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“Yep,” Pascal says. “Just enough time to pull it off, and still enjoy the biggest party of the year.”

The next day is a whirlwind. I fly into action, wrapping up every last detail. Thankfully, I’d done most of the legwork before I left. The venue is set, the guys’ suits are pressed, and Pascal’s toast, which he’ll give in front of his mother and the board, has my stamp of approval.

The guys even surprise me with a gorgeous new dress, plus jewelry and heels to match. When I finally walk down the staircase, all three of them are waiting at the bottom in custom-tailored suits. For a second, I forget how to breathe.

“You look amazing,” Jarek says.

Zander doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes travel slowly down my body and back up, like he’s memorizing it. “Stunning,” he finally says.

Pascal offers me his arm. “Tonight, you’re my guest of honor.”

I take it. I can feel the tension in him. This is his event, and he’s ready for it, except for having me there, not just as his employee, but as the woman he loves. Tonight, a lot of people will be watching him and judging how he runs this fundraiser. It could go smoothly. Or his family could find a reason to pick everything apart. We’ve worked so hard on it, and I’m holding my breath.

The only thing that calms me down when we arrive is the way Pascal keeps my arm tucked against his side as we walk into the Braxton. He leads me through the glittering halls like I belong there.

It takes all of thirty seconds for the Beaumonts to find us.

“It really doesn’t take your mother long, does it?” Zander murmurs as Mrs. Beaumont cuts through the crowd toward us like she’s on a mission.

I feel Pascal stiffen, and I rest my hand on his arm.

“You’ve got this,” I remind him.

He smiles. “Yes, I do.”

“Hello, Mother.”

He lets go of my arm and kisses his mother’s cheek. It’s polite. Practiced. There’s no warmth in it at all.

“Good to see you, darling. And your friends. Hello, Jarek. Hello, Zander.”

“Mrs. Beaumont,” Zander says, with a nod.

Jarek kisses her cheek and tells her she looks lovely. She accepts it like she’s used to hearing it.

“And who is this?”

“This is Nina,” Pascal says.

I smile and offer my hand.

She doesn’t take it. She just looks at it, then turns back to Pascal.

“Your assistant?”

For a moment, nobody breathes. We all wait for Pascal’s answer.

“No, Mother. She’s a lot more than that.”

Mrs. Beaumont opens her mouth, ready to start interrogating him right there. Pascal cuts her off before she can say a word.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, calm and completely in control, like he’s finally taking his place in his family’s company. “I have a toast to give.”

He smiles at his mother, winks at me, and heads for the podium, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray on the way.

Mrs. Beaumont follows right behind him, clearly planning to judge every word. She obviously has no interest in standing here with the rest of us.

“Well, that was awkward.” Zander chuckles. “But I have to give him credit. I wasn’t sure how that was going to go. She’s going to pick his speech apart now.”