Chapter 6

The charity gala at The Plaza was, according to Ethan, "a necessary performance." The board needed to see stability. Which meant they needed to see us. Which was how I found myself in a gown that cost more than six months of my nursing salary — emerald silk, empire waist hiding the bump at fourteen weeks — staring at my reflection beside a man who looked like he'd been forged specifically to wear a tuxedo. "You look—" Ethan appeared behind me in the mirror, adjusting his bow tie. Stopped. "Acceptable?" "That's...