The Wife Before

I grinned. “Fair point.”

“Yo, what are you doing after this whole thing is over anyway?” he asked as I slid the tray closer to me. I gave him a once-over before putting all my attention on the tray.

“Why do you wanna know?” I mused, picking up the tray and balancing it on my palm.

“Just wondering. Ben told me you’re single.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I’m looking.” I turned away, giving him my back. When I was met with the crowd, I smiled over my shoulder and he grinned and shook his head. Roger was good-looking and it would have been fun to go home with him that night of all nights, use him to take away some of my worries. I was stressed and annoyed and I bet if I’d gotten a couple of glasses of that fancy champagne in me, I would have been walking out of that mansion arm in arm with him.

But that night called for other plans.

I was doing fine with the tray, walking through the designated walkways for the waiters to avoid the crowds, but it was as I approached table six that I felt a shift.

My stomach dropped. The floor was wet and I stepped right into a puddle. A gasp shot out of me as my foot slipped and I tried to catch myself from sliding and stumbling, but it was too late.

My tray wobbled and the glasses clashed into one another, the champagne sloshing, causing even more of a mess on the ground. There was a man in a suit right in front of me and the drinks were going to land right on him if I didn’t act fast.

As if he sensed what was happening, he quickly turned and shot a hand out my way. His large hand clutched my free arm and I did all I could to save that damn tray, but there was no saving it. It was falling and I was slipping on the wet spot, losing all control. The tray hit the concrete and the glasses went crashing down.

But I didn’t fall because the man in the suit had saved me.

CHAPTER FIVE

I was thankful the music was still playing and most of the guests were tipsy or drunk, because a lot of them gasped but then looked past the accident moments later as if things like this happened all the time. And I bet they did. People like them attended events like this often. There was always one waiter or waitress bound to drop a tray or a plate or something, right?

So yes, they all did move on, and not a soul thought to help . . . except for the man in front of me. My heart was beating swiftly and I could hear my pulse in my ears. My mind was racing with thoughts about my mother, about Kell and Ana, about how badly I wanted to run out of there and never look back but needing the money for the bills. I saw the man’s sculpted lips move, but his words were incoherent.

All I could think when I saw him was wow. I mean, he was gorgeous, and he had nice lips, yes, but what I noticed most were his eyes. Hazel. Despite the lightness of them, there was a gloominess to them—a sadness.

Table six was close to the pool and the blue water made his eyes shimmer. His lashes were long, and his jaw was sculpted. His nose was a perfect sharp angle. Everything about him screamed perfection and suddenly I became aware of how close I was to him. He was still holding my wrist and my palm was pressed flat to the heart of his suit jacket, my belly against his.

The proximity made me nervous, dizzy, and I pulled back quickly. He released me and his mouth moved again.

“Are you okay?”

The words became coherent, the music louder, my beating heart calmer.

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

He studied my face and then looked next to us, at the pile of broken glass on the ground.

“Oh—uh, I am so sorry. I should clean this up.” I didn’t think as I bent down and picked up the tray. I was still on edge, quickly picking up pieces of glass and placing them on the wet tray.

The man in the suit said, “Oh, I wouldn’t—”

But it was too late. A piece of glass caught my finger and not only were there shards of it everywhere, but now my blood was spilling on top of it.

“Shit,” I hissed, bringing the bleeding finger to my mouth.

“What the hell happened?” Abby approached and her screech made my ears ring. “You dropped the drinks?”

A woman rushed up next to her in a dress with the letter M monogrammed on the chest. She was brown skinned with her hair pulled up into a sleek bun.