I did not reach for a napkin. I did not apologize for the mess soaking into my own dress, the way Bridget expected. Instead, I turned, calm as still water, and caught Gerald Whitmore’s eye across the VIP section. I gave him a small nod. The one he had been waiting for all evening. Not yet had just become now. He set down his drink, straightened his jacket, and began walking toward us, and the acting CEO of Meridian Systems does not cross a gala floor for a coat girl.

Adrian noticed him coming and beamed, certain Whitmore was returning to seal his promotion. “Sir,” Adrian said, “I hope you enjoyed the pitch.” But Whitmore walked straight past him, straight past Bridget with her hand still over her smirking mouth, and stopped in front of me. Then, in a voice loud enough for the surrounding investors to hear, he said the words that stopped the entire ballroom. “Chairman. I am so sorry. Are you all right? Shall I have the hotel bring you a change of clothes?”