Instead of calling Esme back, Allie went through her contacts and called Evan. It took a few rings before their lines connected. Allie didn't bother to greet him.
"What alibi did you tell your mother last night?" she asked, not wanting to say the wrong thing later. Now that she had decided to continue this charade with Evan, she had to set things straight.
"I told her the food made you sick," his voice was deep, dark, and husky.
There wasn't any noise in the background, so she assumed he was still in his penthouse. It was Sunday, and he didn't need to go to the office unless he had a business trip elsewhere.
"Why did you do that?" There was obvious annoyance in Allie's voice.
It was Esme who handled almost everything at the party. The list of dishes served was all decided by her, and when they talked earlier that night, Esme was very confident about the food served by the chefs she had handpicked. She was even boasting to Allie about it.