“Is this everyone?” Kiara asks, once I’ve done another round through the room.
“Yeah, I—”
I stop as I notice a blonde woman sitting by herself at the end of the bar, effortlessly elegant in a black strapless dress. Her hair is twisted into a complicated knot to emphasize her long, swanlike neck. She’s in the middle of telling Chester something. He laughs, eyes crinkling.
She turns slightly, and I freeze. I recognize that face from my Instagram stalking sessions.
Jessica Danes.
“Make sure everyone is enjoying themselves,” I tell Kiara. “I’ll be right back.”
She follows my gaze. “What the hell? Is that Jessica?”
“Yes,” I say tightly. I weave through the room, a smile plastered on my face. At the bar, Chester raises his brow—no doubt noticing my pinched expression—but I shake my head, and he busies himself with something at the other end of the counter.
“Jessica?” I wipe my sweaty palms on my dress. “Jessica Danes?”
Jessica turns to look at me. “Poppy Winfield, right? Fabulous party.”
My stomach clenches. I knew she was pretty, but in person, it’s clear that description falls short. “Thanks,” I reply, working to keep a pleasant look on my face. “I’m sorry, but this party is invitation-only.”
“Oh, I’m an old friend of Jack’s.” She smiles, her cherry red nails tapping the bar. “But I’m sure you already know that.”
My smile wavers. I resist the urge to look around the diningroom, pitching my voice low. The last thing we need tonight is a scene. “We have a very selective guest list for this event. Let me show you to the exit.”
She takes another sip of her drink. “And yet there was an open seat at the bar.”
“Like I said, it’s invitation-only.”
“I’m sure Jack will be happy to see me.” She cranes her head around. “Is he coming out anytime soon?”
“He’s busy,” I say flatly. My patience is wearing thinner by the second. “Given that he’s the one running the kitchen, and all.”
She tilts her head to the side, gaze sweeping over me with cool interest.
“What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to her dress. “Enough to get him to buy me a drink when this is over?”
“What are you talking about?”
“A drink. You know, take me out.” She wrinkles her nose. She reminds me of so many women I orbited around in New York. Icy, wrapped in couture, and obnoxiously self-assured so they wouldn’t have to admit how insecure they were. “Not that there’s anywhere to go in this dead town, but I’m sure Jack and I will make do.”
I cross my arms, hip cocked. The protectiveness surging through me is for Diamond Bay just as much as Jack. She doesn’t know the first thing about this town. “If it’s so dead, why’d you come all the way out here? For the last time, this is a private event, and you need to leave.”
She doesn’t move.
I suppress a growl of frustration. “Jessica, please. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
Like hell I will, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Do you really want to throw me out in front of all these people? Ruin Jack’s big night?” At my lack of response, she sips her drink. “Exactly.”
“He told me what you did,” I say flatly. “You can’t seriously think he’d be even remotely interested in you again.”
“We all make mistakes.” She crosses one long leg over the other, sighing. “I should have stuck with him. But he wasn’t nearlyas interesting when he was just hired help, you know? Now, he’s someone. All thanks to you, it seems.”
Anger hits me like a tidal wave. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She finishes her drink, setting the empty glass on the bar with a deliberate clink. “I chose wrong.”
