Marise watched Kathleen’s face glow with a mix of pride and humility. "I still have a long way to go," Kathleen said. "But it works."
"You should be very proud," Eve said, glancing at Marise. "She’s remarkable, isn’t she?"
Marise met Eve’s eyes and smiled. "I think so."
Eve gestured to a waiter who came over with a tray of drinks. She waited until they had all taken a glass then plucked a flute of champagne off for herself. "What do you do, Veronica?"
"Consulting," Marise said smoothly. "Mostly compliance and project coordination."
Eve tilted her head slightly. "That sounds like a good match. Supporting someone like Kathleen takes more than admiration—it takes someone who understands the pressure."
"I do my best," Marise replied.
"Well, whatever you’re doing, keep at it," Eve said with a quiet nod. "I’ve known too many brilliant women who were forced to walk alone. It’s good to see someone at her side."
Kathleen appeared visibly moved. "Thank you. That means more than you know."
Eve looked at Kathleen, her gaze thoughtful. "You’ll find tonight interesting," she said. "A lot of eyes are on you, but don’t let that upset you. You’ve done something wonderful for the institute and they’re all in awe of you. Now I’d better mingle, dear. Enjoy yourselves."
With that, she turned and melted back into the crowd.
Marise touched Kathleen’s arm lightly. "Are you okay?"
Kathleen exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Getting there. George intimidates me, but I’ve always liked Eve. As a scientist in her own right, she knows the pressures and the loneliness."
"Well, you’re not alone anymore," Marise said.
They clinked their glasses. "To keeping it together," Kathleen said.
"To knocking them dead," Marise replied.
They shared a brief smile, the kind that held too much for words.
Kathleen looked over Marise’s shoulder and her expression changed. “It’s my parents,” she whispered.
Marise turned to look. A stylish woman entered the room, then stopped to scan the crowd. There was no mistaking who she was. She had the same blond hair, same feminine features—an older version of Kathleen. Behind her, a solid, handsome man paused near the threshold to search the room.
Kathleen straightened and gave a little wave. Her mother made a beeline toward her with her father trailing behind.
Marise took a slow breath. Showtime.
As they approached, Kathleen stepped forward. “Hi Mom, Dad.”
“Kathleen,” her mother said. “You look blooming. It was nice of George and Eve to put this party on for you. We’re so proud of you, dear.”
Her father came forward and gave her a bear hug. “Well done, kiddo.”
Kathleen stepped back, blushing. “This is my friend, Veronica Lane. These are my parents Rhonda and John Knowles.”
Rhonda’s mouth sagged slightly before she said warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Veronica.”
Marise smiled. “It’s my pleasure.”
John Knowles stepped in and shook her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Veronica.”
Kathleen blushed. “Veronica agreed to be my plus one for the night.”
“Well,” Rhonda said, her voice light but tinged with meaning, “we’re glad you brought her. It’s an important night.”
