Twenty-Six
Too stunned to move, it took Kalen’s guiding hand to get me moving forward. It wasn’t exactly Scott who had taken me by surprise. It was the evidence of his betrayal tucked at his side, glowing as they say. Thankfully, Scott was too self-involved to notice me. His conversation with some of the firm’s partners even took precedence over the woman next to him.
“Let me take your coat, lass.”
That caught my attention. I was lass again and wasn’t sure how to take it.
I shrugged out of it and watched Kalen walk it over to the coat check before I moved into an alcove and placed a call.
The phone rang on the other end a few times before a breathy “Hello” answered.
“I’m sorry, Lizzy. Is it a bad time?”
Muffled noise grew quieter before I heard a door close.
“No, what’s up? Are you with that delicious man of yours?”
Kalen wasn’t mine. That much I was sure of.
“I don’t know. I think this is a mistake.”
I imagined Lizzy’s grim face as she spoke. “Don’t tell me Scott is getting to you?”
“It’s not that,” I hurried to say, but she cut me off before I could explain.
“Is it your conscience? I swear, Bails, I don’t understand what your parents did to you. They are a product of the seventies. You’d think they know better.”
I didn’t quite understand her context.
“What do you mean by the seventies?”
“You really need a lesson in pop culture. The seventies birthed sexual freedom and no judgment from choice. You need to own yours.” She sighed. “Screw the hell out of the edible man of yours or not without shame.”
“He’s not my man,” I said.
“He could be.”
“No, he was very clear about that.”
“And you, my friend, have a lot to learn. That man is hooked. All you have to do is reel him in.”
A man’s voice called for Lizzy.
“I have to go,” she said, sounding resigned.
“I’m sorry. I should have asked how things were going with you. I hope I didn’t interrupt.”
She laughed. “No, you interrupted nothing but a room full of pretentious people. Tell me again why I’m dating a man who runs in the same circles I do?”
I wasn’t going to remind her she was doing it for her parents. Instead, I turned her advice to me back on her.
“Your choice. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“Touché, my friend. Touché. See you at home later.”
“Yeah.”
We ended the call and I tucked my phone back into my clutch. I walked out into the open and found Kalen surveying the landscape of people.
“Looking for me?” I asked a moment later as I stepped in front of him.
“Dannan, an còmhnaidh,”
I would have asked what he meant if not for my name spoken by the devil himself.
“Bailey.”
Slowly, I spun around to face the enemy. I kept my eyes level on him, not feeling anything, not even anger.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Scott said.
“And why is that?” I asked, my snarkiness not going unnoticed.
He wasn’t given the chance to answer as Kalen stepped up beside me. He slid his arm around my waist and a shiver ran through me. I had to swallow, creating an awkward second to pass as Scott noticed Kalen’s possessive hold on me.
“Lass, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Scott’s eyesore began to fan herself, trying to draw attention her way.
She muttered, “Lass. I wish you would call me lass, Scott.”
I ignored her to dispense with the unpleasantries. Scott didn’t even glance in her direction, his eyes bouncing between my date and me.
“Kalen, this is Scott Hayes. Scott, this is—”
“Kalen Brinner,” Kalen said, extending a hand.
It was comical the way Scott mooned over Kalen’s wrist like he’d seen the Holy Grail.
“Is that a limited edition 5531 Patek Philippe?”
I caught a hint of golden metal before Kalen snatched his arm away from Scott, who didn’t appear to want to let go. As Kalen straightened his cuffs, Scott babbled like a man in love.
“I myself have an eye on a 5522 Calatrava Pilot, which is a dream. Although I expect my bonus to be enough to cover it.”
Scott’s mistress, tired of being ignored, lifted her arm and waved it between us.
“I guess smart watches are obsolete.”
But it wasn’t the watch she wanted attention on. It was my former engagement ring that graced her finger. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of focusing on it. Instead, I kept my eyes on hers.
“Kalen, this is Melba,” I said so saccharine sweetly, I almost had to lick my lips.
“Melissa,” she corrected.
I wasn’t really mad at Scott anymore. The spineless little weasel’s cheating was most likely enviable. He was just that kind of guy. This woman, however, had relentlessly pursued him while smiling in my face. If I hadn’t known her, I wouldn’t have been angry with her. And even though we’d never been friends, the knife in my back didn’t hurt any less.