He shrugs his shoulders and throws his gaze past me. He's searching for an explanation. I can see it within his eyes.
"The truth. Just tell me the goddamned truth." I know my voice is slightly raised. I can tell by the reaction of the couple seated next to us. "How did you end up in my house that night?"
His posture tightens and I see the vein in his neck pulse. He's getting agitated. "Not here. You can't suggest a public place and then interrogate me."
"I can do whatever the fuck I want." I push my chair back from the table. "I never asked to be part of your sick, twisted game."
"Don't go." His tone is both pleading and demanding. "Don't walk out of here."
"He's all yours." I push the waitress out of my way. I don't turn back around. Hunter Reynolds can go fuck himself or that waitress. I don't care anymore.
Chapter 3
"You're actually wearing that to my mother's birthday party?" I gawk at the red mini dress Alexa has squeezed herself into. "You can't be serious."
"Deadly serious." She flips her long, blond hair onto her shoulders. "I look hot, right?"
She does. How can I disagree with her? "Of course but maybe you could save that dress for another occasion, like when you decide to turn in your teaching career to become a cheap call girl."
She pretends to pout but she can't hold back a giggle. "That means it's newsworthy."
"Newsworthy?" I raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"My date is a junior reporter for that college cable channel." She smiles.
"I thought your date was some guy who works for your dad."
"He was a C." She doesn't expand on her critique of him and I'm grateful. I'm really not in any mood to hear about her recent conquests since I'm still feeling the piercing bite of humiliation over sleeping with Hunter.
"I should go downstairs and check on the caterers." I run my hand over the belt of my dress. It's plain, black and covers my scar. It's comfortable, practical and makes me invisible. It's
perfect.
"You should do something with your hair." She reaches to grab hold of the high ponytail I've pulled my hair into. "Let me help you curl it."
"No." I shoo her hand away with a quick flick of my wrist. "It's fine like this."
"You've gone back inside yourself." She glares at me. "Tell me what happened."
"I can't." I hear the slight crack in my voice.
"Just talk to me," she whines. "You'll feel better if you do."
She's right. I know she is. I want to confess everything to her. I want her to help me deal with all of this but I can't. I can't let anyone know that Hunter only wanted me because of Coral's heart. That's a secret I'll take to my grave.
"The guests will be here soon." I walk past her to the door of my bedroom. "I need to go downstairs."
"You better hurry." She's already occupied with her own reflection in the mirror again. "Or the hag is going to flip her lid."
I smile softly at her nickname for my mother. "I'll see you downstairs."
***
"This isn't the wine I wanted." My mother wrinkles her nose as she takes a heavy sip from the goblet in her hand. "Who approved this?"
"I did." I sigh. I knew this evening wasn't going to be easy. My mother is notoriously picky. She'll criticize anything and everything she can.
She turns her back to me and hands the glass to a passing waiter. "Get a bottle from the cellar. Anything in there is better than this."