Chapter 52

• Eloise
• I dabbed a drop of foundation beneath my eyes, smudging it in with trembling fingers. My reflection in the bathroom mirror looked composed enough, hair swept into a loose bun, a silk sage blouse tucked into black wide-leg trousers. But under the surface, my veins pulsed with raw dread.
• Mike’s text had come that morning. Small PR dinner. Just you, me, and a potential consultant ally. Think of it as therapy with wine.