The doorman opens the door, and Avery barely recognizes the hotel lobby. It's only been a few months since she last visited the hotel, but the atmosphere has changed. Dozens of businesspeople and well-dressed tourists crowd the reception area, waiting to check-in.

Across the marble lobby, the ding of the elevator. The doors slide open, and a short-haired woman wearing a crisp, professional skirt suit rushes out.

"Avery," Claire calls. "It's good to see you."

"Claire, it looks like you've done a great job with the place," Avery says. "I barely recognized the hotel—business is booming. You make a good manager."

Claire smiles shyly and says, "Don't make fun of me. I've been doing my best, but I'm not that experienced."

Avery smiles back and puts a hand on her stomach. Claire's sharp eyes dart down, and she purses her lips.

"How long have you been pregnant?" Claire asks.

"Almost four months," she answers.

"Mr. Howel must be very happy," Claire says.

Avery feels blood rush to her cheeks. She thought the news about her divorce from Evan had spread everywhere, but it seems the Howel family has been controlling the tabloids.

"Do you want a tour?" Claire asks. "I haven't changed much, but you might be interested in seeing how everything looks. Do you want to see the restaurant? I'm a bit proud of it."

Avery follows Claire down the hall out onto the patio. Though it's almost summer, cherry blossoms still float on the wind. White embroidered tablecloths cover the tables, and the cherry blossoms drift down onto the pristine linens. It seems like nothing has changed at all.

"Mr. Howel ordered us to keep everything the same," Claire says with a slight blush. "I'm rather proud of this—we've found a special fertilizer that makes the trees bloom year-round. And of course, we keep the settings the same."

They walk onto the patio, and Avery closes her eyes and inhales the sweet scent of the cherry trees. The cool breeze lifts her hair, and for a moment, she forgets everything. Claire clears her throat, snapping Avery back to reality.

"Mr. Howel comes to eat here twice a week," Claire says, pointing at a table near the edge of the patio. "He always sits at that table there."

Avery's heart stops—that's the table she sat at with him many months ago. She knows Evan is a man of habit, but this seems strangely sentimental for him.

"Twice a week?" she asks.

"Yes, he comes here every Wednesday and Friday," Claire says.

Today is Friday, Avery thinks. But I guess it makes sense. If Rebecca is staying here, he'll want to visit her. I just need to leave before he arrives.

"What time does he usually come?" Avery asks.

"It's hard to say," Claire says. "He usually comes in the afternoons or evenings, but he ordered for the whole restaurant to be cleared today."

Avery looks at her watch—it's almost noon. The sooner she can see Rebecca and leave, the better. Hopefully, Evan will come late today.

"Thanks for the tour, Claire, but I think I'm going to go up to the presidential suite now," Avery says. "I don't want to keep my friend waiting."

"The presidential suite?" Claire asks.

"Yes, Mr. Howel's girlfriend is staying there," Avery says.

Claire's eyes widen, and her cheeks blush. She looks down at her shoes and then up at Avery as if she doesn't know what to say. Avery sighs and decides it's too much work to explain the whole story to Claire. Besides, she's running out of time to visit Rebecca and leave before Evan comes.

She says goodbye to Claire and takes the elevator up. She rings the doorbell outside the suite and waits for someone to answer it. After five minutes, a haggard-looking Rebecca comes to the door. She's wearing silk pajamas, and her hair looks unwashed. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes are red and puffy as if she's been crying.

"Oh, Avery," Rebecca says, poised and gracious as ever. "I wasn't expecting you, but welcome."

"Sophie told me you're not going well," Avery says. "I thought I'd come to talk to you."

"That's so thoughtful," she says. "Come in."

Avery follows her into the hotel room, noticing that Rebecca is wearing custom-made Hermes slippers instead of the standard pair offered to guests. Rebecca walks to the small kitchenette and fills an electric kettle with water.

"Thanks again for coming to see me," Rebecca says as she prepares two teacups. "I'm afraid Sophie has worried you for no reason—I'm fine. I just feel guilty about yesterday."

"Oh, I understand why Sophie wanted me to come," Avery murmurs. "It's fine, Rebecca, really."

Rebecca passes her a cup of steaming tea and says, "Forgive me for being so bold, but I think you still blame me."

"I don't blame you," Avery says. "How could you have known what Crystal would do?"

Rebecca nods, but she doesn't look convinced. Avery looks at the girl's red-rimmed eyes, trying to understand why Rebecca keeps blaming herself. Rebecca looks away, staring down into her teacup.

"What about the design?" Rebecca asks, sounding eager to change the subject.

"What do you mean?" Avery asks.

"I really liked your cufflink design," Rebecca says. "Do you think you could finish making them for Evan and me?"

Avery can't believe her ears. Is she crazy? She wonders. After everything, she still wants me to finish the design. Isn't she even a little bit jealous of my relationship with Evan? She tries to look at Rebecca, but the woman's face is a smooth, unreadable mask.

"Sure," Avery says. "I'll finish cufflinks."

"You're so kind, Avery," Rebecca says, taking her hand. "You'd tell me if you were uncomfortable with the situation, right?"

Avery pulls her hand away and stifles a sigh. If I refuse or back out now, Rebecca will think it's because I'm uncomfortable with the situation, she thinks. She'll worry that I still have feelings for Evan.

"It's nothing," Avery says. "In fact, we need the same thing. You need a gift for Evan, and I need work to do. Anyway, we'll be in touch soon."

Avery puts her tea down and gets up to leave. As she nears the door, the doorbell rings again. A horrible sinking feeling begins in the pit of her stomach. She peeks through the glass in the door and sees Robert standing in the hall.

Rebecca opens the door, and Avery comes face to race with Evan's butler. Robert's eyebrows shoot up to the middle of his forehead when he sees her. Avery grabs her purse and tries to step past him, but he's blocking the entire doorway.

"Miss Arlington, the restaurant is ready, and Mr. Howel is waiting for you," Robert says. "I didn't realize you had a visitor."

"Don't worry," Avery says. "I was on my way out."

"Actually, why don't you stay for lunch?" Rebecca asks.

"Are you sure?" Avery asks. "I don't want to intrude."

"Of course," Rebecca says. "Think of it as our way of thanking you for such a beautiful design."

Avery bites her lip. If I didn't know better, I'd think Rebecca is trying to make me uncomfortable, she thinks. She might think she's nice by inviting me to lunch, but at best, it will be incredibly awkward. As she thinks, she shakes her head no.

"Come on, and you're my friend," Rebecca says. "I know it might seem a bit awkward, but I talked to Evan yesterday, and he said he's relieved the truth is out in the open now. I know he won't intentionally do anything to make you uncomfortable."

Oh, so now if I refuse, I'm the petty one, Avery thinks. Rebecca is very clever—she acts as the perfect charming society woman, but she knows how to manipulate people.

"I haven't eaten anything in a while, please come," Rebecca says.

As she speaks, she walks toward the bedroom, disappearing behind a large antique screen. When she reappears, she's wearing a pale green dress, and her hair has been twisted into a simple but elegant bun. She slides a pair of low-heeled sandals on and joins Avery by the door. All traces of redness have disappeared from her eyes. Avery can't believe how quickly she has transformed.

"Have you reminded the restaurant of Evan's allergy to soybeans?" Rebecca asks Robert.

The words hit Avery like a knife. She already knows about his allergies, she thinks. They've only been together a few weeks at most, but she acts like she's known him her whole life.

Avery walks slowly, falling into step with Robert. The butler raises his eyebrows, and Avery glances at Rebecca's thin back.

"Whose idea was it?" Avery asks. "Was this really Rebecca's idea, or did Evan make her invite me?"

Robert looks down at his shoes and says, "Actually, it was Mr. Francis Howel's idea."

"What?" Avery asks.

"The old Mr. Howel loves Miss Arlington," Robert explains. "He heard that she didn't have many friends here, and he ordered Evan to do everything in his power to make her happy."