IOU Sex

“Me, of course. The fact that I’m the one marrying Seth.”

I caught a glimpse of him behind Lizzie. He was of medium height and build. Pale blond hair. Brown eyes. Studious and lawyerly looking. He didn’t hold a candle to my date. Not by way of appearance or character.

I was so over Seth. And I hadn’t even realized it until this very moment.

The light bulb suddenly burned bright over my head as everything fell into place. “I came here, dressed like this, because it’s what I wanted,” I said. “I don’t answer to anyone but me, Lizzie. And I wanted to show everyone they don’t have to feel sorry for me because my little sister fucked my fiancé. In my own bed.”

Shocked gasps ensued.

Lizzie visibly bristled. Her shoulders bunched and her cheeks and forehead turned pink, a telltale sign of her mounting anger and embarrassment.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t agonize over how my actions might affect her. I knew the time had come for me to worry a little more about my own feelings.

“You know what’s interesting?” I continued on. “I’m not the one to be pitied. You are. All your life, you’ve done what others have told you to do, never finding your own way. You’ve always wanted what I had, never deciding what you wanted for yourself. That includes Seth.”

I could have kicked myself for letting him sap my confidence. Who the hell was he to take it from me, anyway? And why had I let my experience with him undermine my relationship with Michael? What a waste of mental energy as I’d agonized over someone I didn’t even want.

“Jesus,” I said as the revelation welled within me. “Why on earth would I want Seth when I can have a real man like Michael Houston?” My voice was a bit loud. Once again, heads turned in our direction. “In fact, I’m happy for you,” I told my sister, taking advantage of her shocked silence. “You’re getting exactly what you deserve. A lying, cheating bastard. We’ll see how long this marriage lasts.”

Okay, that stopped all conversations.

My sister glared at me for several tense seconds. Then she reached for the glass of champagne in my hand, too quick for me to think twice about handing it over. She threw the cold liquid in my face.

“Oh, my God!” Meredith screeched as she immediately searched her purse for tissues and handed them over.

I wasn’t surprised by the attack. A simple pout wouldn’t have sufficed for Lizzie this time. I’d mortified her beyond repair.

“I guess that excuses me from the wedding,” I said as I dabbed at my face.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Michael moving in, looking ready to strangle Lizzie. My protector. He made my heart flutter. And this time, the feeling didn’t scare me.

I held a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

My mother, however, swooped in. “Elizabeth Marie Carlisle.” Clearly she was appalled by my sister’s actions. About time. To me, she said, “You really should keep your opinions to yourself.”

“I’m entitled to voicing this one, don’t you think, Mother?” Maybe it was the dress. Maybe it was Michael. Maybe it was the liberation I’d experienced over the past twenty-four hours. Whatever the reason, my nerve had returned in spades.

Seth moved forward, coming toward me, rather than my sister. He said, “I never meant—”

Michael stepped between us. He was a good three or four inches taller than Seth and much broader. “Stay away from her, or you’ll get more than champagne in the face.”

I smiled. He never did like anyone messing with me. Looking around his shoulder, I said, “You never meant to sleep with my sister while you were engaged to me? Really, Seth?” Not waiting for an answer, I glanced back at my mother. “And you happily turned a blind eye.”

There was a ripple of noise through the crowd. Feeling as though I’d finally made my point—and let everyone know I was tired of rolling over and playing dead—I took Michael’s hand and dragged him away from the confrontation with Seth.

“I want to dance,” I told him, not caring that I was a bit wet. I had on waterproof mascara. “Let’s go find a nightclub in the city.”

“Fiona,” my mother said in a tight voice. “Dinner hasn’t been served yet.”

“That’s okay. I have a date tonight anyway. And I’m done with this scene.” I squeezed Michael’s hand. “Dinner then dancing?” I asked him.

He grinned at me. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Have a lovely evening, everyone,” I said as we made our way through the tight gathering and out of the tent.

I gloated all the way to the car. Before opening the door, Michael pulled me into his arms. “You definitely made a spectacle of yourself.”

I nodded. “Yeah, well, I didn’t say anything that everyone in there hadn’t already heard on the street or read in the papers.”