Harper rolled her eyes. “Oh, I bet he loved that.”

“He was well paid and well fed, so I don’t think he had too many complaints.”

“So when do I get to meet the Sexy Secretary?”

Again with the nicknames. It was bad enough when Harper came up with creative monikers for the men in Allie’s life, but it was hardly appropriate for her employees. “First of all, he’s my executive assistant. Second, how do you know he’s sexy? And third, that’s sexual harassment.”

“First, semantics. Second, Facebook. And third, its only harassment if he works for me, which he does not. He would, however, be lots of fun to go drinking with. Oh, and dancing. I bet young Colin has some moves.”

The waitress arrived to take their orders and promised to return with a basket of bread, which Harper politely declined.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the stress jeans, were you?”

“It’s a DEFCON Five situation.” Harper leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “So what do you say?”

“About what?”

“You, me, and the Sexy . . .” She stopped herself. “You, me, and Colin. Drinks and dancing on Saturday?”

“This Saturday? As in two days from now?”

“Yep.”

Allie shook her head. “Won’t work. He’s going out of town this weekend. Sort of the trade-off for working over Thanksgiving.”

Harper shot a hopeful look across the table. “So maybe just the two of us can hang out, then?”

“I’m not sure. I have a lot of work to wrap up before everyone scatters for the holidays. And with Colin gone all weekend, it’s going to be tough.”

“Oh c’mon, I heard on the radio this morning that they’re doing the Nutcracker at the Joffrey Ballet, even have the Chicago Philharmonic playing.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

The waitress set the lettuce wraps on the table between them, along with two glasses of Pinot Grigio. Allie waited until they were alone before busting Harper’s plan wide open. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m simply trying to make plans to go to the ballet,” Harper said, stuffing a roll of the leafy greens in her mouth.

“You have zero interest in the ballet. Or classical music, for that matter.”

Harper washed the wrap down with what was left of her martini. “Men in tights, what’s not to love?”

“And if it were a midnight showing of a Cary Elwes movie at the Music Box, I might believe you.”

“Maybe I just want to broaden my horizons.”

“Harper, I know what Saturday is.” Allie helped herself to one of the cool leaves and filled it with spicy chicken. “And while I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I don’t need a babysitter this weekend.”

“It would have been your wedding day.”

“Honestly, I’m not losing sleep over the fact that I won’t be Marquise Laurent come Saturday.”

“Well, I know that much,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And thank God, because if I think the current sitch is bad, I would have never seen you after Julian whisked you off to his castle in France.” Her shoulders sagged. “But so much is different than you expected it to be this weekend, I just thought maybe . . .”

Allie set her lettuce wrap back on the plate and looked her friend in the eye. “There’s a lot about my life I wish I could change, but ending my engagement to Julian isn’t one of them.”

A quiet moment passed between them before Harper spoke. “I saw him.”

She didn’t have to say anything else, because Allie knew without asking exactly who she was referring to. And as much as she wanted to grill Harper for every little detail from what he said to the tie he wore, she resisted. Instead she turned her attention back to the appetizers, taking a bite while attempting to maintain an air of complete indifference. “These are pretty good,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, “for low carb.”

“I stopped at Rosebud to get takeout one night and he was there. Alone.”

“I’m sure he was meeting someone for dinner.” The lettuce wrap suddenly felt like a rock in the pit of her stomach as the image of Sophia’s perfect face popped into her mind.

“Nope. He already had his food, although he hadn’t eaten very much. Looked to me like he was just sipping a glass of Cab and reminiscing.”

Clearly Harper had no intention of letting the subject drop. And against her better judgment, Allie took the bait. “Reminiscing? You got that from a man drinking wine in an Italian restaurant?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention he was sitting at the same table where you two had your never-ending ‘just talking about the foundation’ coffee?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well he was. And he looked like shit,” she added matter-of-factly.

“The additional hours are probably taking their toll.” Allie had no idea how Hudson was managing the demands of a conglomerate like Chase Industries while at the same time maintaining a near-constant presence at Ingram. No wonder Harper thought he looked like shit—the man had to be operating on very little sleep.

“I don’t mean he looked like he could use a nap,” she said as if reading Allie’s mind. “I mean he looked like a guy whose heart was broken.”

Allie let out a harsh laugh. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”

“Why?”

“You make it sound like he was the male equivalent of being curled up in sweatpants nursing a pint of ice cream. There is no way Hudson Chase was anything but composed. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Oh he was, at least on the surface. Christ, even on his worst day that man looks perfect. I mean seriously, how in the world are his eyes that blue? And that hair, I swear, one of these days I’m going to run my fingers through it and I don’t care who’s watching. But when he asked about you—”

“You spoke to him?”

Harper nodded. “Just the usual small talk. When we’ll get the first snow, how was your Thanksgiving, that sort of thing. Oh, and PS: he worked through the holiday, too, so a fine pair you make.”

“Harper,” Allie said, trying to redirect her focus. “What did he say about me?”

“He asked how you were doing.”

“And?” Allie braced herself. There was no telling what Miss Good Intentions said to him. Allie knew she meant well, but sometimes Harper spoke before she thought.

“And I told him he would probably know better than I would since he works with you now, not me.”

That wasn’t so bad. Could have been a lot worse, actually.

“But he said he wanted to know how you were doing when you weren’t at the office in Terminator mode.”

Allie raised a brow.

“Okay, maybe those weren’t his exact words. But it wasn’t how he asked that killed me. It was the look in his eyes. Honestly, the man is hurting.”

Allie sat quietly for a moment as Harper’s words settled over her. Then in a hushed voice, she asked, “What did you tell him?”

Harper took a deep breath before letting the words tumble out of her mouth in a rush. “I told him that you’ve been just as miserable as he looked and that he shouldn’t give up on you, because one of these days you might stop being so stubborn and actually forgive him and get on with your lives.”

There it was. “You did not.”

“I most certainly did. Not that it makes much difference. You’ve told him to leave you alone so many times that now he’s actually doing it.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Pretty much.”

Hudson was letting her go. Unexpected tears stung her eyes at the thought.

“You’ve lost a lot these past few weeks, but Hudson doesn’t have to be part of that list. Can’t you give him another chance?”

A hot tear slipped down Allie’s cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand but didn’t answer.

“He tried to make it right. He went to see your dad after your weekend in Wisconsin.”

Allie finally opened her mouth to speak but Harper was on a roll.

“And don’t bother saying it was just some attempt to make a hostile takeover less hostile. From what you’ve told me Hudson went to great lengths to gain control of Ingram, all those shell companies and the other crap I can’t even begin to understand. Do you really think he would have backed off even an inch when he was about to close the deal? Someone like Hudson Chase didn’t get where he is today by giving things away. Have you stopped to ask yourself why he really did it?”