Page 172 of LA King

Alejandro joins in too. His knowledge of the inner workings of the LA machine is impressive, and I find myself having an enjoyable evening.

My husband is charming and funny, and he has these people eating out of the palm of his hand. I’m having such a good time that I no longer give a second’s thought to the way his ex-girlfriends looked at me earlier or how small they made me feel.

I excuse myself to use the powder room, and I’m sitting in one of the stalls when I hear Michaela’s voice. “Oh my god, can you believe Alejandro married that?”

“I know,” Keira replies. “I saw her in that magazine article and thought they must have caught her at a bad angle, but nope—she’s just fat.” The two of them burst out laughing.

I choke down a sob, not wanting to alert them to my presence. I am not fat! Curvy, yes.

“He is sooo out of her league,” Michaela adds. “Have you seen how she squeezed herself into that ridiculous dress? Ugh! What the hell was he thinking?”

Cue more laughter.

“Oh, honey, it won’t last. It never does. And she’s clearly not his type.” She makes an oinking noise now. Bitch! If I didn’t have tears streaming down my face, I would march out there and give them a piece of my mind. But I’m no longer Alana Montoya; I’m Alana the book nerd who got teased in high school for not being … well, for not being enough.

“Do you think he likes to do all that freaky stuff with her?” Michaela asks.

“God, no! Could you imagine her? I bet she’s a strictly missionary-with-the-lights-off kind of girl.” They shriek with laughter.

“I’m sure he’ll be looking for something more to his usual tastes soon enough,” Keira says. “Maybe we can convince him to send her home early tonight and remind him exactly what he’s missing.”

They carry on talking about me as they leave the powder room, and salty tears run down my cheeks. I wipe them away with the back of my hand and take a deep breath.

What a pair of vapid bitches.

Alejandro has fulfilled his role for the evening. Perhaps I’ll ask him if we can leave. The night isn’t fun anymore, and I want to change out of my dress and into my comfy pajamas.

I fix my makeup in the mirror and walk out of the restroom with my head held high. I’m making my way back to our table when I see them draped over my husband while they all laugh.

Are they laughing at me?

Tears burn hot and fierce, and the realization that I don’t belong here hits me like a punch to the stomach. Keira and Michaela look like they were born to be here. Like they belong on his arm.

I’m acutely aware of my ample breasts straining to break out of my dress and the way I squeezed myself into it earlier. God, I must look like a complete fool. Is everyone at the table laughing at me now?

My tears threaten to break free, but I refuse to let any of them see me cry. I spin on my heel and flee to the elevators. I’ll sneak out through the service entrance and catch a cab home. Alejandro can have his blond goddesses tonight and leave me the hell alone.

I make it through the lobby and into the elevator, but I’m greeted by one of Alejandro’s guards when the doors open.

“Good evening, Mrs. Montoya,” José says with a smile. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave just yet.”

“Why not?” I go to walk out of the elevator, but José blocks my path.

“Because Mr. Montoya has asked me to escort you to his suite.”

“What?” It’s been two minutes. How the hell does he even know I’m gone?

“If you’ll step back from the doors, I’ll take you up there now.”

“No. I’m leaving.” I try to push my way past him.

He holds up his hands, but he still places his body in front of me, preventing me leaving. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “What are you going to do? Carry me up there? I’m pretty sure your boss wouldn’t be very happy if you manhandled his property.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t, ma’am. But he’d be even more unhappy if I let you leave here and didn’t escort you to his suite. So I’ll take my chances.”

He’s serious. All I can do is hope to appeal to his better nature. “Please, José, I just want to go home.”