schedule before I did. I watched you look for her when you entered rooms.”
“Claire—”
“And every time I tried to talk to you, you made me feel embarrassing for noticing.”
A fleeting change crossed his expression.
“That,” I said, “is the part I don’t forgive.”
“I never meant to make you feel—”
“You didn’t care how I felt.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then tell me what I drank at the winter gala.”
He blinked as if the questions were unreasonable.
“What?”
“The Prescott Foundation gala. December. What did I drink?”
