“Because you lied to my face about it,” he said in a low voice, his eyes shooting sparks of blue fire. “I don’t give a damn what you do. If you don’t want to act, be a ditchdigger, child minder, work in a shop. Stay at home and do nothing for all I care. Just be honest about it.”
“Auditioning is so hard,” I choked out. I knew I wasn’t doing myself any favors trying to explain but I couldn’t help it. “Facing brutal rejection, day after day. I have no friends here. No connections.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “You wish you were back in L.A. Is that what you’re saying?”
His expression looked so strange, I hardly knew what to say. “Yes. I mean, no....”
Beneath the gilded chandeliers of the ballroom, Edward’s expression hardened. So did his voice. “If you want to go, then go.”
I shriveled up inside.
Turning, he left the coat room, leaving me to trail behind him.
“Edward!” I heard a throaty coo, and looking up, I saw Victoria St. Cyr coming toward us. “And Diana. What a pleasant surprise.” Insultingly, she looked me up and down, and my cheeks went hot. My cocktail dress that had seemed so daring and sexy suddenly felt like layers of tacky trash bags twisted tightly around my zaftig body, especially compared to the elegantly draped gray dress over her severely thin frame. She bared her teeth into a smile. “How very...charming that you’re still with us. And surprising.”
Things only went downhill from there.
I did not fit into Edward’s world. I felt insecure and out of place. Clutching his arm, I clung to him pathetically as he walked through the party. Even as he drank short glasses of port with the other men, and traded verbal barbs with his cousin, I tried to be part of the conversation, to act as if I belonged. To act as if my heart weren’t breaking.
And Edward acted as if I weren’t there, holding his arm tightly. Finally, my pride couldn’t take it.
“Excuse me,” I murmured, forcing my hands off his arm. “I need a drink.”
“I’ll get it for you,” Edward said politely, as if I were a stranger, some old lady on the subway.
“No.” I held up my hand. “I, um, see someone I need to talk to. Excuse me.”
Was that relief I saw in his eyes as I walked away?
Awkwardly, I glanced toward Victoria St. Cyr and her friends standing by the dance floor. Turning the other way, I headed toward the buffet table. At least here I knew what to do. Grabbing a plate, I helped myself to crackers, bread, cheese—anything that promised to settle this sick feeling in my belly.
Was there any point in telling Edward I was pregnant, when it was clear he was already thinking up excuses to end our relationship?
“It won’t last.”
Victoria stood behind me, with two of her friends.
I stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t mind her,” one of the friends said. “She’s not used to seeing Edward with a girlfriend.”
Girlfriend made it sound like we were exclusive. Which we weren’t. Well, obviously I was not dating anyone else. Was he?
My breath caught in my throat as I suddenly looked at all his late nights in a brand new light. The nights he hadn’t even come home, when I’d assumed he was at work...could he have been with someone else? He’d never promised me fidelity, after all. I hadn’t received a single word of commitment or love. In fact, he’d promised me the opposite.
“I wouldn’t say I’m his girlfriend,” I said thickly.
Victoria pounced. “What are you then?”
“His, um, physical therapist.”
They all stared at me, then burst out laughing.
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now,” one said knowingly.
“It’s true.” At least it used to be true. “Edward was in a car accident in September...”
“That’s right.” Victoria St. Cyr looked at me thoughtfully. Diamond bangles clacked over the music of the nearby quartet as she held up her hand. “Doesn’t that all make you worry?”
“What?”
“Edward’s accident.” She sighed. “He was so in love with that American maid who worked at a nearby house.” She looked me over insultingly. “She looked rather like you, in fact. When she fell pregnant, he helped her leave London and flew her all over the world for a year. But when she had the chance to marry the father of her baby, she dropped Edward without a thought.”
“The other man was a Spanish duke,” her friend added, as if that explained everything.
“Edward actually tried to blackmail her into leaving her new husband—and her baby. Fortunately, the car flipped down the hill. But if the Duke and Duchess of Alzacar had pressed charges, Edward would be in jail.” Shaking her head, she said coldly, “He should be in jail. Rupert should be CEO.”
Did she think this new knowledge would devastate me? “I know all that,” I said coldly, though I was shaking. “And you’re wrong. Whatever mistakes Edward made in the past, he deserves to lead St. Cyr Global. He’d never sink a billion-pound deal like his cousin tried to do.” I drew myself up. “He’s twice the man your husband is.”
Victoria stared at me dangerously.
“Your loyalty is adorable,” she said softly. “But let me offer you a little friendly advice.”
Friendly? Right. I said guardedly, “Yes?”
“I understand your attraction. Truly, I do. The night I met Edward, I wanted him so badly, I would have done anything to get into his bed. Anything.” Her lips pursed. “Luckily I met Rupert before any damage could be done.”
“Your point?”
Her thin lips curled. “Edward is poison for women. You’ll see. He keeps a lover just long enough to use her body and break her heart before he tosses her in the rubbish bin. How long have you two been together now? Two months? Three?” She shook her head with a pitying sound. “You’re long past your sell-by date. Here.” She pushed a card into my hands. “Call me when you need a shoulder to cry on.”
And she swept past me grandly, her entourage trailing behind her.
Numbly, I looked down at the embossed card. It was like a business card, only gilded and elegant and clearly for society. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen.
Crumpling the card into a ball, I shoved it in my purse. Even living among the sharks of the entertainment industry hadn’t prepared me for this. Edward’s family was awful. No wonder he’d been a sitting duck for the first reasonably kindhearted person he met—that American girl he hadn’t wanted to let go. Because he loved her so much.
While he was ready to dump me for a white lie I’d told, just because I’d wanted so desperately for him to think the best of me.
Turning blindly from the buffet, I ran into a brick wall. Edward was standing behind me. I wondered how long he’d been there.
“Having a good time?” he asked, his face inscrutable.
“No,” I choked out.
“It might be better with champagne.”
“I don’t want any.” I looked up at his handsome face. Was he already trying to figure out how best to end our relationship? How to let me down easy, and without a fuss?
I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to hold me close and never let go. Everything he’d told me—from the beginning—would never