *

It was only cowardice if she hid behind the potted plant.

“I’m standing next to it,” Lila said to no one in particular, if only because there was no one in particular to say it to. She’d escaped the emergency stairwell to find herself on some kind of first-floor landing. It offered a fountain and a ficus and a complete absence of other people—all three of which were serving to calm her rattled nerves. “I’m taking a break, that’s all. Getting away from all those dark suits and demure gowns. I’ll be back to my usual, capable self in a few minutes, and then I’ll be able to face him.”