Janelle was attractive, but not drop-dead gorgeous. She was thin with great breasts and a butt that seemed to be made of constant squats and heavy lifting, and for that, she was practically divine.

She stared at me for several seconds, and by her eyes alone, I could tell she didn’t want me here. Her actions were clear—she didn’t shake my hand or hug me. But of course, her words had to be welcoming. They had guests tonight, which meant she needed to be on her best behavior.

“Where’s Mom?” Jude inquired, ignoring her ignorant statement.

“She and dad are making their rounds. You know how they like to greet everyone themselves before the party actually starts. Mingle, yeah? Maybe you should do the same? I have a few potential investors who are waiting to meet you.”

Janelle put her eyes on me again. “Your dress is very pretty, Jenna. Where did you get it?”

“It’s Dior,” I answered, and her eyes expanded.

“Wow. And how long did it take you to save up to buy it?”

“Janelle,” Jude warned, which also made me bite my tongue. I wanted to respond with a simple, “Jude bought it for me,” but I knew better. For now, at least.

“Well, Jude, you can come with me. I want you to meet the investors before the night begins.”

Jude sighed and when he took a step away, his absence made me weary. “Grab a drink or two. I’ll be back for you,” he murmured over his shoulder at me. Janelle was already walking off like some dainty fairy, on the hunt for the so-called investors.

I nodded and pressed my lips, watching him leave. As I turned and walked to the bar, I took a brief moment to scan the many faces surrounding me. I didn’t see Michaela and was more than glad about it. Maybe she wouldn’t show up at all. Wishful thinking, I know.

When I got to the bar, I ordered a glass of red wine. While the wine was being poured, I swore I felt eyes on me. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted Mrs. Clement with a group of women. She was chatting quietly with them, and then her eyes bounced over to me.

Our eyes met once, and in hers I saw a mixture of disapproval with a sprinkle of what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here?. I jerked my gaze away before I could see what else swam in those light-blue eyes, grabbing my wine and heading for a cocktail table. I took a sip of the semi-sweet wine, placed my clutch down with a sigh, and then opened it, digging through it for my cellphone.

I sent Carrie a quick text message to fill her in and also not to seem like so much of a loser while sipping wine alone at a social event. I knew Carrie was working though. It’d be a while before she got back to me.

“Well, don’t you look nice?” a familiar voice asked beside me. My heartbeat quickened from the mere sound of it. Her voice was like ice, and that ice went skating right down my spine, chilling me to the bone.

I turned, keeping my face casual. I put on a wide, toothy smile as I came face-to-face with Mrs. Clement.

“Mrs. Clement,” I said, doing my best to sound chipper. “It’s so nice to see you. And you look amazing yourself.”

Though the woman was a mega-bitch, she did have style. Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie style that suited the strong structure of her face and her high cheekbones. She had a stern look about her, especially around the eyes, but everything else was very much feminine. She reminded me of Miranda Priestly from my favorite movie, The Devil Wears Prada. Only bitchier.

“Thank you, dear.” She took a step forward, scanning me thoroughly, making me feel uncomfortable. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.” Bullshit. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you. I hope you are still being a good secretary to my son.”

I bobbed my head once. “I am—well, I’m trying my best.”

“Oh, sweetie, with a job like that, you’ll need to be trying more than your best.” Her smile was tight. “Right?”

I kept a smile going, but I so badly wanted to shove my middle finger in her face.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just wanted to give my greetings. There are a few other people I want to see before they get a little drunk and wild, if you know what I mean.” She tittered and I laughed with her, hoping it sounded genuine.

Mrs. Clement walked off and I let out the breath that was trapped in my lungs, turning for my wine and taking several large gulps. I was going to need more than wine to get through this night.

I looked up and spotted Jude across the room, standing a few feet away from the jazz band, talking to his father. Jude looked a lot like his dad, though he got his eyes and hair color from his mother.

Mr. Clements’ hair had greyed a lot. He was a nice guy—at least he was every time I spoke to him. He didn’t really look down on me the way Mrs. Clement and Janelle did. He wasn’t very welcoming either. He would shake hands and keep to himself, which was more than okay with me. At the end of the day, all he really cared about was business, and I was certain that was exactly what he and Jude were talking about in that very moment.

Jude stood there looking wickedly handsome in his suit, smiling and greeting people. He talked confidently, with his head held high and always kept his attention on the person speaking, as if he were truly interested in what they were saying.

I could watch him like this all night.

As he spoke and warmed up with some of the guests, I saw an arm go around his waist, and my heart dropped to my stomach when Michaela appeared at his side.