Maybe a peace offering would lift him out of the sour mood she’d left him in.
Children were playing on the grassy field across the road and Jay tracked them as the cashier rang up her purchase and began wrapping up the cake. She envied their carefree joy, the ease of their small bodies. It made her ache to protect them, too, because nobody had protected her, and look where her naivete had gotten her.
She found herself facing a camera lens and blinked rapidly, her breath coming in a startled rush. The man had iron-grey hair and was wearing a chambray shirt that had gone dark with sweat beneath his arms.He’s just taking pictures of the event, she told herself, over the ringing in her ears.That’s all. But then she heard another man’s voice whisper,That’s the look.
(I don’t want to fuck an angel)
“Jay? Oh my god, Jay? Is that you?”
She tore her eyes away from the photographer who had moved away to examine the booths. With her heart pounding the way it was, she didn’t notice how badly her hand was shaking when she accepted her credit card from the cake seller as she turned to see who had said her name.
“Itisyou.” The female voice was resonant and a little smug, and when Jay craned her neck, she found herself looking ata glamorous-looking woman with long dark hair frosted with chestnut highlights.
“Hi?” Jay said, slightly panicked.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten us already, Jay. It’sme. Angie. Angela Diamante. Well—” she gave a practiced-sounding laugh “—it’s Angela Valdez now.”
That name hit her like a sledgehammer. “Valdez,” she repeated. “As in—”
“Michael, that’s right. You couldn’t possibly forget him.” She spoke the words like a challenge, and maybe they were.You used to make out with my husband, Jay. Remember?
“Wow, that was so long ago,” she babbled noncommittally. Something nudged her back—the cake, oh thank god. She took the box awkwardly, aware that the vendor was listening in eagerly, which was all the more reason for her to get the hell out of here. She tried to shuffle away but Angie, anticipating escape, hedged her off with an aggressive sidestep.
“Come over here, it’s way less crowded. It’s been an age, hasn’t it? Michael and I just had our firstborn. I would have invited you to the baby shower—and the wedding—but nobody knew where you were. It was like you had dropped off the face of the earth!”
Jay said nothing.
“Well.” Angie pretended to cough, glancing at the box at Jay’s arms. “What have you been up to after all this time? It looks like you’ve got something to celebrate.”
“Nope. Impulse buy.”
“This place is dangerous that way.” Jay nodded silently, looking desperately for an opening in the crowd that she could disappear into. “I saw you on the cover of theHollybrookHerald. That looked like Oscar de la Renta. It was, wasn’t it? And just look at yournails.”
It took all of her effort not to yank her hand back when Angie grabbed her by the wrist. She’d hit a sore spot. As soon as she had agreed to go to the children’s cancer benefit gala—because it was for sick children, how could she sayno?—he’d surprised her with an appointment at a salon and told her it was nonrefundable when she tried to insist that she could do her own makeup.
The building was completely empty when she arrived, except for the staff, and she thought there had been a mistake—until said staff greeted her with champagne and gold-leaf covered pastries that looked more expensive than her purse. Then she realized: it wasn’t that they were lacking in customers; Nicholas had bought out the place. The whole time she was there, Jay had been terrified that they were judging her for her Target blouse and chewed-on cuticles, but whatever ungodly sum he’d paid them had made them compliment her within an inch of her life.
She had been so angry that night, it had been all she could do to keep it together in his arms when he dragged her out from behind one of the massive centerpieces and onto the dancefloor.You knew what I wanted, she thought, feeling self-conscious and betrayed.And you did this anyway.
“I’ve had six people pull me aside to ask me who you are, Jay. You have to dance with me. I just donated fifty thousand dollars to this event and my plus-one isn’t allowed to hide behind a fern. I don’t see what the problem is,” he added callously. “I told them you’re my sister.”
Jay didn’t bother telling him that two of those people he was referring to had found her already and asked for the name of her “agency.” That with the expensive jewelry and lack of weddingring, there was only one assumption people would make about a woman in a dress like hers and it involved getting paid by the hour by men who would absolutely lie about her being their sister.
A twinge of guilt went through her as she remembered how the smile had died from his face at her continued silence.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
And she had turned away. “I want to leave.”
(You don't know the thoughts that go through a man's mind when they see a girl who looks like you)
“Where did you get them done?”
“I’m sorry?” Jay blinked into Angie’s looming face.
“Your nails.”
“Oh, La Vie, I think.”
