Henry’s hand was still warm on Andrea’s lower back when he returned from the quiet corner where he’d pulled his mother aside. The tension in his shoulders had eased a fraction, but his jaw was still tight. Eleanor had walked away with that same polished smile, yet the air around them felt thinner now, like the whole rooftop was holding its breath.

Andrea tried to focus on the little plate of shrimp cocktails Mindy had thrust into her hands. “Eat something before you pass out from all that staring,” Mindy had ordered. “The crab puffs are actually decent. Rich people know how to cater.”

Andrea poked at a canapé, her...