A long-wheelbase Bentley pulled up in front of Donovan Rise. As if it wasn’t enough, a Whitaker crest was painted on the side. Sophie held her laugh: Mrs. Whitaker didn’t play. She really wanted to cheer Sophie up. So as to not waste the kind gesture, Sophie climbed into the car and, within the bounds of propriety, enjoyed all the amenities provided.
Except the vintage wine. Damn, Sophie could really use some of that.
She put her hands on her belly.
There would be champagne tonight. Plenty of it.
Normally, refusing a glass at a Whitaker gala would attract little attention. Tonight, however, every eye in New York seemed determined to watch her. She still wanted to keep her baby a secret for a little longer, but if she completely steered away from alcohol, she wondered if it would be too
