"Your father isn't fond of some of the policies she pushes, but we really do like Elizabeth," Edie said as she handed him a drink. "Too bad she's married."

Edie had no idea that Elizabeth's marriage hadn't stopped them from getting involved.

Blake felt heat rise in his cheeks. "Mom," he hissed.

"What?" Her bracelet clanked against the wine glass in her hand as she brought it to her lips. "I suppose she is a bit too old for you," she said before she sipped. "Oh, there's Michelle." She touched his arm. "I must ask her about Ryan's engagement."

As soon as his mother stepped away, Meredith took her place beside him.

"Is she tipsy yet?"

Blake took a large swig of white wine. "Getting there."

He tilted his head back, looking up toward the sky. Even through his dark sunglasses, he had to squint because there wasn't a cloud in sight today and the sun was at its peak. And it was hot! Sweat was beginning to build on his brow, his polo was starting to feel too tight, and the thought of jumping into the pool was more appealing than it was an hour ago. He couldn't imagine wearing the long-sleeved dresses some of the women in attendance had chosen to wear.

"I told Dad to dial it up," Meredith said as she pushed a strand of her bronze hair away from her face. "Mom's been on about this feature in Veranda for months now."

Design was Edie Moran's passion. Friends called her for advice instead of hiring a professional because "Edie knows best!" Even he had to admit that the recognition of her talent was a long time overdue.

"Did you see them yesterday?" He asked. "They must have taken hundreds of photographs."

The outdoor area, particularly the patio, was what would be included in the article, but the team from the magazine had taken several photos of rooms inside their home.

"Mom never told me how many invitations had been sent out, but this is bigger than I expected," he said. His eyes swept over the patio. There had to be at least a hundred people here.

"Today's a celebration," his sister told him. Meredith tilted her head to the side, staring at him. "Where's the princess?"

Blake's face went blank.

Had Jenna spoken to her about him and Elizabeth?

"What?" Meredith smiled around the lip of her glass. "You sure treat her like one."

No, he was simply paranoid after the morning in the boathouse. Jenna wouldn't tell a soul, including his own sister, of what she saw. This was just Meredith being Meredith. She still didn't know the half of it.

"If you put this much energy into other areas of your life then you—"

"Other areas?" He asked as he plucked another glass of wine from a table. He left his empty glass in its spot.

"Like your love life," she said. "Or your career."

Being the eldest, she liked to parent.

Blake rolled his eyes as he swallowed down a mouthful.

"Don't beat around the bush, Mer. Say what you mean," he said. "Could you possibly be referring to the company?" Sarcasm dripped from his lips.

Meredith's eyes went wide. "You could have had my job by now if you put in half the amount of work as you do for Elizabeth freaking McCord."

"You sound like Mom," he told her.

Meredith poked his chest with her finger. "Mom isn't always wrong you know." She chuckled. "You think you're so much better than us." Her tone was attracting attention, so he tugged on her arm until she followed him into the grass.

"I moved away." She used the hand that wasn't clutching her wine glass to put air quotes around her words. "I live below my means." Her stare was nasty. "Well guess what. I see the clothes you wear. I see the credit card statements at the end of the month. And I see the money being moved around the accounts!"

"Meredith, I don't want to fight."

She wobbled in her heels. "You always chose her!" Her chest heaved, and… And she lurched forward, dropping her wine glass in the grass, and pressed the heel of her hand to her head.

Blake quickly reached out. "Mer, are you okay?" She was trembling, so he helped her to the stairs.

He asked Mr. Nicholson, who'd witnessed the supposed dizzy spell, to fetch a bottle of water and to locate her husband.

They sat side by side on the bottom step.

"What's going on?" He asked once her breathing had evened. "You only lash out when something's bothering you."

She wrung her hands, reverting to the nervous tics of her teenage years.

"Dad's not doing well," she told him.

"What do you mean?"

"Other than him only being in a somewhat of a pleasant mood after four Manhattans?" She spun her wedding bands around her finger and said, "Frank quit."

Blake's brow pinched.

Certainly, that couldn't be true. Frank Vanderflught has worked with his father for thirty-odd years. He was practically family.

"I don't know what happened. They had some sort of a falling out." Meredith's tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Dad's under a lot of stress." Thus, so was she. "He went up to Boston to see Frank."

"And?"

She shook her head. "He knows things, Blake. What's stopping him from blowing the whistle?"

"Frank's done his fair share of shady acts." He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "He's done things for this family that would send him to prison," he whispered.

Meredith sucked in a breath. "He could send us there too." She sounded panicked. "Immunity deals are how the DOJ attacks big businesses. He could save himself and turn us over. I think he'll tip off the SEC."

"That'll never happen."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I have my kids to think about. And my husband." She touched her wedding bands again. "Did you know that Jacob wants to run for State Representative? Eventually his father's House seat. A campaign trail is already hard enough, but running as a Republican in Connecticut…" She began to cry. "I've had to step up a lot. I know it's not your thing and you have your own life, but—"

Blake grabbed her hands.

"I'll always be here," he told her.

She had to know something, something big to be this panicked. Like their mother, she prided herself in her ability to remain composed, even in the worst of situations. What could she be on about?

"Your father won't like federal agents hanging around the house." He'd made a joke earlier this week because "there's nothing illegal going on here." Jesus. And why were Meredith and the lawyers meeting with Mom at the house before 8 a.m. while Dad was in Boston visiting Frank? "You didn't have to bring your own secrets and lies up the damn coast!"

When Meredith leaned into him, he asked, "I know I've been out of the loop for a long time but is there something I should know?"

She was quiet as she eyed him. "You have to first be in the loop to become out of it."

That's right, when it came to the business, unlike his sister, he didn't know the half of it.

After Mr. Nicholson had returned with a bottle of water and after Jacob had taken his place on the step beside Meredith, he set off to find Elizabeth.

He'd downed another glass or two of Chardonnay before he'd made his way to the garden. Elizabeth was standing near the outer edge, admiring a bed of tulips.

"Hey," he said. "I hope you're in better shape than the other women in my life."

When he'd caught up with his mother, he was sure she'd drank her way through an entire bottle of wine. Bâtard-Montrachet was not only a go-to wine of choice for parties thrown in the warmer months but also one of his mother's favorites. She was bubbly, talkative, and extra touchy. Meredith, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of the hysterical spectrum.

"Not really," Elizabeth mumbled. "Maureen was taken by ambulance back to the hospital."

"I'm sorry. What can I do?"

She flashed a small smile. "You can get me another drink."

His hand found the small of her back as they began to walk up the path that led back to the house.

"How's Henry holding up?" He asked once they'd rounded the corner of the pool house. "It must be so hard."

"I think he's doing okay. He's going to call me once he knows more."

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"If you want to leave early w—"

"No," she said. She turned into him. "There's nothing I could do there but be a bother. It's better if he's alone."

His hand lingered. "You're sure?"

She smiled. "I'm sure."

Maybe it was the lowered inhibitions from the wine, or maybe the emotions Meredith's breakdown had shaken up, but Blake, after glancing toward the patio, leaned in and quickly kissed her.

They were in Connecticut, for God's sake. It was a world away from D.C., away from nosy journalists and politicians with a motive. They were within the gates of his family's estate, among friends and family who had bigger secrets to hide than a lousy affair. And though Jenna was in the know, she was like a sister.

They were safe, so he kissed her again.