But I can't.
Because I have no proof. Just suspicion and a terrible, growing certainty that Victoria is playing a game I don’t know the rules to.
I force myself to look away, to focus on the remains of the blueberry cheesecake on my plate.
This is what Victoria fucking does. She schemes, manipulates, finds leverage and exploits people. She did it throughout our marriage, turning every disagreement into an opportunity to undermine my confidence, to make me question my own judgment.
I need to stop this shit right now.
But how? I can't exactly accuse my ex-wife of sabotaging my girlfriend's business pitch based on seeing her talk to Vance at a charity luncheon. And even if I could prove Victoria's involvement, what would I do with that information?
Confront her? She'd deny everything, probably twist it to make me look paranoid or controlling.
Talk to Vance? And say what, exactly? That my ex-wife might be trying to influence his investment decisions? He'd laugh me out of his office.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out with unsteady hands.
Emma:It went amazing! He loved it!
The text is followed by three celebration emojis, her excitement palpable even through the screen.
I stare at the message, my heart in my throat.
She thinks she succeeded. And maybe she did. Maybe I'm wrong about all of this. Maybe Victoria's presence here is pure coincidence, her familiarity with Vance nothing more than social networking.
Maybe Emma nailed that pitch so thoroughly that whatever influence Victoria might have won't matter.
But looking across the ballroom at my ex-wife, watching her whisper something in Vance's ear that makes him laugh, I don't believe it.
Victoria is up to something. And whatever it is, it's going to hurt Emma.
I type out a response, my fingers clumsy on the screen.
Me:That's amazing! I'm so proud of you. Can't wait to hear all about it.
I look up again, searching for Victoria and Vance at the bar, but they've moved. I scan the ballroom, finally spotting them near one of the tall windows overlooking Central Park. They're standing close together, Victoria's hand on his arm again, their heads bent together in conversation.
I should leave. Should get the fuck out of here before I do something reckless like march over there and make a scene.
Then Victoria's eyes find mine across the ballroom.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. Her expression is perfectly neutral, but there's something in her eyes—triumph, maybe. Or a warning.
She doesn't care that I’ve seen her with Vance.
In fact, she wanted me to see them. This is a message, delivered in her usual manipulative way.
I can fuck with any part of your life I want. Including your precious Emma.
My phone rings, shattering the moment. I tear my eyes away from Victoria to check the screen.
Michael. Probably calling about prepping for the three o'clock meeting.
I let it go to voicemail.
When I look back, Victoria and Vance are walking toward the exit together. She says something that makes him laugh again, and then they're gone, disappearing into the foyer beyond the ballroom.
I sit frozen at my table, my untouched coffee going cold.
