“Harper,” he said.

“Connor.”

Paige leaned against him and placed one manicured hand on his chest. “Hi, Harper.” Her voice dripped with artificial sympathy. “It’s so brave of you to come tonight.”

Sarah inhaled sharply. Harper touched her friend’s wrist before Sarah could respond. “This is a charity gala, Paige,” Harper said. “Not a battlefield.

Attendance requires an invitation, not courage.”

Paige’s smile tightened. Connor sighed as though Harper had disappointed him. “We came over to be civil,” he said. “There’s no reason this has to be uncomfortable.”

“You brought your mistress to an event where half the room received our wedding invitations.”

“Former mistress,” Paige corrected. “We’re together now.”

Harper’s heart hammered, but her face stayed still. Connor glanced at the people around them. He wanted an audience for his patience. “Things end,” he said.

“Adults move forward. I’m glad to see you’re keeping busy instead of isolating yourself.”

The cruelty was expertly hidden beneath concern. It was one of Connor’s favorite tricks — cut a person, then criticize them for bleeding.

“I’ve always been busy,” Harper replied.