“How would you know, Nan?”Reagan narrows her serpent-like green eyes.“If she isn’t removed from the foundation, I’m pulling my family’s funding and we won’t back Project Miranda.”
Collectively, we hold our breaths and I can barely wrap my head around what Reagan threatened.She can’t do this.Project Miranda, named after Zach’s mother, is to be the pinnacle achievement of this year’s gala.
When I presented to the board the idea of investing in a large desalination project in Africa to turn saline water into freshwater, Reagan was quick to offer the initial start-up funding.The vote was unanimous.Project Miranda will change the course of the foundation and its more-than-money approach by creating jobs, a sustainable freshwater resource in the region, and so much more.
And now she’s willing to ruin the plans set in motion and the good the project could do all because of some ring?And she was with Zach.He loved her?Why didn’t he say something to me?All those times I complained about Reagan and not once did he tell me about their history.
I want to scream and tell them all I don’t want to marry Zach, even if it isn’t the truth.I can’t believe Reagan is so petty and vindictive.I’m hurt and angry to have their past explode in my face but that doesn’t mean I’d put the gala and foundation work in jeopardy like she’s doing.
“Zach and I have dated on and off for years.Everyone knew we’d eventually get married.”Reagan sniffles, wiping at an invisible tear, and some of the younger women standing around us nod in agreement.
Nan lets out a refined snort, not buying Reagan’s assertions, and bile burns in the back of my throat.Is she telling the truth?Why would she lie?
“Paige isn’t going anywhere.”Nan steps in, blocking me from Reagan’s mounting wrath.
My gaze darts around the room looking for the man in question, and then I remember I’d asked him to pick up the silent auction cards from the printer.He left a while ago.But as if choreographed, at that moment Zach pushes through the front doors and he stills, locking in on me.He must pick up on my anxiousness because he doesn’t hesitate to stride purposefully toward me.It isn’t surprising he’s attuned to my state of mind.There’s no way I’m calm or focused enough to hide my distress.
Not wanting him to join this crowd of quick-to-judge women, and needing to get away, I slink off, hopefully unnoticed with all eyes on Reagan, and meet him halfway.
“What’s wrong?”He clasps my elbow, sending a spark through my nerve endings.
“We need to talk.”
I push him into a small room with the office supplies and close the door behind us.Reagan is still locking horns with Nan Rothwell.
“Were you going to marry Reagan Hussey?”I pull away from his grip, grateful for the privacy and to be away from prying eyes.
Ramrod straight, he averts his gaze for a split second before meeting my scrutinizing stare.It’s barely a blink of an eye but enough to know Reagan wasn’t lying.It’s as if I’ve been punched in the gut and my stomach muscles throb with betrayal.
“Talk to me.”My jaw tightens.
“I’m not talking about this here,” he whisper-growls.
“Were you in love with her?Who broke it off?”
His answers don’t matter if what she says is true.I mean, who gives another woman the ring he gave someone else?But something is off.If they loved each other, Nan would know about them.Wouldn’t she?
And even if she didn’t, why didn’t he tell me?Let’s say he kept it a secret because he knew his grandmother would be all over him.Fine.But why didn’t he say something when we first talked about our deal?I had a right to know.Or when I talked about Reagan, why didn’t he say something then?Or more importantly, why didn’t he tell me before he proposed?
“You were going to marry her for your trust fund.”It’s meant to be a question, but I say it without doubt.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else?”He grabs hold of my hand and his thumb bumps the foul bauble banding my finger.Almost unbearable, the cool gold against my skin is blistering and constricting and it’s then the violent urgency to take off the ring is greatest.
I’d been questioning myself since hearing Reagan’s claim, trying to decipher what was at the root of my raging sadness.Sure, she had the element of surprise and I was somewhat embarrassed, but that wasn’t enough to cause this gaping wound in my chest.Am I hurt because of our lies?The lies we told so many people.The lies we told ourselves.
Or was it not knowing that Zach had been with Reagan or that he had proposed to her that hurts the most?
Or was it that our arrangement, false and doomed, wasn’t special or unique?
He propositioned another woman before me and like her, I’m replaceable.If our deal didn’t work out, he’d find another woman to stand by his side.
Even knowing our arrangement had always been business, I desperately wanted to believe his feelings were pure and true.I wanted to believe he loved me.My disgust for myself is immeasurable.
“No.I want to talk about this now.”
Frowning, his gaze swings behind him, searching for something.Does he want to make sure we’re alone?No one can overhear his confession or know about his dastardly deeds?
“Answer me.”
