Claire did not cry. That surprised her. Something inside her had gone very calm, like a door closing softly in another room. She set down her cup, smoothed the front of her dress, and walked across the grass toward Vivian Harlow. Vivian saw her coming. “Mrs. Ward,” she said carefully. “Are you all right?”
Claire almost smiled at the formality. “That depends on which name you know me by.” Vivian’s expression changed. “My maiden name is Ellison,” Claire said. “Claire Ellison.” For the first time all afternoon, Vivian looked genuinely shocked. Her eyes moved from Claire’s face to Darren, then back again. “C. Ellison?” Claire nodded once.
Behind them, Darren was still laughing too loudly with his coworkers, unaware that the ground under his career had begun to crack. Vivian lowered her voice. “You handled Northstar?” “I did.” “You were the consultant?” “Yes.” Vivian took a slow breath. “Does Darren know?” Claire looked back at her husband. He was now mimicking her, pretending to fold laundry while two junior employees laughed awkwardly. “No,” Claire said. “But he’s about to.”