“I feel a lot better, actually.”
“What a load of crap. You were on death’s door a moment ago.”
“It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Just too much alcohol.” I hold out my hand for the water, and he hands it to me apologetically. I finish it in one go. “I obviously wasn’t on death’s door.”
“I don’t like this.”
I stand and smile, pretending I’m not suffering an intense head rush. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll walk you back.”
Yes, I think. Walk me back. I’ll invite you in for a nightcap. I’ll feel faint again, and you’ll catch me. And then…
“No. Please.”
Before he can respond, I’m moving down the hallway. I can hear his footsteps, but he doesn’t try to stop me. I hold the banister down the stairs, and when I near the living room, I hold my breath. I barely have the energy to walk, and I’m not ready to see Grace again.
But when I open the door, the room is empty.
“She’s walking Jesse to his car,” Bradley explains. “Wait, I just remembered. We have leftovers from dinner.”
Before I can protest, he goes down the hallway to the kitchen. While I wait, I walk over to the bar cart to see what Grace gaveme. There’s a range of spirits—vermouth, Cointreau, bitters—and at the end of the row, tipped on its side, a small bottle. I pick it up and read the label.
Ipecac syrup.
I recognize the name immediately. My Mom gave it to me once when I was a kid after I made a witch’s potion with the cleaning products under the sink. It’s an emetic, used to make people throw up.
She deliberately poisoned me, but why? To make Bradley think I was a kid who couldn’t control her alcohol? Or was she just bored? Did she just want to cause mayhem and see what happened?
“Sorry, I’m too late. Grace threw them out,” Bradley says. “What have you got there?”
I quickly put down the bottle. “Nothing. Just looking at the scene of the crime. I’m sorry I ruined the party.”
“Please. We’re sorry we almost killed you.”
There it is, the collectiveweof his marriage. I try to ignore the disappointment I have no right to feel. I wonder if I should check the other side effects of the cocktails she gave me.May cause elevated heart rates and intense attraction to unavailable men.
As I step outside, I wait for him to insist once more that he walk me home. But after a friendly goodnight, he shuts the door before I’ve even made it down the steps.
The moon is rising above the trees. I imagine Bradley beside me in the silver light. The romance, the magic. What would it take for that to happen? How can I become the type of woman a man like Bradley would want? I would have to be like Grace, I suppose. But she’s from an entirely different universe. She wasborn into money and went to fancy schools and elite colleges—plural—before becoming a global success with her first novel.
I don’t even have a real job. I don’t have any money. I’m drowning in debt from student loans. I have no plans, no realistic ambitions. All I’m doing is running away from a controlling man.
I’m close to where the trail forks to my cottage when I hear laughter. Ahead of me are two figures. I immediately recognize Grace in her white dress. She’s walking close to Jesse, who has his arm around her shoulder. I instinctively move to the treeline, out of the moonlight. They’re whispering, but I’m too far away to hear them. Jesse laughs, and she pushes him away. He then grabs her roughly by the wrist and pulls her towards him. His other arm wraps around her waist.
For a second, I think he’s assaulting her, but then Grace rests her head on his chest and looks up at him.
And then they kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I wake the next morning with a headache. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
And of course, I have. And that truck’s name is Grace.
She poisoned me, but why? To make me look like a child in front of Bradley? If that were true, it didn’t seem to work very well. He called me beautiful, after all. Breathtaking.
I close my eyes, then remember the kiss. It didn’t last long. I watched, transfixed, as his left hand moved to her breast. Then he pulled away and led her up the driveway. Was it just a kiss? Or did they do more once they reached his car? I wonder how Grace would describe it.His member throbbed. My body tensed. His tongue probed.
