The hotel ballroom smelled like expensive cologne and cut flowers. The kind of room where someone had spent a great deal of money to make the space feel important. Arianne had been in enough of these rooms to read the investment on sight. The chandeliers. The table settings. The catering staff in pressed white uniforms.
She stepped out of the car and the cameras found her immediately.
Gilbert was on her left. Julian on her right. They’d arrived together, which had been intentional. Gilbert had suggested it. Arianne had agreed. She didn’t need to say why.
The reporters were gathered at the entrance, held back by ropes and hotel security. Five cameras. Three microphones. Two reporters with notepads.
"Mr. Pemberton!" The first reporter was young, eager. "Your thoughts on the forum’s theme this year?"
Gilbert paused. He’d been CEO of Pemberton Corp for over a decade and knew how to give an answer that sounded substantive without actually saying much. "The theme is growth," he said. "Montclair’s business community has always been about growth. I’m here to see what that looks like this year."
The reporter nodded. Gilbert moved on.
A second reporter caught Julian. "Mr. Monreau, Conway Capital has been quiet lately. Any announcements coming?"
Julian smiled — the kind that meant he was already three steps ahead. "Conway Capital is always working. You’ll hear about it when we’re ready."
The reporter accepted this. They usually did with Julian.
Then the third reporter stepped forward. Arianne recognized her. Rachel Chen, Financial Times. She’d interviewed Arianne once before, when Arianne had been at Summers Corporation. Rachel Chen didn’t forget faces.
"Ms. Summers." Rachel’s voice was professional. "You’ve had quite a year. A new marriage. A new child. How does that affect your work at Rochefort Group?"
Arianne’s face didn’t move. She’d seen this question coming from the moment the announcement went up.
"Rochefort Group’s performance speaks for itself," she said. "My personal life doesn’t affect my professional decisions."
"That’s a very corporate answer."
"It’s the answer I have."
Rachel Chen studied her. Arianne met her gaze and held it.
"Fair enough," Rachel said. "What about the recent meetings with Mythos Group? Is Rochefort Group considering international expansion?"
"We’re always considering opportunities. Nothing has been finalized."
"Can you tell us anything more?"
"Not at this time."
Rachel nodded. She’d gotten what she wanted. Arianne had confirmed the meetings, offered nothing about her private life, and shut every door with a full sentence. She stepped past the reporter and walked toward the entrance. Gilbert and Julian flanked her.
The main hall was larger than it looked from outside. Round tables. A stage at the far end with a podium. Men and women in suits standing in clusters, holding champagne and performing the particular theater of not-quite-networking. Arianne recognized most of the faces. She’d been in meetings with a good number of them.
She scanned the room for exits, entry points, faces that mattered.
Her eyes found Dominic. He was standing near the bar, in conversation with a man she didn’t recognize — an investor, from the look of him. Confident posture. Expensive suit. The lean of someone being sold to. Dominic was listening, nodding.
Gilbert leaned in. "Don’t face Rafael alone. If you see him, find me or Julian first."
"I won’t."
"I mean it."
"I said I won’t."
Julian was scanning. His eyes moved across the crowd, reading faces, pausing briefly on each one.
"Julian," Gilbert said. "Don’t actively look. It gives it away."
Julian’s face didn’t change. "I’m not looking."
"You’re looking."
"I’m observing."
"Same thing."
Julian didn’t answer. He kept scanning.
Arianne walked into the crowd and let herself be absorbed. Gilbert and Julian followed — close enough to intervene, far enough not to look like bodyguards.
The congratulations started immediately. A man in a blue suit: Rochefort Group’s performance, the board must be pleased. A second: the Mythos Group meetings, impressive, any expansion plans. A third: the marriage, unexpected, but the coverage had been positive. A fourth: the child, a boy wasn’t it, what’s his name? Each one got the same return. Polite. Professional. Arianne gave nothing away. She read each face and gave them the minimum that would satisfy.
Dominic approached midway through the hour. He came toward them with a considered step, his face carefully neutral.
He stopped at a respectful distance. "Gilbert. Julian." A nod to each. Then his eyes moved to Arianne. A brief look. No more than a second. "Arianne."
She didn’t answer.
Dominic held her gaze, then nodded once more. "Good to see you all."
He walked away.
Julian watched him go. "Regret always comes late for cheaters."
Gilbert said nothing.
"He couldn’t have accepted it," Julian continued. "That you survived. That you came back and built something he’ll never touch. That you’re living well with another man. It must be eating him alive."
Arianne watched Dominic cross the room. Polished. Well-dressed. The same man who had stood beside her at the engagement banquet and told the world she wasn’t enough. She’d braced herself for the sight of him and found she didn’t need the bracing.
"Can we stop talking about him?" Arianne asked.
Julian looked at her. "Yes. Sorry."
She didn’t acknowledge it. No Rafael in sight.
"I need to use the washroom," she said.
Gilbert glanced at the hallway. It was visible from where they stood. "We can see you from here."
"I know."
"Don’t take too long."
"I won’t."
The washroom was empty. Arianne stood at the counter and checked her reflection. Her face was flat. The flush from the heat of the room was gone. Her lipstick was in place.
She pulled out her phone. Franz had texted. Agency meeting running long. Thinking of you. Good luck.
She typed back. Fine. Don’t worry.
She put the phone away. She looked at herself one more time, then stepped out.
The hallway was empty. The main hall was ahead. She could hear the murmur of voices. The clink of glasses. The piano from the corner. She took a few steps toward it.
"Arianne."
The voice came from her left. She turned.