“You promise?” she asked him as she drove her little hatchback toward Connor’s second family home.

“My father will be on his best behavior, trust me,” he said.

She smiled as she hung up and pulled off the highway—this was deep in the Virginia countryside. His father didn’t really bother her, but it was a bit cute watching Connor squirm about him. And this time, it would hardly be her in a fishbowl setting. When Connor told her it was a “big political fundraising shindig,” she could only imagine how big it would be.

Sam followed her GPS as it led her to a sprawling plantation-style home. The long driveway was lined with blossoming dogwoods, the white pillars of the sprawling home an homage to the estate’s history. She drew in her breath as a hired valet rushed to her. How much money did these people have?

It was barely five in the afternoon, and already people were everywhere, champagne and martini glasses in hand. She passed by a lake stocked with swans and lily pads. In the distance, she made out a white horse stable and tennis court. A tipsy older woman laughed and crashed into Sam. “I’m so sorry, dear,” she said. Sam smiled at her, happy that the woman’s glass was empty.

Spread across the property and spilling out of the house, everyone was dressed to the nines. It was like The Great Gatsby had shot through time and arrived squarely in front of her. Another woman traipsed in front of her, wearing a fur shawl, the Virginia spring be damned. Who wears fur still?

Sam skirted the house and found the rear entrance. The original Dutch door opened onto a screened-in patio where one of what she could only assume were many bars stood. Finally, she spotted Connor surrounded by a group of young, beautiful women. They were clearly taken, and all smiled up at him.

A twinge of jealousy pulled at her. What’s your problem? You don’t have any rights to him.

Connor saw her and immediately broke away from the group of girls. “You look great,” he told her.

She bit her lip and looked down. When she’d first pulled the short, fringed black dress out of its garment bag, she’d thought James had gone mad. However, she was so thankful for the relatively low, thicker heels with Mary Jane straps she hadn’t asked questions. Now she knew James had known exactly what he was doing. The dress paired perfectly with the vibe of the event, and the shoes were ideal for walks around an estate. “Thanks,” she said. Her eyes roamed back to the girls.

“Young, pretty things to make my father look good,” Connor explained. “They might as well see the good stock first, right?” he smirked.

“And, what, then your father so they can see what to expect in thirty years?” She snapped her mouth shut, and knew she’d gone too far.

Clouds moved across his eyes. “Ouch,” he said. “Let’s get some champagne, shall we? For me at least.”

“I’ll have one,” she said.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“In a water glass. Make it look like cider.”

“You’ve caught on beautifully,” he said.

He got their drinks, took her arm and directed her toward his father, who was circled by a small group. She drew in her breath to prepare for whatever miserable conversation she was about to endure.

“Then the boy says, I’ve only been a white kid for five minutes and I already hate you black people!” His father had just finished what she could only imagine was the most racist joke possible when they arrived.

Half of the crowd laughed politely, while one young man simply widened his eyes.

“Connor, there you are!” his father said. “And my grandchild-making machine. Isn’t she lovely? Won’t take a sip of alcohol, keeping that system clean as a whistle. Can you believe it?”

“Lovely to meet you,” one of the women said to Sam, offering her hand. “What a gorgeous dress.”

“I’ve told them to hold off until after the wedding,” his father continued. “But,” he said, as he breathed deeply, “with this fresh country air and romantic estate, I can hardly blame them if we have to bump the wedding date up a bit, if you know what I mean. Look at this girl! Legs like a thoroughbred. I tell you, I can’t even imagine how beautiful those grandkids will be.”

Sam couldn’t help but turn bright red. She stared at her feet. Could she actually hate this man? Was that too harsh?

“Great to see you again,” Connor said to the man next to him. He ignored his father’s comments entirely. Was he used to this? What happened to him coming to her rescue?

“Excuse me a moment,” she said. “Ladies’ room.” Instead, she went to the bar and ordered another champagne in a water glass. “When I ask for the cider, this is what you give me,” she told the bartender as she tipped him a ten.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Slightly buzzed, his father’s comments lost some of their sting. She made her way back to the group, but couldn’t help but stare at Connor as she did. Even if he could be a bit arrogant and pompous at times, hadn’t he earned it? Look at him! Every woman there, no matter who they were, lusted after him. Me included, she admitted to herself.

As she finished half her glass, she came up behind him and wound her arm through his. Connor was in the middle of entertaining two middle-aged women who looked at him like they were starved.

“So, this is the lucky girl,” one of the women said, her voice dripping with envy. “To be young again,” she said.

“Connor!” his father called. “Come here a moment and meet Mr. Lee. Sam, you don’t mind.”

She wanted to ask if that was a question or a statement, but kept her mouth shut. Suddenly, the secret champagne really did rush through her and she started to hunt for the restroom as Connor was engulfed in more small talk. She found one without a line upstairs, but the door was locked.

When it opened, out tumbled one of the most stunning girls she’d ever seen. Her platinum blonde hair was pinned up in a tight chignon, offsetting her gray eyes and perfect cat eyeliner. Behind her was her friend, in Havana twists with the most striking eyes Sam had ever seen.

“Hey! Hey, you’re the fiancée, right?” the blonde said, clearly drunk. Her friend dabbed at her nose.

“Connor’s fiancée?” she asked. “Yes, I am. I’m Sam,” she said, and smiled warmly at the girl.

“Oh my God! Then you know!” she said.

“Know what?” She really had to go to the bathroom, but the two girls blocked the doorway.

“You know… like, how big he is!” she said with a laugh.

“Shut up!” her friend said. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not, I’m congratulating her!” she said. The blonde leaned into Sam and put her arm around her. “Really though, like a friggin’ horse! Am I right?”

“Um. Yeehaw?” Sam said. This was the exact conversation she didn’t want to be having.

“No, though. I mean it’s been a few years since I was with him. Not since you, of course! But I give you mad props, girl, for snagging him. The first time we were together, I couldn’t walk right for like a week.”

“Jesus,” her friend said. “Can we go now? Sorry,” she said to Sam.

“Um, thank you,” Sam said to the blonde. The two girls stumbled down the hall.

Are they for real? she wondered as she closed the bathroom door. Could he really be that big? I mean, she’s assuming we’ve slept together so there’s no point in exaggerating, right?

She looked at herself in the antique mirror. “Get it together,” she told herself. Sam pulled her red MAC lipstick out of her purse and reapplied it. She pressed tissue between her lips and blotted her face next. “You can do this.”

When she exited the bathroom, an older man waited there. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“Not at all,” he said, his eyed glued to her cleavage. “It was well worth the wait.”

She hurried downstairs and started to look for Connor again. As always, he’d found himself in the middle of a cluster of women. These were younger, perhaps still in high school. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. “This is my fiancée, Sam,” he told them. One of them audibly groaned. “These are the, uh, daughters of some of my father’s colleagues.”

“Oh, then I’m sure you all have a lot in common,” Sam said sweetly as Connor put his arm around her waist.

“You’re really pretty,” one of the girls offered.

“Thank you. So are you,” she said. “I love your shoes.” The group of girls giggled and wandered away. “You mind staying out of jail, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Hey, they came up to me—”

“That’s what they all say.” She teased him, but her eyes kept wandering down to his crotch. Was the blonde being serious? “I met one of your exes in the bathroom,” she said.

“I cringe to imagine which one,” he said as he directed her toward a group of retirees.

“Blonde, which I know is your thing of course,” she said.

“You’d have to be more specific. There’s a lot of blondes here.”

“A lot of blondes you’ve slept with?” she asked.

He shrugged, and her eyes roved once again to his package. She couldn’t tell much, what with the suit jacket.

“She was beautiful,” she admitted. “I think her friend was snorting blow in the bathroom.”

“I know who you mean,” he said. “And she’s hardly an ex. We hooked up a couple of times, she’s the granddaughter of one of my father’s investors.”

“She only had nice things to say about you,” Sam said.

“Well, there’s a surprise. Good evening,” he said to the group as he plastered on his business smile. “Have you met my fiancée, Sam?”

She got back into her groove with small talk. Still, she lost track of some of the details because she couldn’t stop checking out what the blonde had promised her. How big is big, though? I mean, isn’t it all relative?

“…don’t you think, dear?” the woman standing in front of her asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said. Sam had no idea what she was agreeing to.

“I do, too. You know, most young people these days…”

The woman continued to blather on, and Sam stared again at Connor’s midsection. Is there such a thing as too big? I imagine you’d have to work up to it…

Her eyes moved upward and took in his wide chest. How masculine his hands were that held that scotch tumbler. When she reached his face, she realized he’d been staring at her the entire time. Connor nodded at her and gave her that smirk that she’d seen him dish out to every girl that fawned over him.

Embarrassed, she immersed herself in the boring conversation with the woman.

“…the Tories, that’s who we need to be emulating,” the woman said.

“I couldn’t agree more.”