The Reeses’ beach house was in sight and Mitch looked longingly toward it, but he pulled off the highway and turned to face Shay directly. “I was asking about your mother,” he said.

Shay had been braced for a lie and now, in the face of a blunt truth, she didn’t know how to react. “Why?” she asked after several moments of silence.

“I don’t think this is a good time to talk, Shay,” Mitch replied. “Anyway, it isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

“But—”

His hand closed, warm and reassuring, over hers. “Trust me, okay? I promise that we’ll talk after the party.”

Mitch had been forthright; he could have lied about his reason for visiting Seaview, but he hadn’t. Shay had no cause to distrust him. And yet the words “trust me” troubled her; it didn’t matter that Mitch had spoken them: she heard them in Eliott’s voice. “After the party,” she said tightly.

Moments later she and Mitch entered the Reeses’ spacious two-story beach house. It was a beautiful place with polished oak floors and beamed ceilings and a massive stone fireplace, and it was crowded with people.

Marvin took one look at Shay’s shiny shirt and bounded away, only to return moments later wearing a pair of grossly oversized sunglasses that he’d used in a past commercial. Shay laughed and shook her head.

“I hope his tie doesn’t squirt grape juice,” Mitch commented in a discreet whisper.

Shay watched fondly as Marvin turned away to rejoin the party. “Don’t let him fool you,” she replied. “He reads Proust and Milton and speaks two languages other than English.”

Mitch was still pondering this enlightening information—Marvin’s commercials and loud sports jackets were indeed deceptive—when Ivy wended her way through the crowd, looking smart in pale blue silk. Her aquamarine eyes took in Shay’s outfit with approval. “Jeannie sent me to bid you welcome. She’s in the kitchen, trying to pry an ice sculpture out of the freezer. Would you believe it’s a perfect replica of Venus de Milo?”

“Now we know why the poor girl has no arms,” Todd quipped, standing just behind Ivy.

Both Ivy and Shay groaned at the joke, and Ivy added a well-aimed elbow that splashed a few drops of champagne out of Todd’s glass and onto his impeccable black jacket.

“Six months till the wedding and I’m already henpecked,” he complained.

“I’ve been thinking about those condos,” Mitch reflected distractedly. “From an ecological standpoint…”

“Business!” Ivy hissed, dragging Shay away by one arm. They came to a stop in front of a table spread with plates of wilted crab puffs, smoked oysters, crackers and cheeses.

Shay cast one look in Mitch’s direction and saw that he was engrossed in his conversation with Todd. It hurt a little that he apparently hadn’t even noticed that she was gone. She took a crab puff to console herself.

Ivy frowned pensively at the morsel. “Isn’t that pathetic? You’d think a place as big as Skyler Beach would have one decent caterer, wouldn’t you? Mrs. Reese had to have everything brought in from Seattle.”