Nicholas’s office party was held each year at La Caille, an expensive French restaurant tucked away on a twenty-acre reserve at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. I had been to the restaurant only once before, for a wedding of one of Dan’s co-workers, and I had never forgotten it. Housed in a stucco, ivy-covered French château, it had its own three-acre vineyard, and during the warmer months peacocks roamed the yard amid statuary and topiaries, while black and white swans glided in the swan pool. Tonight, the grounds were covered in snow and were extravagantly lit with strings of white lights.

Nicholas pulled his car up the restaurant’s tree-lined cobblestone drive to a roundabout near the front door. He handed his keys to the valet, then took my arm and led me inside. The lobby was exquisite, with a large antique chandelier and parquet-tile floor. Harpsichord music softly echoed through the tile and stucco interior.

The young hostess who greeted us looked like a model, and, as I remembered from the wedding, all the waitresses wore low-cut gowns that were presumably all the rage in eighteenth-century France.

“Your firm rents the entire restaurant?” I asked.

“Every year,” Nicholas said.

“What does that cost?”

“Enough,” he said with a pained smile.

We walked up a circular stairway to the main dining room, which was crowded with several hundred of the firm’s staff and guests. Everyone seemed pleased to see Nicholas.

“You’re very popular,” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “I’m a partner. I help decide what they get paid. Would you like something to drink? They have remarkable eggnog.”

“I would love an eggnog,” I said.

“Coming up.”

While I was waiting for Nicholas to return, a stunningly attractive woman in an eggplant-colored strapless evening gown walked up to me. “Hi, I’m Candace,” she said.

“Hi. I’m Elise.”

“You’re Nick’s girlfriend.”

“I . . .” I smiled. “Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Something about the way she said it made me doubt her sincerity.

“Are you a legal secretary at the firm?” I asked.

She practically grimaced with disgust. “No, I’m a lawyer,” she said. “And what is it that you do?”

“I’m in travel,” I said.

“Travel,” she repeated lightly. “I avoid it if I can. I’m a diamond-level frequent flier with Delta.”

“That’s way too much time in the air,” I said.

“You’re telling me,” she replied. “How did you and Nicholas meet?”

“We just started talking in the food court.”

“The food court. At the office?”

“I know. Not very romantic.”

“I guess I need to start eating more fast food. This Paleo diet certainly isn’t doing anything for me.”

“I would disagree,” I said. “You look gorgeous.”

She seemed surprised by the compliment. “Thank you.”

Just then Nicholas returned, carrying two glasses. “Hello, Candace,” he said.