Nancy stood in the entry and dragged her gaze over everything within her radius in slow, sharp-eyed focus, searching for any sign of imperfection. Her mouth was a firm line as she crossed to the white flower arrangement on the pedestal table and shifted two flowers to make it more symmetric.
She knew that the precise balance of a flower arrangement wasn't worth worrying about, but she couldn't help it; as casual as the party had been when they first began planning it, it still represented a massive transition in their relationship.
Ned had bought the house cheap almost a year ago, thanks to his father's connections in real estate, and had started fixing it up soon after. It had been in mild disrepair, not updated for fifty years, and the carpets and walls had been in dire need of something new. Ned had asked for Nancy's input, and she hadn't thought anything of it; even she had bought into the foolish stereotype that her being a woman meant she was naturally better at such things. Ned's father helped people flip houses. Ned hadn't needed her input on wall paint colors or lighting fixtures. Half the time, she had thought that Ned really had bought the place as an investment, another one of his plans to earn some extra cash.
And so she had gone for classic over modern when asked, but oh, she had moaned with envy over some of their choices, before she had understood what his plans truly were. Gorgeous dark-stained cabinets in the kitchen and bathrooms, with a coordinating marble for the sinks. A lovely master suite on the upper floor, absolutely glorious with the light streaming in, although the blinds he had installed meant the owner wouldn't have to see it if he didn't want to. Spacious closets, comfortable seating—his home had it all, and she had sighed, full of longing, during the tour he gave her of his house, proud of all that had been done, and proud that she had had a hand in it. It was a home meant for a couple, a family.
Then, in front of the roaring fireplace, alone together and drifting in the sweet silent companionship that their long relationship had given them, he had gotten down on one knee and looked up at her.
She hadn't needed to hear the question; just the expression on his handsome face had been enough, love and fear and longing and terrible anticipation. Her heart had been beating wildly, a lump of tears stinging in her throat, as she had nodded, then gasped at his reveal of the ring, a gorgeous silver band set with an exquisite diamond. As soon as she had plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger, Ned had wrapped his arms around her in a tight, breathless hug.
This was the first party they were holding together, in his new home. Their new home. First party as an engaged couple. And boy, did Nancy know how curious people could be.
"I would tell you to relax, but…"
She smiled. "Pointless," she told him, closing her eyes and leaning back against him for a few seconds when he slid his arms around her from behind. His broad, muscular chest was warm and reassuring behind her.
That was the other thing. Ned lived here, and now she did, too. He had wanted her opinion not only because she would be his wife, but also because he had expressed his intense desire for them to be together now instead of waiting. And when he had put it like that, well… it had just made so much sense.
The house still felt like a dream. Like it wasn't real, it couldn't be, it couldn't truly be theirs. They had no Hannah to coordinate meals and handle all the household responsibilities. Nancy still felt absurdly like she was underdressed if she wasn't wearing a matched sweater set and kitten heels for making breakfast. Lounging beside him on the plush overstuffed couch in the evenings, fire crackling behind the screen, wearing a henley and sweatpants, made her feel ridiculously decadent—like they were housesitting, really. Like they were temporarily enjoying this sophisticated oasis and would have to return to their real lives and actual homes at some point. She had felt the same disorientation that waking up jet-lagged in a hotel gave her the first morning she had opened her eyes in his bed.
Their bed.
She had grown comfortable with pretending to be an adult, posing as different people during her cases. But it had always been an act, a temporary face she was putting on.
She wondered how long it would take before the persona felt natural, like it truly was a part of her instead of something she was faking badly.
Nancy had handled dinner parties entertaining politicians, activists, and prominent clients for her father, with Hannah's perpetual help, but she still had butterflies in her stomach. Maybe the popular thing this season was a particular cheese ball from an independently operated deli on the other side of town and she just didn't know it. Maybe crackers and cheese were seen as terribly passé unless an expensive wedge of aged Brie was included. Maybe she should have pushed for an ice sculpture.
Maybe she should have refused when Ned had requested pizza bites, the one snack he had insisted on for the party. Squares of pillowy dough topped in rich sauce, melted cheese, and pepperoni bits lined one tray. Ned had taste-tested one and pronounced it excellent.
The doorbell rang. Nancy immediately reached up to smooth her hair, glancing down at her dress. The abstract floral print was done in bright, cheerful colors, but the hem swept the floor, providing enough drama for her to pull it off as party hostess. That was Bess's opinion, anyway. Nancy had just been pleased that the drape of the full skirt would allow her to kick someone in the chin if needed, a quality that George had wholeheartedly approved. Her hair was silk-smooth, half clipped back, falling down to her shoulder blades, and small sapphires winked from her star-shaped earrings. She had gone with subtle makeup; for anything more, she usually consulted Bess.
When Nancy glanced over and caught Ned adjusting his collar, she couldn't help smirking. At least she wasn't the only one feeling nervous. As he almost always did, Ned looked sophisticated and charming, utterly breathtaking in his slacks and open-collar shirt. The muted green was a perfect complement to his dark eyes and hair.
"It's gonna be fine," he told her. "It is."
She shook her head. "Probably," she agreed.
"Oh my God! Hi! I cannot wait to see everything!" Bess cried on entrance, throwing her arms open for a hug. "Honey, you look gorgeous. Ned, you know I'm still waiting on your bad-boy twin. This place is incredible."
The doorbell rang every thirty seconds after, and soon the house was full of people and laughter and conversation, with clusters gathered in the gorgeous kitchen and living room. The party soundtrack was that of a video game that Ned and several of his fraternity brothers had loved, and while she had initially wanted to veto the choice, she had to admit that it was pretty great, and oddly fitting. She was miraculously relaxing by slow degrees, but she still wasn't there yet.
"Are these fixtures original?"
Nancy smiled as she went to the kitchen to grab another stack of napkins. Several of Ned's friends had brought six-packs, and the second cooler was already overflowing, but people were practically pulling beers out as soon as they were added now. Hannah's contribution to the spread of finger food, very cute mini-croissants stuffed with chicken salad, was a hit, and she saw more than one person come back for seconds of the pizza. She knew Ned would love that.
"Fondue next time," Ned called to her, as he ushered another group through.
Nancy laughed and shook her head. Fondue. She could honestly say she had never done that.
She had just headed out to the front steps to wave to a guest who was just lost enough to not quite find their house when she spotted someone else heading up the walk from the shining perimeter of haphazardly parked cars. Behind her, the windows were ablaze with light, the warmth and bubbling laughter of the gathered crowd boisterous and welcoming.
And yet, her stomach, her arms, her ears were suddenly cold despite the warm spring night.
The blonde on his arm wasn't Callie, Nancy realized. Callie had a girl-next-door quality that Nancy had always found appealing. No, this girl wore a tight dress that ended an inch below her crotch, the sides ruched, with glittery embellishments at the décolletage and hem. She flipped a stick-straight platinum lock over her tanned shoulder, showing off long, flawless baby-pink nails.
Her arm was tucked through—
Well. His gaze was already locked to Nancy's face by the time she met it, and his lips were parted in a grin.
She couldn't imagine that Ned had invited him, given everything, but when she considered it for a second, it actually did make some sense. Ned had a great house, a new fiancée, wonderful prospects. He was proud of what he had achieved, and she was too.
Nancy had never considered herself any sort of prize to be won or territory to be conquered. She wasn't Ned's arm candy and would have enjoyed quietly showing up anyone who thought she couldn't hold her own.
But, for a split second, she understood. She understood the kind of pleasure Ned would likely have felt if this particular guest had arrived to find Nancy on Ned's arm, or, even better, locked in a passionate embrace with him.
And then, as though invoked by her imaginings, Ned appeared, and had just drawn a breath to address her when he let it out in a surprised sigh.
So. This hadn't been his doing, either.
Her hand was suddenly enveloped by his, and they gripped each other hard, ready as they could be.
--
"Keep going. Hell. No, I don't remember what color the shutters are. Hang on…"
Bess made beaming apologies as she edged around the perimeters of grouped guests, heading toward the door with her phone to her ear. The street parking was spilling over, and no one was familiar enough with Ned's new address to know the house on sight, and she couldn't remember enough about the exterior to confirm Taylor was at the right place. For all she knew, Taylor had mistaken the other house party at the end of the block for this one.
Bess found the front door already partially open, and tugged on the handle. The lantern above the front steps glowed a warm yellow-orange.
And—
She had just caught sight of Taylor's SUV and was raising her arm to signal to her when her brain caught up with what else she had just seen.
Ned and Nancy were standing on the front steps. Ned's arm was wrapped around Nancy's waist. And Frank Hardy was walking up the path, with a date on his arm.
A garbled sound escaped Bess's throat, and she managed to stifle it enough to silence it. Taylor waved from the driver's seat and gestured, and Bess nodded.
Nancy and Ned—well, Bess wasn't sure if Frank's sudden appearance had shocked them both into speechlessness, or what. For her part, Bess took a deep breath and put a smile on her face.
"Congratulations!" Frank said, and held up his other hand. The bag was wrapped around the contours of the wine bottle within.
"Thanks," Nancy said, and while her voice was polite, it wasn't warm. Bess nearly raised her eyebrows.
"Come on in," Ned said, and his voice was a touch warmer, but Bess had known him a long time. There was a note in it. Not insincerity, not quite, but the heartiness of a baited trap.
"Joe come with you?" Bess asked, her smile still intact, once Frank was climbing the front stairs.
"He had to run an errand first," Frank said, and returned her smile. "Good to see you."
Bess nodded, smiling, but didn't return the sentiment. She was deeply curious about all this, given everything, and practically bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited for Taylor's arrival.
And unless Callie had had a significant amount of plastic surgery, and somehow managed to lose a couple of inches of height, the girl on Frank's arm wasn't her.
Bess wouldn't exactly have blamed Callie for dumping Frank. She had seen close up how single-minded detective work could absolutely destroy relationships. Ned and Nancy had figured out how to pick their way through the minefield via a lot of painful trial and error, and had finally come out the other side stronger than ever. This house, that ring on Nancy's finger, proved it.
But there was a look in Frank's eye. As though he hadn't expected a warm welcome. Maybe he hadn't even been invited.
And even as close as she and Nancy were, Nancy hadn't yet found the words to tell Bess what had happened with Frank in Lisbon. George had been there, but would only say "that has definitely not scabbed over yet" when asked about it.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Bess murmured, then let out an excited squeal once Taylor was in earshot.
--
Frank let the genial flow of guests carry him through the living room into the kitchen and couldn't help cracking a grin once he was among only strangers, his date having drifted off with a murmured excuse about finding the bathroom.
He had seen the look on Nancy's face.
She was remembering. Remembering him, and all the exciting times they had shared. Remembering the way he was sure she still felt about him. Once he had found out about the party, he'd tried to talk himself out of it, but the opportunity had just been so perfect. Remind her of what they had been together, and show her that despite this—
Frank had to admit the house was nice. Tastefully decorated, with some sturdy vintage pieces, mirrors, subtle lighting. Every surface wasn't a cluttered tableau of memorabilia. Idly he wondered where her vanity wall was, or would be. Surely she would proudly display the framed photos of herself shaking hands with dignitaries and politicians, showing off the prizes that her cases had won her.
Because she was so much more than… this. Anyone could have a beautifully restored, well-appointed home in a nice neighborhood. She just wouldn't be safe and bored in Ned's bed for six nights out of seven, he would bet.
This wasn't her. This wasn't quite a gilded cage, it was more subtle than that, but the allure would fade quickly. She would want excitement, the kind of excitement that Frank could provide.
And he knew she did, because she hadn't mentioned the restraining order.
He had just snagged a beer from the cooler and taken his first pull when George materialized from the crowd. She was smiling, and Frank returned her smile as he mentally chalked up another in the "yes" column. He'd never been sure whether to treat George as an ally in this or not, especially after—that—but he wouldn't turn it down.
"Last I heard, you were being detained in Lithuania," George said, still smiling as she reached for her own beer.
Frank shrugged. "Just a little misunderstanding," he replied, his tone casual.
She nodded. "Of course. Joe here?"
"He'll be along soon."
George nodded again. "And who's the lucky girl who came in with you tonight? New girlfriend?"
Frank took another swig of beer before nodding, realizing that she definitely should have been back from the bathroom by now. Although, if something had happened to her…
"Yeah. And, speaking of, I really should see what happened. Maybe she got lost."
George nodded. "Let me come with."
It wasn't lost on Frank that George was keeping a close eye on him, though he did manage to snag the last pizza bite as he checked the refreshments area for his date. With George's help he also checked out the closest bathroom, with no luck.
"Hmm. Maybe something came up and she had to leave suddenly," George said, glancing over at Frank.
Maybe she had, although Frank had checked his phone and saw no messages from her, so that was frustrating. Maybe an emergency, though.
Maybe one of his enemies had followed him here, and even now, his date was in the trunk of a car…
Frank's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, Bess!"
Frank turned to see Nancy's other best friend—he had caught a few glimpses of Nancy through the crowds of guests at the party, though he hadn't been able to get close enough to start a conversation—and realized that his date and Bess had been animatedly discussing something. Bess's cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes were dancing.
If he were a more suspicious person, he would have called that expression… almost wicked.
"Don't Destiny's nails look absolutely fab?" Bess demanded, and Destiny let Bess take her hand to extend it toward George. "Just flawless. I had to ask what her secret was."
"Of course you did," George agreed, with only the faintest hint of sarcasm. "Destiny, I'm George. Pleasure to meet you."
George and Destiny shook hands, and Frank glanced between them, trying not to meet Bess's gaze.
"I was also dying to know how Destiny met our old pal Frank here," Bess told George earnestly, though her eyes were… a little too wide, Frank thought. "And they apparently just met. Like an hour ago."
George raised her eyebrows. "I guess when you meet the right one, you just know, huh?"
Destiny smiled and flipped a wing of platinum blonde hair over her shoulder. "I guess you do," she said, gazing directly at Frank.
Just then, a series of heavy knocks sounded from the foyer, and George almost released a sigh. "Let me just get that, stay here," she told Frank, striding in that direction as the blue lights strobed over the front of the house.
--
Ned sighed as he toed his shoes off. "Well, you know what they say," he told Nancy. "Is it even a Nancy Drew party if no one is arrested?"
Nancy shook her head and chuckled as she slid her arms up over his shoulders. "It's probably for the best if I try to cut down on that," she mused. "You know, once we're married and everything."
"And disappoint our guests?" Ned shook his head in mock disapproval.
Nancy laughed, and glanced over when her phone vibrated. Then she grinned at the message preview. Off Ned's questioning look, she replied, "I sent George a gift card for going above and beyond."
"She definitely did."
"I feel like I could do laps around the block, and like I'm about to pass out," she sighed.
"Some energy to burn, sweetheart?"
She nodded and locked her gaze to his. "Think you might be able to help me with that?"
"God, I hope so."
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, another vintage piece his mother had found, with a storage headboard and newly rewired lamps. The sage green comforter set off the old stained wood perfectly, and best of all, the door had been locked throughout the party; no guests had been in to rubberneck or leave any mysterious bodily fluids anywhere.
"So did you really say that his date…"
"Destiny is an escort," Nancy confirmed, as her sandals fell to the floor. She was wriggling out of her dress, and he tossed it over the chair at the bedside for her, the spill of flowers cascading down the fabric. "I think she and Bess are having coffee tomorrow."
"Bess looking for a career change?"
Nancy shrugged. "I think they just really hit it off."
Ned tipped his head in acknowledgement. "How long do you think the cops'll hold him?"
"Don't know. Dad's already looking into what our next steps should be."
Ned sighed and sat down on the bed beside her, watching her tug her bra off. "At least…"
She caught what he was thinking and nodded. "Could have been so much worse," she agreed. "I didn't invite him."
"And you know I sure as hell didn't."
Nancy laughed, reaching for him. She swung one knee over his lap and sat down, working on his buttons. "Will it all always feel surreal?" she murmured, then met his warm gaze.
"All this?"
She nodded. "I've never been a grown-up before."
Ned laughed quietly, then leaned forward to brush the tip of his nose against hers. "Me either. Why start now?"
She paused in her removal of his shirt to release a warm laugh. "You have a mortgage," she said, still laughing. "You may have reached peak grown-up. Do you think the monocle is also required? A butler?"
Ned pretended to ponder. "Only if Jason Momoa's available."
Nancy raised an eyebrow.
"Bess always says she's waiting for my bad-boy twin."
Nancy rolled off him, convulsing with laughter until her eyes were streaming. Ned couldn't help it; he joined in too.
"Okay. So Bess wants a guy as sweet, charming, drop-dead gorgeous, and strong as you are, but you're claimed. And… speaking of… you invited him in." She raised her eyebrows.
He nodded. "Needed to keep him close by until the cops came."
"You didn't pick him up and throw him down the front steps."
Ned smiled. "You know what he would have done? Picked himself up, dusted off, then walked around to the back and fucked up the flower beds my mom spent so long helping us put together. Muddy footprints on the windowsill. Just…" Ned gestured broadly. "So much shit to fix after he'd blundered through it, and he would have felt like I felt threatened by him, which I absolutely don't. He's not worth it."
Nancy smiled, too. "You helped pick up the pieces a few dozen times."
"And that was my fault. Taking responsibility every now and then would have been a good lesson for him. Not to mention…" Ned shook his head.
"What?"
"His date."
Nancy covered her face with her hands, realized she really needed to take off her makeup, and headed for the attached bathroom. Her bare feet sank into the plush pile of the rug in front of the vanity, and she smiled into the warm golden light before splashing water on her face. "What about his date?"
Ned reached for his toothbrush and leaned over the other sink. "He wanted you to be jealous."
Nancy gaped, spat out a mouthful of water, and finished scrubbing her face clean before turning to him in wide-eyed shock. "No."
"Absolutely."
She reached for the cloth and meticulously dried her skin. "Jealous. Of Destiny?"
"Yes."
"Bess went over to her and said 'You're making him double-bag it, right?' And she said that was definitely more than he'd prepaid."
It was Ned's turn to laugh, as he spat out a mouthful of lather. "How incredibly pitiful."
Nancy pushed her underwear down and tossed them in the direction of the hamper. "I don't know," she said. "—No, I do know, and yes, it is. I'm done with him, and you know that. But I also know that if I saw you, in this house, engaged to someone else, I wouldn't be above some ridiculous grand gesture."
Ned snorted. "I doubt it would involve crashing the housewarming party on an escort's arm."
Nancy considered. "Well, Jason Momoa probably has many hobbies…"
Ned chased her back to bed as Nancy shrieked with laughter, and by the time she had stopped laughing, she was on her back and Ned was smiling down at her.
"Happy housewarming, baby."
"We'll just burn some sage tomorrow and he won't be able to cross the threshold again," she told him, sliding her arms up over his shoulders. "Maybe some well-placed salt circles."
"And that's the last time we'll talk about him here," Ned vowed, leaning down for a long, deep kiss.
"Thank God," she murmured, and wrapped her legs around him too.