I knew several pairs of eyes were watching me. Curious, baffled, judging eyes. Because of this, my spine was straighter, my walk sassier, my face devoid of any emotion.
Inside, I was anything but.
I could hear the whispers.
Who is she?
Look at that ring Caleb gave her! And that necklace! Fabulous.
Strafford? Is her family in the same hotel business as the Lockharts? Real estate? Which company do they own?
Look at her dress. Her shoes. I don’t think her family owns anything worthwhile. This one was followed by mocking, condescending giggles that two women tried to stifle when I passed.
I ignored them. The champagne they were sipping cost more than my whole outfit. So what? If I let that bother me, I’d be running from here with my tail between my legs. My mother had taught me better than that.
Caleb deserved more than that.
I deserved more than that.
So I made sure to wear an I-dare-you smile on my lips.
“I hope you’re having a lovely evening so far.”
Caleb’s mom practically glided over in a conservative and gorgeous royal-blue dress, hair and makeup perfect, polite smile in place.
“Mrs. Lockhart.” My voice cracked.
She was still Mrs. Lockhart, right? I knew Caleb said his parents were divorced…but was it final yet? He didn’t like talking about it so I’d never asked.
Why didn’t I ask? Oh God.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I am. Good evening, ma’am. I’m Veronica.”
“I remember.”
Her tone was courteous, but I sensed that it was loaded with meaning. Was she thinking about that first time we met in jail?
With growing horror, I wondered if she remembered that time when I was sitting outside her son’s flat, waiting for him like a stalker.
Suddenly, I remembered the gift I had carefully wrapped in a pretty box. I pulled it out of the paper bag and held it out to her. “Th-this is for you. You have a very beautiful home.”
Mrs. Lockhart hesitated just slightly before she accepted the gift. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course. It would be in bad taste if I didn’t invite my son’s fiancée, wouldn’t it?”
My stomach dropped.
Her eyes bored into me as she continued without pause. “Interesting choice of dress.”
What should I say? Thank you? It didn’t sound like a compliment the way she said it. It sounded like a challenge.
She could probably tell it wasn’t designer and was trying to be polite. Or maybe…I narrowed my eyes as I saw Beatrice-Rose coming down from the steps. She had changed into a white gown.
“Beatrice-Rose mentioned you were at the store yesterday when she was trying on the same dress you’re wearing now.” I drew in a sharp breath, and Mrs. Lockhart continued. “That dress must have made quite an impression on you if you’d risk wearing the same dress she’s wearing at my son’s party.”
I blinked slowly, taking a deep breath. Then a second one.
Fuck it.
“I know you don’t know me, ma’am, and we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances, but I can tell you I love your son very much. I would not humiliate him or myself with something as petty as deliberately wearing the same dress as Beatrice-Rose. Or anyone, for that matter.”
She must not have expected that I would defend myself because her eyes widened in surprise.
“Beatrice-Rose has it backward,” I continued. Adrenaline drove me now. “I was trying on this dress yesterday when she came into the shop. It looks like she changed now.”
Mrs. Lockhart looked me directly in the eye for a few seconds before she responded. “Yes. She asked me if she could borrow one of my dresses.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she didn’t pick the same dress that you’re wearing then.”
Oh God. Did I just really say that?
“President Miranda.”
I tried to gather my composure as Mrs. Lockhart’s secretary approached and whispered something in her ear.
“Will you excuse me for a moment, Veronica?” Mrs. Lockhart asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a gleam of respect in her eyes before she walked away. My knees felt weak as I watched her.
God. I needed a drink.
“Hello, Veronica.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a second before turning.
Why the hell didn’t I go with Caleb when he offered?
Because I wanted to prove to him that I could handle his world. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to make myself proud.
Beatrice-Rose looked at me with a smirk on her face. A short and stocky older man with bifocals was holding her arm.
“I don’t believe you’ve met Joe yet. Joe, this is Veronica, Caleb’s…girlfriend.”
“Fiancée,” I corrected.
Her lips curled into a hateful sneer before turning into a delighted smile as she looked at Joe, laying her hand on his arm.
“Joe is one of the biggest investors in Miranda Inn. I really don’t think the chain could have run as smoothly without you behind it, Joe.”
“Come now, Beatrice-Rose. You flatter me too much.”
“Nonsense.” She batted her lashes at him before shifting her gaze back to me. “I was just telling him I should have pursued a career in ballet. I do have the legs for it. Don’t you think so, Joe?” She shifted her dress to show off a bit of her leg.
“Sure, sweetheart.”
Beatrice-Rose let out a soft giggle. “Such a sweet talker. Joe also owns several lucrative restaurants around the country. Veronica is a professional when it comes to restaurants. Isn’t that right, Veronica?”
“Oh, is that right?” Joe looked at me with polite interest.
There was a glint of mischief in Beatrice-Rose’s eyes as she continued, “She has considerable experience as a waitress, I’ve heard. Isn’t that true?”
Joe frowned at Beatrice-Rose.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” I answered coolly.
Beatrice-Rose’s smile was haughty. “We’re somewhat short on help right now. Be a sweetheart and bring my glass back to the kitchen, won’t you?” she asked sweetly, offering me her half-empty glass.
My hot temper simmered under my skin as I narrowed my eyes at her. I nearly grabbed the glass and threw the contents in her face. But I kept my arms at my sides.
Then I smiled, baring my teeth.
“I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing it yourself, Beatrice-Rose. Why don’t you use those ballerina legs and take your glass back to the kitchen?” I suggested just as sweetly.
Joe choked on his drink. Beatrice-Rose’s face was quickly turning an ugly shade of red.
I didn’t care. I was seeing red. If she thought I would take her insults lying down, she had another think coming.
“Oh, and, Beatrice-Rose?” I said, batting my eyelashes at her. “Try not to copy anyone’s dress while you’re on your way to the kitchen.”
A movement behind her caught my eye, and I nearly cried at the sight of Caleb’s mother staring at me. Watching.
Damn Beatrice-Rose. Damn them all to hell.
This wasn’t my world. I would never fit in. I’d never wanted to.
I turned to leave.
“Veronica, wait!” Beatrice-Rose exclaimed. She grabbed my hand, and my clutch fell to the ground, almost like she had pulled on it. Its contents spilled.
What happened next was reflex. I jerked back, hitting Beatrice-Rose accidentally and spilling her drink on her dress.
I heard her outraged gasp before I snarled at her. I looked to the ground and was sorely tempted to leave my things there, to just get away from her and her drama.
But my phone was lighting up, vibrating. Caleb’s message popped on the screen.
Almost done, Red. Can’t wait to dance with you again.
Sighing in frustration, I tamped down my anger and crouched to pick up my things. I froze when I spotted a clear plastic bag, barely hidden under my purse. It had white powder in it.
Blood pounded in my ears, and I felt my face pale. My brain shut off and I stared into space, not seeing, not hearing, not conscious of my surroundings. The next thing I knew, someone was tugging at my arm.
“Let’s get you the hell out of here, Angel Face.”
Damon’s kind blue eyes looked at me with sympathy. What was he doing here?
When I didn’t respond, he tugged on my arm again. “Come on. Are you going to let these assholes win?” he whispered in my ear.
His words spurred me on. I stood up straight, remembering to raise my chin and walk steadily. But all the while, I was gripping Damon’s arm very, very hard.
I only realized this when we stopped and he groaned in pain.
“I know I have mouthwatering biceps, but could you loosen your grip?”
I blinked, mumbling an apology as I did just that. I looked around and realized he had taken us to the gazebo.
Still shaken, I leaned against a post and stared at the darkness surrounding us where the flowers around the gazebo weren’t illuminated by lights. I wished the darkness could hide me too.
“Oh God,” I whimpered, covering my face with my hands.
Damon sighed. He gently tugged my hands away from my face. “It’s okay, Angel Face.”
He was leaning in front of me, his face level with mine.
“It was really cool to watch you spill that drink on the blond. She looked very, very mad.” Damon laughed, tapping my chin playfully with his thumb. “Tell me, did you do it on purpose?”
He straightened up, lacing his fingers together and raising his arms upward in a long stretch. I noticed he was wearing the standard black-and-white server uniform. He looked striking, with his longish dark hair and a silver earring winking from his earlobe.
He let out a lazy groan of satisfaction as he completed his stretch and looked down at me with a big smile. When I didn’t return the smile, he leaned beside me against the post, bumping his shoulder against mine teasingly.
“Hey, smile. You probably just got me fired.”
I frowned.
He laughed. “This gig sucks. I’d rather be serving drinks at a bar or playing my guitar. If I’m being honest, I was looking for a way out. So really, you saved me.” He winked. “They’re not very nice people here.”
I bit my lip, shutting my eyes as I remembered the scene with the not-very-nice people.
“Gum?”
When I opened my eyes, he was waving a stick of gum in front of my face. I shook my head at him.
“Are you sure? It’s cupcake flavored.”
When I whimpered, he unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.
“Whoa. Okay, no gum.” He fished something out of his apron pocket and brandished my clutch in front of me. “I got it here. See? Don’t cry. Please.”
“Damon! Oh God. Thanks.” I grabbed it from him, sending him a grateful look. I opened it and saw that he had picked up all my stuff. When I saw the plastic bag filled with white powder, my vision turned red again.
“Yes, don’t mention it. I’ve always wondered why women bring these tiny bags with them. I mean, do they like it that they’re always holding something at a party?” He scratched his head. “It’s so small. What could you possibly fit in there? But now I know.”
I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but everything was coming back to me now.
Especially the anger.
“Caleb’s mom probably thinks I’m a cokehead.”
Probably thinks I was the one who planted the drugs in Caleb’s car. Oh God.
“I don’t think she saw it, whatever that thing is. Is it really coke? Geez, Angel Face. I didn’t know you were into that.”
“No, no! God. This day is officially shot to hell.” A strangled laugh escaped me. “It’s not mine, Damon. I don’t know why it’s there. I… Beatrice-Rose probably planted it there. I’m going to kill her!”
I was breathing hard. My eyes filled, tears threatening to spill.
“Okay, let’s think about this for a second,” Damon interjected. “Do you have proof?”
“I don’t need proof. Didn’t you see what happened? She planted the drugs in Caleb’s car, wore the same dress, knocked my purse out of my hand deliberately… My God, I’m going to tear off those demon’s hairs one by—”
Damon raised both his hands, palms up. “Listen, I share your feelings. But there are many witnesses at the moment…so why don’t we just breathe in and out, okay? That’s good. Breathe in. Breathe out.”
I did just that for a few moments. He was right. When I was feeling slightly calmer, I looked up at him gratefully.
“You’re very good at this,” I commented.
He shrugged. “I have experience with Kar. Do you know how many times I had to keep her from killing someone when we were kids?”
“Kar! Oh my God. I have to call her and check in.”
I rummaged for my phone in my clutch.
“I thought she came here with you.”
“Damon…” I started cautiously. “I guess you didn’t hear about it yet. There was a fire at the garage.”
“What?” Fear leapt into his eyes, and his voice shook.
My stomach clenched as I remembered the wreck in the garage.
“Tell me everyone is okay.”
I nodded. “Don’t worry. Everyone is safe.”
Relief washed over his face. “What happened?”
“According to the police, a group of kids set fire to the shop. You know there are chemicals and equipment there. It burned half of the shop and—”
I gasped as I felt a strong hand grip my arm from behind, whipping me around. Cameron’s intense blue eyes drilled into mine with urgency and pain.
“Kara? Is she okay?” Cameron asked.
“She’s okay. Everyone is okay.”
He swallowed in relief, releasing me from his hold. “I have to go,” he said, looking at something over my shoulder.
I turned around and spotted Caleb standing there. His jaw was hard, his eyes cold with anger. And he was looking right at me.
