Yael studied herself in the mirror, smoothing the gown her grandmother's seamstress had designed for her. Jeweled red in tone, the color accented the copper highlights in her hair, and the bodice fit tight to her hips, where it flowed to the floor in an elegant sweep. She styled her hair into soft waves, letting it fall past her shoulders, and she noticed excitement dancing in her brown eyes. It was because of Casey, a fact she only acknowledged in the safety of her mind. The jewelry she wore was her mother's tiered diamond necklace. Yesterday, while going through the endless boxes at Miriam's, she'd found her mom's jewelry cases, such a wonderful surprise.

Yael had just finished applying a final coat of lip gloss when her cell rang on the vanity beside her. Reaching for it, she felt an uncomfortable twinge when she noticed Haustin's number.

"Hey," he greeted when she answered.

Her happy mood faded some, and she watched her lips dip into a frown. "Hey, stranger."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "Sorry I haven't been around much. Work."

"It's okay. I mean, I've missed you, but I understand." And she did understand. She saw how out of place he was at Miriam's funeral, how he retreated into himself as the day progressed. "How have you been?"

"Good, good." A quick chuckle passed through the phone. "It shouldn't be this awkward, should it."

"Haustin," she sighed his name.

"Don't sound so down. I am fine, but I guess we should talk sometime, huh?"

"I guess we should." Yael's heart stuttered. Deep down, she knew where they were headed, and she truly hoped they stayed friends in the process. "You've got your friend's party tonight, right?"

"On my way now. I just wanted to say hi."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I hope so." She heard the doubt in his voice, and all she wanted to do was comfort him. "Do me a favor," he said.

"Anything."

"Have fun tonight. Don't worry about work, or Peter, or me. Give yourself a chance to enjoy the entire evening."

"You too, Haustin."

They said goodbye, and she set the phone down, swallowing the lump in her throat. Suddenly exhausted, her shoulders slumped. Haustin filled her with so many conflicting emotions; guilt and joy, promise and caution. Yael needed to decide if he, and what they shared, was enough to fight for or if it was time to acknowledge what had always been there—a gap neither could quite reach across.

The buzzer sounded, causing Yael's skin to tighten with anticipation and every thought of Haustin to flee her mind. She rechecked her reflection, a little surprised by the flush in her cheeks and the flutter in her stomach. Miriam had been laid to rest on Wednesday, only two days prior, and here Yael was about to attend the ballet—with Casey.

As the elevator doors opened and Casey's gaze skimmed her body with everything he felt shining in his stare, warmth radiated through Yael, right to her fingertips, too real to ignore. She owed it to herself to explore the chemistry between them, didn't she?

"That's some dress."

"Thanks. And after all that bitching about wearing a tux, you're looking pretty darn impressive, James Bond."

"Careful, don't fall victim to my dashing alter ego." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't dream it." She heard the lie fall from her lips and flushed with the knowledge it was already too late.

They kept the conversation light and easy during the limo ride to the theater, but Yael couldn't completely erase her anxiety over the public outing so soon. What would people say?

"Stop it."

She flashed him an impish look. "Sorry. I can't help it. I worry I shouldn't be seen at a party already."

"A party your grandmother insisted you attend."

"And it is good for the company," she added reluctantly.

"Screw the company. Just have fun." His remark pulled a chuckle from her. "I'm serious. Stocks are back up. We haven't had any more freak accidents. Peter gave me an off-handed compliment the other day. Your building is coming along great. Life is good."

"What about your dad?"

"Haven't heard from him." Frown lines bracketed Casey's mouth, and Yael stifled the desire to smooth them away with her fingers. "Did you already forget the part about having fun?"

He studied her closely, and Yael felt a magnetic pull towards him. She wondered what it would be like between them, how he kissed, and where he'd put his hands. Would he cup her cheeks or wrap his fingers in her hair? Heat pooled in her belly, and her hand itched to touch his leg, to give him a signal. Thankfully, the limo stopped and snapped her back to reality. Flustered, she fumbled for her purse, only to catch sight of the throngs of media waiting outside, and a strangled whimper escaped her throat. Casey touched her shoulder, and she peered over at him.

"What?"

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes, and thank you." Happiness bloomed inside her, and she shot another unsure glance at the line of reporters.

"You'll be fine. I'm right here. I promise," Casey told her.

And, just like that, her nerves vanished.

As they walked into the theater, through the crowd of photographers, she felt the eyes of every single person. Channeling Miriam, as usual, and keeping Casey's promise close to heart, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. Questions and shouts bounced off her.

"Yael! Is Casey your date?"

"Can you comment on the status of the investigation?"

"Who are you wearing?"

They were shown to their seats, and when the lights went down, all Yael was aware of was Casey's arm pressed against hers and the scent of his cologne, how close his thigh was to her leg. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else, and when the lights came up, Yael glanced around in shock. Had she just spent the last hour fantasizing about his arm? Oh, Lord.

Neither of them spoke until they were walking arm in arm into the post-performance dinner.

"That wasn't near as bad as I thought it would be," he admitted. "I was able to follow the story, which helped. Still not sure why it was about a swan, but it captured my attention."

"It was a great performance," she lied, feeling her face and chest redden. She frowned slightly, stepping closer to him. "Here comes the schmoozing."

The large dining hall was lit by a pair of enormous chandeliers centered over the two-story-tall space. Round tables decorated with white linen and candelabras circled the dance floor, already occupied by a handful of couples. The orchestra was in the balcony, playing as twinkling jewels and plunging necklines mingled with dapper tuxes.

"Would you like to dance?" Casey asked.

Yael glanced around, meeting numerous curious gazes, and her stomach flipped. She wasn't quite ready to be endearing and gracious or share Casey.

"Yes. Let's delay the inevitable a while longer." He led her onto the dance floor and swept her into a waltz. The effortless movement brought a smile to her lips. "I had no idea you knew how to waltz, Mr. Castañeda ."

"Mom made me take lessons when I was a kid." Embarrassment crept into his cheeks. "She said in a city as grand as New York, a man never knew when he might have the opportunity to sweep a beautiful woman around a dance floor."

"Wise."

"She is. She's had a rough time with all Dad's drama, but she's stuck by him, for better or for worse."

"How long have they been married?" Yael asked, intrigued by this peek into Casey's life. He didn't open up often, especially where his family was concerned.

"Forty years."

"She's probably afraid to leave, to be on her own. It takes a lot of strength to start over."

"You speak from experience," he acknowledged. Then his brows furrowed like he was deep in thought. "Are you better? Now?"

She knew he was thinking of the day Miriam died, of her breakdown. Yael tilted her head, remembering how calm he stayed while she ranted and wept in his arms. The song changed, and he pulled her closer.

"You don't have to worry about me," she told him.

"Can't help it."

"It won't happen again."

"You scared the shit out of me, Yael," he said, his words cracking with pain.

It struck her then how strange a conversation it was considering their surroundings—dancing to an orchestra in the middle of New York's elite players. It softened the harshness of the subject.

"Truth is, Casey, if you offered me a gram of heroin right now, I'm not sure what I'd do."

"You'd say no. You're stronger than that. You're amazing."

He raised his hand and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, causing her to shiver. She couldn't help but think about how comfortable she felt in his arms. The pull returned, more expansive this time, and when his lips met hers, her heart soared with joy, as if coming home after being gone for far too long. Casey held her tight, pressing her against him.

A flash broke the spell, and she realized what she'd done in front of everyone.

Yael turned to see a cameraman snapping random pictures of the dancing couples. Seconds later, the music stopped, entirely popping the bubble she'd been in. She spun, catching Casey watching her cautiously.

"I'm not sorry," he said.

She raised trembling fingers to her lips, relishing the way they still tingled. It'd been perfect. He'd been perfect, but a lump caught in her throat.

"I can't."

Turning to leave the dance floor, Casey came up behind her and diverted her to a shadowy corner. Shame mixed with the residual glow, and she found herself unable to meet his stormy gaze longer than a second.

"Talk to me," Casey demanded, his tone gruff.

"I made a promise to be better." He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "Let me finish. I'm not sorry either. I love who I am with you, who you challenge me to be, and I won't lie and tell you I haven't wanted this for a while, even if I tried to deny it. But I made a promise to myself to be better," she repeated. "I have to talk to Haustin first."

"Talk? As in break up with him?" The hope in his words brought a smile to Yael.

"I think it's been headed that way for a while." She paused. "I owe him an explanation."

"And then?"

"What would you like to happen?" she asked him coyly.

He growled. "You know damn well what I want."

Casey leaned in for another kiss to prove his point, knocking her breathless. She pushed him back before she lost herself in it.

"Message received," she panted.

Grinning, Casey pressed his lips to her forehead and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I can be patient. You're worth waiting for."

Tears peppered Yael's eyes, and she blinked them away, words failing her. She reached for his hand, squeezing it, and left him standing there. Her mind, although still foggy from his kisses, drifted to Haustin, and remorse hit her. She hated hurting him, but worse; she was afraid of what would happen to his positive momentum once she told him it was over.

How are we feeling about the inevitable end of Yaustin? Hael?

Or the beginning of Cael?