Moving with a grace that always surprised me for such a large man, he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

I didn’t want to eavesdrop so I went to the kitchen and poured myself a medicinal glass of white wine, which I sipped while I waited. I checked my reflection in the mirror. My hair was holding its long stylized curls, thanks to Ben, and my makeup was finished. My gown was a vintage number from 1962 that I had picked up in a thrift store in the Melrose district. It was off-the-shoulder and dipped low in the back, made of a form-fitting crimson lace over cream-colored satin that boasted a matching deep red satin bow, which perched above the slit at the back of my knees, making it flirty and fun and, more practically, possible to walk.

I could hear murmurs coming from behind the closed door. The low one was Jackson’s, punctuated every now and then by a higher tone, which was obviously Lexi. I wondered if the two of them had formed a friendship or more during the time he’d been driving her to and from the jobsite. I wondered if Nick knew. I wondered if he cared. The thought depressed me, and I tried to wash it away with a gulp of wine.

I glanced at the clock. If Jackson didn’t work his magic quickly, we were going to be late. Yes, even I, the chronically late one, knew that when you hosted the party, it was best not to be the last to arrive. I began to pace.

The murmurs stopped. I wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. I drank some more. I could feel the wine buzzing through my veins. I pushed the glass away. I was about to go knock on the door when it opened and Jackson stepped out.

He met my gaze from across the room, and a faint pink blush appeared just over his neatly trimmed beard. He cleared his throat and said, “She’ll be right out.”

I nodded. Then I grinned. “You have some lipstick in your beard.”

He looked horrified and swiped at his face. I laughed and held out a paper napkin to him.

“So,” I said. “Driver or boyfriend?”

His blush deepened. “Boyfriend.”

I laughed, delighted. “Good for you. She’s a keeper.”

He grinned in return as he dabbed at the section of beard I indicated. “I think so, too.”

“Do you think she’s going to be okay to do this tonight?” I asked.

He cast a dark look toward the big house. “I hope so.”

That was not as reassuring as I’d hoped, but I appreciated the honesty.

When Lexi reappeared, she looked calmer and her lipstick was fully applied. She glanced at us and said, “All right, let’s do this.”