The invitation arrived on a Tuesday, encased in a thick, cream-colored envelope that smelled faintly of money.

The Apex Global Solutions Annual Gala.
Venue: The Hotel Grand Meridian.

Leo brought it home like a trophy hunter returning with a kill. He dropped it on the marble island of our kitchen, his eyes bright with a manic energy I hadn’t seen in months.

“This is it, Mara,” he said, loosening his tie. “Rick Salazar is announcing the new Vice President tonight. It’s between me and Jenkins. But Jenkins doesn’t have the numbers. I have the numbers.”

He paced the kitchen, talking about the elite investors, the board members flying in from Tokyo and London, the cameras that would be broadcasting the keynote.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said, and I meant it. Despite the distance between us, I wanted him to win. I wanted his hunger to finally be sated. “The Grand Meridian is beautiful. I haven’t been there since before the accident.”

Leo stopped pacing. The silence that followed was sudden and loud.

“Right,” he said, turning his back to me to pour a glass of water. “It’s a nice venue.”

“I should check my closet,” I mused, rolling my chair toward the hallway. “I have that black gown, but maybe it’s too somber? I was thinking… maybe the red one? The one I bought last year but never wore?”

Leo turned around slowly. “What?”