I raised my glass, took a measured sip, and said nothing.
"Chairman Dickerson." Drew Finch appeared at my elbow, touching his glass to mine with an amiable smile. "The company's numbers look excellent this year. You should be pleased."
"I should be."
I returned the smile and drained my glass in one smooth motion.
Three rounds of drinks later, the atmosphere had reached a fever pitch.
The emcee took the stage, voice booming with theatrical energy as he announced the evening's main event.
The year-end bonus presentation.
Cheers and applause erupted from the floor. Every eye in the room locked onto the stage.
I straightened my lapels and ascended the steps.
Taking the microphone, I let my gaze sweep across the sea of faces—each one bright with anticipation, practically vibrating with excitement.
Mary sat at the head table, posture elegant, composed. Only the slight tightening of her hands in her lap betrayed anything beneath the surface.
Dean occupied the seat beside her. Spine ramrod straight. A faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. His eyes held the certainty of a man who already knew he'd won.