Rain kissed the sidewalk outside the opulent Metropolitan Hall. The “Night of Threads" gala had already begun, golden light spilling from the grand entrance like spilled champagne.
Nathalie stepped from the town car and adjusted her coat, sleek in navy silk and silver heels. She reached for her clutch—only to freeze.
Her invitation wasn't there.
She dug through the bag again. Nothing.
“I don't believe this," she whispered.
The valet looked impatient. “Name, ma'am?"
“Nathalie Pendleton. I'm—" She straightened. “I'm Benjamin Pendleton's wife."
The man tapped his earpiece, muttering. Two crimson-vested security guards appeared.
“Ma'am, I'm sorry. We can't let anyone in without an invitation."
“I'm on the guest list," she said firmly.
“Your name's not on the primary list," one guard
