“Wine… almond croissants… ten million dollars.” Lara nodded. “I’m in.” She noticed that her mother had suddenly become very uncomfortable, shifting in her chair and tugging at her hair. “Are you okay, Mother?”

“I’m fine.” Audrey looked anything but fine.

“Bon. I will email Barrow tonight,” said Gaston.

After dinner, the Rivoli Circus Orchestra performed in the foyer of City Hall. The expansive stairs and balcony were lined with people sipping cocktails and dancing.

Ben and Lara were perched on the stairs watching partygoers. “Can I get you champagne?”

“I would like that,” said Lara. She followed him down the stairs.

He put his finger up for her to wait one minute at the bottom and Lara watched him walk to the bar.

He returned with two glasses, and instead of handing one to her, he placed both glasses on a highboy and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. She wrapped her arm around his neck and felt his body press against hers. Oh, how she’d wanted this night to be different. Ben was her closest confidant. Had she been confused by her feelings for him? Was she rebounding as her mother had suggested? No. Even now, dancing with him, there was a space for him. She just wasn’t sure that it would be enough for him. Even now, he looked at her expectantly.

“You look far away tonight,” said Ben.

She smiled. It was hard for her to hide anything from him. “I heard you’re a terrible dancer.”

“No,” he said. “I’m a terrible waltzer and I cannot do the tango. I see you’ve been talking to Marla. She delights in telling people that I can’t dance. And quit evading the question.”

“I’m okay,” she said. “Stop interrogating me.”

“You look beautiful.”

She closed her eyes. It was what Todd had said to her earlier, on the steps.

He leaned in, and Lara could smell his aftershave. “Can I tell you something that I’ve never told you? I mean, I wanted to tell you this so many times, but I just didn’t know how to broach it.”

“Sure.” Her cheek was nearly touching his, and she whispered into his ear.

“It’s a shame no one saw you,” he said. “That day.” He turned his lips, and she could feel the warmth of his breath in her hair. He didn’t need to elaborate on what day he meant. She knew it was the day of her wedding. “You were breathtaking.”

She recalled the scene as she marched out through the Gothic church doors. She pulled him close and just held him. It was such a raw admission from him. And that day was still such a wound to her that it was like a glue between them.