She shrugs. “My friend, Katie, is living in America with her new partner, so I’m staying in her apartment looking after her dogs. I have a little money put aside; I don’t need to start looking for work until the new year.”
I place my hand on her arm. She turns to face me, looking up at me with a confused expression.
“Everything has changed unrecognizably in recent years. I’m not sure where I’m meant to be.” She half smiles. “Hopefully, I’ll figure it out before I’m fifty. Only a few years to go. Shall we get on with present shopping then?”
Frozen to the spot for a second, I say nothing. Just stare. She’s so real. So human and raw. A danger I don’t need in my life.
Half an hour later, I have three plastic shopping bags filled with goodies for my aunt. She’s going to be delighted.
“Thank you,” I say, as we start our goodbyes. “I really enjoyed this afternoon.”
Her cheeks flush.
Squaring my shoulders, I decide to throw caution to the wind and suggest we see each other again. Before the words can leave my mouth, a shrill female voice interrupts us.
“Ivan,” it calls, and my skin crawls. Shit, it’s her.
I turn to see Virginia Walstead tottering toward us on ankle-breaking heels in an insanely short tweed dress. “Ivan,” she hollers again, screeching to a stop at my shoulder. Amy’s eyes widen as she takes in the woman in front of her.
Virginia is every inch a desperate housewife, dripping in designer clothes and jewelry. Her poor old husband croaked in a sailing accident a few years ago, and since then she’s been living it up on his life insurance payout, but rumor has it that funds are running low.
“How are you, darling?” she trills, leaning toward me and kissing my cheek. “Long time, no see.” She winks at me.
Yes, the last time I saw her was after a local business event. We enjoyed a steamy night together, then I left the next morning before she woke. For the next four weeks, I ignored her calls.
Snubbing her comment, I say, “Lovely to see you, Virginia. How have you been keeping?”
“Oh, the usual. Busy, busy. Always places to be and people to meet.”
I snigger. She’s actively searching for her next paycheck, and I know for a fact she’s been dating every eligible widower and bachelor in the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a spreadsheet she’s ticking off as she goes until she finds the one she wants. It won’t be me.
Her focus moves to Amy, who has been watching the proceedings silently.
“And who is this?” Virginia asks. She drops her gaze to Amy’s toes, then slowly brings it back to her eyes, assessing her as she goes before she turns back to me.
“My girlfriend,” I reply spontaneously, and Amy’s mouth falls open. Virginia screws her nose up in displeasure.
“Girlfriend?” she questions. “I didn’t know you were into long-term relationships, Ivan.”
“Well, it’s early days, isn’t it, sweetheart.” I move to Amy’s side and slide my arm around her waist. “We’ve known each other for years, but only recently started dating. I’m excited to see where it will take us.”
“You’ll be coming to the club on Saturday evening then? For the Charity Christmas Ball?” I gape at her, then reorganize my features. She cocks her head to the side, waiting on an answer to my question.
“Of course,” I respond. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Great, now I have to magic up two fucking tickets out of thin air and beg the woman standing next to me to go.
Virginia will spread this around the entire country club by nightfall. I don’t want to be rumbled as having a fake girlfriend.
Amy Corrigan is coming with me—even if I have to drag her there.
Chapter twenty-five
Amy
My jaw almost hits the floor as I watch the interaction between Ivan and this vision of a woman in front of me. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.
Her auburn hair is poker straight, hanging perfectly down her back as if cut using a ruler. Black eyeliner, tattooed on with pinpoint precision, highlights her huge cat eyes. Every item of clothing gracing her body screams money and class.
