But when his eyes found mine across the room, the polished veneer fractured for just a microsecond. Shock. Then the iron control snapped back.

Griffin materialized beside him, his smile already in place. “Well,” he announced, far too loudly over the music. “It seems the ghost actually showed up.”

My father didn’t smile. His eyes dragged over my plain dress, measuring me, filing me away. “Maren,” he said as they approached. “I wasn’t entirely sure Calder’s youthful sentimentality would reach this far into the past.”

I lifted my water glass. “Hello, Alden.”

A woman at the next table gasped at my use of his first name.

Griffin chuckled, shaking his head. “Still relying on theatrics, I see.”