I finished my half-empty one and picked up the full glass, resting my chin in my hand. “You’re so different from them.”

“You are, too.” He watched me, his green eyes sparkling with life and kindness. “I wonder why?”

“I…” I paused and tapped my finger on my lips. “I don’t have a freaking clue.”

He laughed. “Me either. Maybe it’s the generation we’ve been born into.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I thought of Cory, who was the epitome of what my parents had to have been at my age. “Then again, maybe we’re just freaks.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, laughing. “But the best kind.”

I chugged the rest of my drink and stood up, smoothing my dress over my thighs. “You ready to go into the ranks again?”

“Yep.” He rose to his feet and offered his arms. “Shall we?”

Such an old-fashioned phrase. I dropped into a curtsy, grinning up at him before taking his arm. “We shall.”

I locked arms with him and we headed for the double doors that would lead us into the room where everyone—waitstaff, cook, house staff, and bodyguards—would be mingling with senators and governors. All dressed alike, all eating and drinking the same stuff.

We pushed through the doors and walked into mayhem.

Everyone was mingling and chatting, and the noise was incessant. Mr. Richards’s kids were running around pretending to shoot at each other, and the conversation was deafening. I cringed and tightened my grip on Riley’s arm. Suddenly, the empty sitting room seemed a heck of a lot better place to be. At least I could hear myself think.

Riley scanned the room. “Holy crap, this is insane.”

“Yeah.” I sighed and patted his arm. “Welcome to the Wallington Holiday Dinner.”

“It’s…different,” he said, grinning.

“Ah, there you are,” Mom said, smiling at me and then smiling even wider at Riley. “We were wondering where you two got off to.”

Riley nudged me and I bit down on my tongue to keep myself from laughing.

“Oh, you know, Mrs. Wallington.” He bowed at the waist. “Just talking and getting to know one another. Your daughter is fascinating.”

“Perfect.” Mom clapped her hands. “Come, come. There are refreshments of the spirited kind for you, Riley, and some sparkling cider and soda for those of you who aren’t twenty-one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Otherwise known as me.”

“Yes, dear,” Mom said, patting my arm. “Well, I’ll leave you two young ones to yourselves as I mingle. Ta-ta.”

I cringed and waved. “Bye.”

“She’s too cute,” Riley said, smiling after her. “My mom is nothing like her. She’s a bear disguised as a sheep.”

I looked at his small, blonde mom. She looked sweet and rich, like the rest of the women in the room. She talked to her tall, gray-haired husband, while a few feet away Larry and Christy talked between themselves.

“If you say so. She looks harmless enough.” I smiled at him and untangled myself from his arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to some of the staff.”

He bowed. “Have fun.”

I nodded and made my way over to Finn’s dad. He saw me coming and turned to me with a smile so much like Finn’s that it hurt to see. “Carrie, doll. You look gorgeous tonight.”

I smiled and hugged him. “You do, too. Very dashing.”

“Thank you.” He patted his thinning belly, sweat covering his forehead in a thin sheen. He looked exhausted. “I love these dinners.”

“So do I.” I pointed to an empty row of chairs. “Come, sit with me.”

He smiled and followed me. “You’re worried about me.”

“You look tired is all,” I protested. “Are you feeling well?”

“As well as a man my age can feel, yes.” He sat down and stretched his legs in front of him, then turned his shiny blue Finn eyes on me. “Getting old is no fun, doll.”

“I’m sure,” I said, sitting down beside him. “Besides that…are you well?”

He looked at me, his brow furrowed. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about my son.”

“O-Oh.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing tight. “He’s fine, I’m sure. He knows how to take care of himself, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to worry about him.”

God knows I’m doing enough of the worrying myself.

He froze and raised a brow, his eyes locked on mine. “Do you know him?”

“What?” I froze up, realizing what I’d done. I might as well have admitted to his father that I knew Finn and that we were dating. “I…I…no. I just meant that—”

“Carrie, dear?” Mom came up behind me and rested her hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to sit down, so you’ll have to follow me.”

I swallowed hard, gave Finn’s father one last look, then stood. “Of course.”

As she led me away, I looked at Finn’s dad again. He was watching me, his brow furrowed, and I know my heated cheeks were a dead tell, so I turned forward again. Mom led me to a seat that was next to Riley—of course—and next to one of the downstairs maids.

“You’re here.” She motioned Riley over. “And Riley, you’re here.”

I sat down, my heart thudding in my ears the whole time, and watched Larry as he sat across the table from me, but down a few chairs. Next to him was Mr. Richards, and they spoke to each other in low tones. I wanted to go sit next to them and eavesdrop, but I’d probably make a bigger mess out of it than I already had.

I stared down at my empty plate instead. I had a sinking suspicion that something bad was about to happen. It didn’t make any sense, but I did. Maybe it was just paranoia about what I’d said to Larry. Maybe it was the drinks I’d had.

But something felt off.

“Hello, again.” Riley sat next to me and waved his hand in front of my face. “Hello? Earth to Carrie? Are you in there?”

“Huh?” I looked up at him, blinking. “Oh. Yeah, sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yes.” I nodded and picked up my water. “Got distracted for a minute.”

He leaned closer, his hot breath washing over my ear. “Well, I am starving. Do you know what we’re having?”

“Um...” I took a deep breath and scooted away. The light flirtation we’d been sharing felt a little too close now. Especially with my parents watching and scheming, and Larry across the table. “I think it’s turkey and ham.”

He nodded. “Excellent. I love them both.”

“I hate turkey.” I lifted my chin and stared at the table. “I prefer lasagna.”

“That’s good, too,” he agreed. “I love lasagna.”

“Is there any food you don’t love?” I asked drolly.

“Um, nope.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re something else.”

“I’ve been told that once or twice. By you even.”

“By other women, too?”

“Of course,” he said, grinning. “They all love me as much as I love food.”

Such a cocky statement, but coming from him…it wasn’t cocky at all. I had no doubt it was true. He was kind, hot, and smart. What wasn’t to like? “I love food more than you.”

“That’s because you haven’t kissed me,” he said, shrugging. “That tips the scales in my favor.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Care to find out?” he asked, raising his brow.

“I’ll pass.” I frowned at him. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “Why isn’t your boyfriend here, anyway? If I were your man, I wouldn’t be sending you home alone at Christmas.”

I took a second to choose my words carefully. “He’s not—”

A phone rang, and everyone looked up. Then another phone joined in. I zeroed in on both the owners. Larry and Mr. Richards. Larry stood and fished out his phone, smiling at the table. “Sorry, I kept my phone on me in case my son called.” He looked down at the screen and frowned. “Excuse me for a second?”

“Yes, of course,” Dad said, nodding once.

Mr. Richards also answered, walking in the opposite direction of Larry. The two of them getting a phone call at the same time? That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?