I stared at the text until my coffee turned ice cold.
*Okay.*
The night of the gala, the banquet hall was a kaleidoscope of crystal and light.
I stood near the entrance, clipboard in hand, running the final security sweep.
Then the doors opened.
Anna Pruitt glided in wearing a custom silver haute couture gown that clung to her like liquid moonlight. She walked straight toward Jonathan, who was holding court in the center of the room.
"Jonathan." Her voice was a bell, clear and bright, drawing every eye in the room. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
Jonathan's face lit up—a genuine spark I hadn't seen in months. "Right on time."
He offered his arm.
Anna looped hers through it, and they stood there, shoulder to shoulder.
A perfect, golden couple.
I looked down at my own dress—a sensible champagne sheath.
Elegant. Professional. Appropriate for an Administrative Director.
The uniform of the support staff, not the star.
My assistant jogged over, looking distressed. "Director Kaufman... Mr. Gilbert is asking about the seating adjustment..."
"Execute the new chart." My voice was steady as granite.
"But..." She hesitated, biting her lip. "That seat in the second row... it's..."