Don’t be nervous. Everything will go as planned. Kate walked around the ballroom, apprehension building inside of her.

The last three weeks had been a whirlwind as she prepared for the Boston Mayor’s Winter Ball. It had served as a well-needed distraction from Michael, though. She still couldn’t believe Michael never even gave her the courtesy of a call.

Over two months of silence. But she knew in her heart that hearing his voice would only make things harder for her. It was probably for the best.

For the last few weeks, she’d been spinning a story in her head, telling herself that she had only fallen for Michael because of the circumstances. She had simply been a character in a movie, falling for the rich playboy, going against everything she believed in because she had been in close quarters with him and was scared.

That wasn’t love. Just context. True love and fairy tale endings were exactly that—fairy tales.

Every day she told herself that story. And every day, she felt she was getting a little closer to believing it.

Kate smoothed a hand over her sleek, white chiffon dress. The one-shoulder gown reached her ankles but also gave her some breathing room with a long slit up the side leg.

Take a deep breath. I’ll be fine. She shut her eyes for a moment, allowing the music to fade into the background. Just breathe.

She gave a nervous swallow as she opened her eyes and moved toward one of her employees, gliding in strappy heels across the ballroom floor. “How are things going?” she asked, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

The young brunette looked up at Kate and smiled. “Everything is perfect. The guests look happy. The mayor looks ecstatic. The music is divine.” She nodded and looked toward the orchestra.

“Excellent. I think you guys have everything covered. I’m going to go outside for a bit and get some fresh air.”

“It’s pretty cold out. The forecast shows snow, which is way too early for November.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kate smiled, grabbed her jacket from the coat check, and reached the large set of glass doors, noticing a slight tremble in her hand.

She ignored the alarm bells that sounded in her head as she stepped out onto the empty patio area. She rubbed her shoulders a bit, but the cool air was a welcome change to her heated and flushed skin.

She looked up to see the sun beginning to set, offering a blur of orange and pink that settled midway in the sky.

She tried not to feel a little empty as she glanced inside the ballroom through the glass doors, watching the happy couples move around the dance floor. She tried not to remember that she’d met Michael because she had been hired to plan his gala.

But the memory of their first kiss on the night of the ball slipped into her head and filled her with a mixture of pleasure and sadness. She missed his lips. The way they tightened when he stared at her as if he was struggling to control his desire.

Breathe. How many times would she need to remind herself to gather oxygen into her lungs? Tonight was such an important night. Thoughts of Michael bopping around in her head would only get her in trouble.

She forced her feet to move, to walk farther out into the maze that was the ghost of a garden. She found a bench and sat down, careful not to rip her dress as she pulled the soft coat snug to her body. She clasped her hands on her lap and shut her eyes. She needed a minute.

Just one minute.

“I thought that was you. What are you doing out in this frigid weather?”

When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at Erick Jensen. Throughout the coordination of the event, she had spent a lot of time working with him—at his insistence. “Taking a break,” she said, offering him a small smile. “How’s your wife? Feeling any better?”

“She has a touch of the stomach bug.” He took a seat next to her and rubbed his hands together. His black blazer was most likely not keeping him warm enough. “You did an amazing job tonight. Your mother would be proud.” He moved a little closer to her, his leg brushing up against hers.

She gave a polite nod and forced herself to respond, “Thank you.”

The touch of his cool hand against her cheek stunned her. She pulled her brows together and studied him with caution, her shoulders arching back.

“God, you’re stunning.”

She ignored her nerves and moistened her lips. “Do you miss her? Elizabeth?”

The pad of his thumb had brushed across her lips before he placed his hand on her thigh. “Having you here has made me miss her a lot more.”

She could see him swallow. “The flowers you had delivered to my office two weeks ago—the white tulips . . . you said they were my mother’s favorite, right?”

He nodded, his eyes darkening as he focused on her mouth.

“When you had tulips delivered to my hotel back in Charlotte in September—how’d you even know I was in the city?”

“I—” He tilted his head to the side and eyed her. “Eh, what are you—”

“Do you ever visit my mom’s grave?”

“Kate, what’s going on?”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” His hand on her forearm sparked a warning inside of her, but she disregarded it. “Erick, please, just tell me—did you love her?”

He looked up to the heavens and back at her again, his eyes ablaze with . . . something. “Yes.”

“Do you want me? Do you want me because I look like her?” Erick’s mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her in silence. “Erick?” She stood up.

“I cared very much for her, and you look so much alike. It can be confusing.” He rose to his feet and braced his hands on her shoulders, urging her toward him. “Yes—yes, I want you.”

“Then tell me the truth. Tell me what actually happened to her. I won’t blame you. I promise. I need to know what happened.”

Without responding, he reached for her, his mouth covering hers.

She struggled against him and pulled free. “You killed her,” she rasped, unable to stop herself. “You killed my mother. Admit it.” Her voice was raw now. And her body warm from adrenaline.

Erick had changed at that moment. He no longer studied her with a love-struck gaze. His face grew taut with emotion—with rage. “I want you, Kate. I need you. Let’s forget the past and move forward.”

“I love someone else.”

He shook his head, his face twisting with anger. “No. You’ve been flirting with me these last few weeks. Wearing slutty clothes and brushing up against me. You’ve been teasing me.” He shoved his hands through his hair before balling them into fists at his sides. “You’re a whore like your mother.” He grabbed her by the arm and tugged her against him, his hot breath on her face. “Your mother fucked me, made me fall in love with her, and then wouldn’t leave that asshole, David. She was everything to me. Fucking everything.” His voice, a low growl, echoed through the air.

She could feel his spit on her face as he yelled. “And you’re just like her—a manipulative bitch.”

“Why’d you kill her if you loved her?”

He ignored her as he began to yank her arm, trying to force her down the path, farther away from the ball.

“No.” She twisted and turned in his arms. She slammed her heel into the top of his shoe.

“Bitch!” He released his grip for a moment before seizing her arm again. “Your mother wouldn’t be with me, but—Goddamn it—you are.”

“Let her go.” A familiar voice roared through the air.

Kate shut her eyes at the sound. No, not yet. I didn’t get it yet!

Michael was on Erick in a split second. He reeled his hand back and socked him in the jaw, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. He kneeled down and reached for the lapels of his blazer before twisting Erick’s arms behind his back, effectively disabling him.

“Get the police,” Michael yelled while flipping him over, shoving his knee into Erick’s back, pushing his face against the concrete.

She chucked her heels and rushed with bare feet down the cold path to the ballroom, screaming for help as she neared the doors.

The security guards were at their stations, and there was a crowd of police, as well. The Boston Police Department was being honored at the ball this year. “Help!” she hollered as loud as her lungs would allow.

Everyone in the room stopped dancing, and the orchestra members dropped their bows. The party came to a screeching halt.

She was shaking.

The armed security guards and unarmed, uniformed police officers followed her down the trail. They rushed to action when they saw Michael standing over Erick’s body.

The guards aimed their weapons at Michael. “Back away!”

Michael looked up from Erick, his exhaled breath evident in the cool night. He held his hands up as he locked eyes with Kate.

“No. No, he’s the one who saved me,” she cried out, but no one seemed to hear. She watched in horror as they cuffed Michael and his eyes never left hers.

* * *

“Explain what happened tonight,” the detective said while sitting across his desk from Kate.

Kate glanced around the room, wondering where they were holding Michael. Why wouldn’t they let him go already? But why was Michael even at the ball?

Kate looked down at her hands in her lap and back up at the green eyes of the middle-aged detective staring back at her. “I have something I’d like you to hear.” She took an uneasy breath and reached into the pocket of her jacket.

The detective cocked his head and leaned back in his chair as Kate set her phone on his desk.

“Listen,” she said. She hit the play button.

When the recording ended, the detective squinted his eyes and leaned forward across his desk. “I didn’t hear him say he murdered your mother. Angry at her, yes . . . and he certainly hit on you. We can charge him with assault.”

Kate pressed her palms against the desk, knowing she needed to speak fast. “Twenty-seven years ago, my mother was shot while she was eight months pregnant with me.” She continued to explain the story, as well as the events that had led up to Dustin Scott’s arrest two months ago. “You can verify the story with the FBI.” She sat back in her chair, a little breathless.

“What finally tipped you off that Erick, a friend of the mayor’s, allegedly murdered your mother?” He scratched his chin and reached for a pen.

“The flowers.” She blinked a few times, still a bit shocked by how everything had come together. “When I was in Charlotte, white tulips were left on my mother’s grave and delivered to me anonymously at my hotel. I thought it was my stalker, but it wasn’t. Erick gave me the same flowers a few weeks ago, telling me they were my mother’s favorite. Something in my gut told me he was the guy.” She took a moment to replay the last few weeks in her mind. “I wasn’t sure, so I put my theory to the test. Flirted with him. Made him feel at ease with me. And then, tonight, I had hoped he would make his move—and he did.”

“A little risky, don’t you think?” he said, looking up from whatever note he was jotting down.

“I knew there were dozens of police officers at the ball. I wasn’t too worried.” Maybe it was a little stupid. “But I needed to draw him away from the ball. Make him feel comfortable.”

“And then you secretly recorded him?”

She nodded.

“And your friend, Michael Maddox . . . was he part of the plan?”

No. “You’d have to ask him what he was doing there.” She bit her thumb, nervousness settling in now that the adrenaline rush had dissipated from her system.

“I guess I’ll go talk to him myself.” He stood up from his desk. “Don’t go anywhere,” he warned before walking through the maze of desks and toward a closed room.