Blaire studied him for a moment before making her approach. He was still as over-the-top gorgeous as he had been fifteen years ago, leaning casually against the doorjamb, that lock of hair that never behaved grazing his forehead. Women were probably still falling at his feet. And she noticed that now everything about his look was expensive, from his exquisitely tailored black suit to his Italian leather dress shoes. The first time Kate brought Simon home over spring break, she had confided to Blaire that he felt out of his element. He had grown up on the Eastern Shore of Maryland in a family of modest means. His father’s death of a heart attack when Simon was twelve had devastated the family, both emotionally and financially. His mother never really recovered, and if not for the scholarships Simon earned, it would have been impossible for him to attend Yale. When he and Kate married, he had finally been in a position to make his mother’s life more comfortable, until her death shortly after Annabelle was born. And clearly he’d made his own life more comfortable too, Blaire reflected.

A young brunette woman was by his side. She was good-looking, but what grabbed Blaire’s attention was the way she was looking at Simon, with a mix of adoration and expectancy. Simon smiled as she said something and touched his arm. Their body language made it clear that they knew each other well. Blaire wondered how well. After a moment, Simon seemed to end their conversation, though Blaire couldn’t hear his words. The young woman’s eyes followed him as he approached Kate. Then she turned and stalked away, stopping for a long moment in front of a mahogany sideboard. After she’d left the room, Blaire walked over to see what had caught the woman’s attention. It was a silver-framed wedding photo of Kate and Simon, both smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

A bell tinkled, and a uniformed man announced that it was time for lunch. Simon was standing across the room alone, and Blaire seized her opportunity. As she approached him, his expression turned leery.

“Simon, hi. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said with all the sincerity she could muster.

He stiffened. “What a surprise to see you here, Blaire.”

Anger surged through her like acid, starting in her belly and burning as it rose to her throat. The memory of what had happened the last time she saw him pushed against her with the force of a tidal wave, but she pushed back. She had to stay cool, composed.

“Lily’s death was a terrible tragedy,” she said. “Now isn’t the time for pettiness.”