But there was no time to answer her own questions. The EAs had given Ted his time prompts, and he was now in the master suite getting ready. Should she tell him that Holly was gone? Go to Malibu herself to collect her? Hand in her resignation? Because if she went upstairs and told Ted he’d need to host this party himself—that he’d have to talk to people and shake their hands, even (gasp!) hug some of them, feign interest in their work and their families and maybe reveal something charming about himself in return and, oh yes, be gracious to the ex-wife he hadn’t seen in twenty years but who only an hour ago had asked him what the fuck is wrong with you—if she told him all of that, he would fire Zanne for incompetence.

Zanne walked out the side door and stood at the edge of the party.

“There you are,” Jane said, Serafina Clark at her elbow looking exactly like she did on TV—tall, wiry, teeth like headlights—only thinner. “They’re ready to talk to Holly. Can we make that happen soon?”

“Uh, yeah, you should check with Erin.”

Jane cocked her head. “She said I should check with you.”

Zanne laughed, as if it were just some funny coincidence and not a tactical passing of the buck. “We’ll track her down for you. Just sit tight a bit, okay?”

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down, then pointed at it as she walked away, as if to say, On it! But it wasn’t Holly, it was Gaby.

“Hey,” Zanne said, when she was safely out of Jane and Serafina’s hearing.

“Can you come down to the gate?” Gaby asked.

“Good, you’re back. Can you come up? I’m kind of dealing with something right now and need to stay close.”

“I’m not staying,” Gaby said. “I’ve got the keys to your truck.”

“Wait, what? Look, I’m sorry about before. Please, just come inside.”

“If you’re not coming down, I’ll just leave them at the guard shack.”

Zanne started down the driveway toward Gaby. “No, wait. I’m on my way.”

Gaby hung up.