Avery looks away from Evan's venomous gaze and whispers, "I'm sorry Rebecca, I just remembered I have to do something at home. I'm afraid I have to leave now."

Rebecca bites her lip and looks between them, "Wait, do you two know each other?"

"No, I don't know her," Evan says, his voice cold and flat.

Avery stands and gives Rebecca a quick hug. Her heart hammers in her chest, and she feels Evan's eyes on her, judging her every move. Rebecca's face is pale with worry, but she's too polite to force Avery to stay.

"I'm sorry to see you go," Rebecca says.

Avery nods and rushes into the hallway, desperate to get as far from Evan as possible. She can hear Rebecca and Evan following her into the hallway, and she fights the urge to run out the front door. She kicks the slippers off and fumbles for her shoes, trying to slide her feet in as quickly as possible.

The front door opens, and closes and Avery jumps. Robert is standing two feet away from her, looking down with a strange expression. She stops trying to buckle the strap on her left shoe and stares at him in surprise.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Miss Peters," Robert says. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I have to go," she says, bending over to fix her shoe.

Evan and Rebecca arrive in the entryway, and Avery feels panic wash over her. Every time Evan enters a room, all the air seems to leave it. She feels her face get hot, and her fingers feel thick and clumsy as she tries to put her shoes on. In a fit of frustration, she leaves the strap unbuckled and stands up.

"You won't get far," Robert says. "The roads are all closed."

"I'm sure I can find another route," Avery says.

Robert exchanges a glance with Evan and says, "I doubt it. Don't you hear the sirens? There's been a murder nearby—a horrible one based on my intelligence. No one will be able to enter or exit the neighborhood."

As if his words are the cue, sirens begin to wail in the distance. They get closer and louder until everyone in the room is pressing the palms of their hands over their ears. Evan ignores the noise, turns his back on them all, and walks back into the living room.

"Avery, stay and have dinner," Rebecca shouts. "You can't leave now—it's not safe."

Avery sighs and nods. She follows Rebecca back to the kitchen, trying to ignore the brooding figure on the living room sofa. But it's impossible to forget his presence. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him flip through an evening newspaper.

Rebecca clears her throat and says, "Avery? Do you hear me?"

"Huh? What?" Avery asks. "I'm sorry my mind was somewhere else."

"I was just saying that I'm sorry," Rebecca says. "I honestly had no idea that my boyfriend would come tonight."

"Oh well, I'm sorry you can't have a private dinner with him," Avery says. "I guess I'm sort of ruining the romance."

Rebecca laughs and shakes her head, but her eyes look a little sad. She's arranging Evan's plate, and her long graceful fingers dance around the counter. She piles greens on the bottom, then slides the thickest, nicest piece of salmon on top. She adds three tomato roses and sprinkles herbs and seasonings on the fish.

Next, to Rebecca, she feels clumsy and useless. Jealous tears well in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. I wish I could hate Rebecca, but I just can't, she thinks. She seems kind and friendly, and thoughtful. Besides, I have no right to be so jealous—I'm with Andrew.

She repeats the sentence to herself like a mantra: I have no right to be jealous. I have no right to be jealous. But it doesn't work. I thought Evan was different, she thinks. He always told me I was unlike other women. When he made love to me on the ship, I thought he still had feelings for me, but for all, I know he was just pretending I was Rebecca. More tears fall down her cheek, but she's too slow to wipe them away.

Rebecca wipes her hands on a towel and gently grabs Avery's shoulder, "Avery, are you okay?"

"Hmm, yes, of course," Avery says. "It's just the onion. Fresh chopped onion always makes me tear up."

Rebecca runs across the kitchen and returns with a tissue. Avery takes it and tries to force a grateful smile. Why is she so nice to me? Avery wonders. Is it possible she doesn't know I'm Evans ex-wife? I guess she wouldn't invite me to stay for dinner if she knew.

Avery chews her lip and thinks about it. Evan hates publicity, and he tries to keep his pictures out of the press. In the time they were married, she can only think of a few occasions when he was in the newspapers and tabloids. Thanks to tabloid columnists and Leonie, almost everyone in the country knows Avery's name, but until recently, very few had seen her picture.

If Rebecca grew up in another country, I guess it's possible she's never seen my picture or heard my name, Avery thinks. She doesn't strike me as the type to read gossip magazines or pay attention to paparazzi photos.

"Please forgive Evan," Rebecca says. "He's probably just exhausted by work."

"It's alright," Avery says, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.

"Can you help me bring the plates to the table?" Rebecca asks.

Avery grabs a serving platter with mushrooms and truffles, "Of course."

"Oh no," Rebecca wails, stopping Avery. "There's oil all over your skirt."

Avery looks down and sees a dark blot on her blue skirt. That's what I get for eavesdropping on Rebecca, she thinks. The oil splattered all over me, and I didn't even notice.

"Let me get you a new one," Rebecca offers.

"No, it's fine," Avery says. "Where's the bathroom? I'll go clean it myself."

Rebecca points down the hall, and Avery rushes away as fast as she can. She shuts the bathroom door behind her and breathes a sigh of relief. She splashes cold water at her face and stares at herself in the mirror. She looks pale and sallow. She leans down and splashes more water on her face. When she straightens up, her eyes meet Evan's in the mirror.

"How did you get in?" she asks.

"It's my house," Evan says.

"So, what do you want?" Avery asks. "It's hardly appropriate for you to sneak into the bathroom with your ex-wife at your girlfriend's house."

Evan smirks and looks her up and down. Her heart hammers in her chest, and she wonders if it's loud enough for him to hear. Her face is still wet, and she grabs a towel off the rack and blots it dry. When she moves the towel, he's just inches away.

"I swear I didn't know she was your girlfriend," she says. "When I got the assignment to design the cufflinks, I had no idea they were for you."

Evan leans in and puts his hand on the mirrored medicine cabinet behind her. She backs up into the sink, and he leans down until his nose is less than an inch from hers. His hot breath brushes her face, and she shivers. She closes her eyes and tilts her face up to meet him.

He laughs loudly and coldly, and she opens her eyes. He pulls a watch out of the medicine cabinet behind her and starts to fasten it around his wrist. His eyes are cold and hard and filled with disgust.

"My God, Avery, did you actually think I was trying to kiss you?" he asks. "Have you forgotten that you're marrying Andrew? Really, you need to control yourself around other men. But since you clearly can't, I want to make myself clear—you need to stay away from my girlfriend and me."

Her stomach churns, and her eyes fill with ashamed tears. He looks down at her and his mouth curls into a frown. Her heart is still pounding in her chest, and she hates her body's betrayal. Even though he looks at her with disgust, she wants to reach out and stroke the smooth skin of his cheek.

"Evan, Avery," Rebecca calls. "Dinner is ready."

Evan finishes fastening the watch and takes a step back. The air around her is filled with his intoxicating smell, and she inhales greedily. His hand darts out, and his warm fingers slowly slide up her arm, pushing her shirt sleeve up. He stops and traces her turquoise tattoo.

"Aren't you ashamed for your fiancé to see that?" Evan asks.

She looks down at the blue initials on her pale skin. She covers the tattoo with her hand and glares up at him.

"Aren't you worried about what your girlfriend thinks of yours?" she asks.

"Why do you think I still have it?" he asks in a low voice.