Marry the Don, Forget the Man
They wondered if I'd lost my mind.
I stood in the corner with my own champagne flute, my smile fixed so perfectly.
Brian came over, and I touched his arm lightly, leaning in to speak close to his ear. "Let Daisy take the first dance. Tonight is her night."
He looked at me, and I saw surprise in his gaze, followed by approval.
The first notes of the waltz swelled through the conservatory, and Brian led Daisy to the center of the floor.
She wore a champagne‑colored satin gown that rippled like liquid gold under the lights. She gazed up at him, her eyes glistening.