The gala had begun to settle into its final hour. Dessert had been served, champagne refilled, and most of the guests had migrated toward the lounge area where soft jazz played and quiet conversation lingered in every corner.
Cassie had slipped away from Luke for a moment. He’d been cornered by a group of real estate developers near the auction table, deep in some heated debate about zoning permits. Cassie, needing air and a break from the constant spotlight, wandered toward the far side of the room.
That was when he saw her.
Luke’s eyes followed her movement across the ballroom without meaning to. She stopped near the bar, speaking with a tall man in a charcoal suit. The man’s back was to Luke, but he didn’t need to see his face to recognize him.
Blake Winslow.
Of all people.
Winslo
