Table One at the Rangers Foundation gala is the only table that matters. Owners, captain, captain's wife. I'd put Marcus next to me. I checked it at six.

At seven-thirty, his card was across the table. Next to Celeste Vandermeer.

Celeste touched his wrist when she laughed. Old money doesn't touch anybody by accident.

I smiled through the salad course. I smiled through the auction. I smiled when the owner's wife leaned over and said, “Brave of you, sweetheart.”

Then I checked the planner's copy. The handwriting on the change wasn't Celeste's. It was my husband's.

At dessert, Marcus stood up, kissed my cheek, and said he'd see me at home. Celeste's chair was already empty.

I know what it looks like. But Celeste's husband left ten minutes later — with the owner's wife. So who was the card really for?