Page 53 of Over Her Dead Body

Our house gets the commission. Margot gets the credit. If I had been where I was scheduled to be, we would have shared both.

She spots me and lifts her brows: Where the hell have you been?

I answer with the smallest shrug: I’ll explain everything. Later.

Margot’s husband says something to a woman in pearls, polite and normal and married, and for one sharp second I envy the entire concept of responsible people.

Across the room, Genevieve accepts a kiss on the cheek from Philip Dane.

Philip is her long-standing whatever. Boyfriend sounds too adolescent. Partner sounds too sincere. Arrangement is probably closest, though both of them would pretend to be offended by the accuracy.

He comes and goes depending on which side of the planet is currently more useful. Genevieve never waits. Philip never asks her to.

Tonight, he looks at Reid with mild interest.

Not surprise.

Interest.

And just like that, Genevieve materializes beside us, champagne in hand.

She leads us through Philip’s house as if she is giving Reid a private tour and the rest of us are attractive consequences. People turn as we pass. Not all the way. Just enough. A head tilt here. A conversation briefly abandoned there. Everyone wants to know who he is and why Genevieve cares.

Reid notices.

The Reid I knew would have hated being watched.

This version acts like being watched is the point.

“The study is this way,” Genevieve says, then wrinkles her nose. “Philip calls it that because like Celeste, he likes things to sound taxable.”

Celeste smiles without looking at her.

Todd laughs.

No one else does.

“Celeste,” I say, low enough that only she hears me. “A word.”

Her eyes shift to me. Not annoyed yet. Not quite.

Her smile stays where it is. “Now?”

“Yes.”

That does it.

The annoyance arrives.

She lets the others move ahead by a few steps before turning toward me. We are not alone. Women like Celeste do not do alone when a hallway will do.

“What is it, Emma?”

I keep my voice even. Professional.

I glance toward Reid. “I’m not comfortable with him.”

“With Martin?”