“Yeah, you…send someone. Can’t break a nail doing it yourself.” Leave her with him being a bastard. It might get some of that fight back into her. He loved that part of her. Damn, loved! It shouldn’t be that far already.
As she turned to walk away, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Here, I’ll grab a cab.”
Confusion lit her face. “I don’t have anywhere to put them and I don’t have my license. Take the car and someone will pick it up later.”
“I don’t want it.” He’d had too much to drink and he didn’t want anyone coming over to remind him what a stupid thing he was doing by letting her go. He took her hand and shoved the keys into her palm, walking away as fast as he could. Not before he’d seen the sheen of moisture in her eyes.
The elevator would be too slow so he took the stairs. He might even skip the cab and walk back home. It was only about ten miles. He’d done that in full gear and a sixty-five pound pack on his back through the desert. This would be cake. It would give him time to cool down and get his emotionsunder control.
The image of her as he left wouldn’t be dismissed. Her face had been like stone but her expressive eyes couldn’t hide the fact she was close to tears.Come on, warrior princess, buck up. You’re stronger than that. Stronger than me. You’ll survive this.He wasn’tsure he would.
As he started down the busy street he thought about their interaction. He’d been a jerk, but better to get rid of any thoughts of being together now than later when his feelings were already in too deep. Or maybe it was already too late.
* * * *
Heather clenched her jaw and pushed back her shoulders as Scott walked away. He was walking away. From her. Damn him. Didn’t he realize how she felt about him? Of course not, because she’d never told him. Hadn’t made it apparent to anyone here tonight that they were a couple.Hadbeen a couple. Would it have mattered? Would he still have seen her as one of the spoiled, pampered guests who manipulated others to caterto their whim?
Something wet dropped onto the hand she held at her throat. Tears, shit, she never cried. Okay, maybe when her house had blown up but certainly never over a guy. Voices at her back had her rushing into the ladies’ room and slipping into a stall. Leaning against the side, she let the pain come and the tears fall. Silently, though, because after all she was still Heather Silva and she had a reputation to uphold.
Damn Scott, he was right. She was a spoiled little princess who usually got what she wanted. And right now, she wanted him back here, telling her everything was fine and they’d make it all work. But all her Daddy’s money couldn’t buy someone’s love. She’d learned that the hard way at twelve when she’d found out her Hollywood crush was already married and couldn’t be bought to beher boyfriend.
A toilet flushed a few stalls over and she flinched. Had they heard her sniffling? Would they even now be bending over to see the bottom of her gown to surmise who was in here so they could go back out to spread some juicy gossip? Water in the sink ran then a few moments later the door sounded and a quiet greeting floated through the air. Damn, someone else had come in.
Her eyes and nose ran so she grabbed some toilet paper and tossed the keys, the damn keys to the rental car that Scott wouldn’t take, onto the back of the toilet so she couldblow her nose.
“Sweetness.” Her sister’s voice drifted through the door.“Is that you?”
“Char?” She couldn’t stop the wobble in her voice. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was there this big empty hole in her chest? “Is anyone else out there?”
Charlotte moved closer to the door. “No, it’s only us. Are you all right? I saw you run in here a few minutes ago.”
Slowly easing the door open, she glanced out at her sister. Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. “You’re crying. What happened? My big sister never cries. Tell me who did this and I’ll punch their lights out.”
Heather laughed in a snorty, pathetic kind of way. It was the threat she’d always used whenever Charlotte cried. Now she took her hand and pulled.
“Let’s get you cleaned up then you can tell me what’s wrong. Where’s your purse?”
“I left it on one of the tables when I was helping Mom with something.”
“Good thing I have mine. Stand right there.” Charlotte wet a wad of toilet paper, grabbing the keys she’d left in there, and gently dabbed at the skin under her eyes. Damn, her mascara trailed right down to her chin. After some concealer and a dash of powder, her sister dragged her into the other section of the powder room where there were upholstered chairs and benches. Heather sat near the corner so her back was to the door. She didn’t need anyone coming in, seeing her looking such a mess. The tears weren’tquite done yet.
“What happened?” Charlotte sat in a chair across from her, rubbing her thumbs over Heather’s hands. “I thought I saw Scott leaving when I came out. Did something happen to Jack or Callie?”
“No.” Oh God, that would be even more awkward now than after they’d slept together in Vermont.
Her sister didn’t say anything more, simply stared at her. It was a trick their mother always used, but Heather would never tell Charlotte that she was copying their mom.She’d hate it.
After another minute of silence, she sighed. “I guess you could say Scott andI had a fight.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. But it’ll be fine, you’ll see. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you tonight. He’ll spend a little time by himself then realize he can’t live without you. Back in no time.”
Too bad she couldn’t believe that. Shaking her head, more tears rushed to her eyes. Too bad he’d spent so much time watching her. Scott had seen Walt Sorensen grope her backside. The poor guy was half-blind and was looking for his cane. Which his wife had but didn’t want him using because it didn’t look proper. Stupid woman. He’d immediately apologized to her and his face had turned beet red. Lawrence Dalton was another matter. He’d been rather blunt in what he was aiming to find when he slid his hand around her back and into the side of her dress. But the man was a distributor for their clothing line and she couldn’t afford to piss him off. And his wife was a lovely person who didn’t need reminders what a scumshe’d married.
She couldn’t even imagine the other things Scott had overheard or seen. It was what happened at these events. Women mingled and men made deals. Often women made deals too. But favors were exchanged for future favors. He wasn’t wrong. Simplywrong for her.
But why did he feel so right when they were together? Why did his lips on her skin make her feel like she was free-falling? The sound of her name on his lips send chills running through her core? His presence beside her while watching TV or eating dinner give her the most content feelingshe’d ever had?
“He won’t be back.” God, it hurt to admit that. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
