interested when I’d suggested the place time and time again, and the moment he’d seen the crowd, there’d been a visible change in him.
“It’s that dress,” he said.
“The dress?” Again, I was confused. “This is the one you wanted me to wear, remember?”
“But what did you do to your breasts?” His expression was one of disdain as he lowered his eyes to my chest. “You’re wearing some kind of bra that makes them look larger. As if you got breast implants.”
Certainly that couldn’t be the issue. Even though I was annoyed that he seemed to be trying to sour the mood, I forged ahead gently. “What’s wrong? Is there something else bothering you?”
Robert pretended he didn’t hear me. Pretended to be absorbed in reading the menu.
It was probably best to let the matter drop. I lifted my own menu. “Do you want to do one of the entrées for two? Or decide on a cheese fondue and maybe a couple other items?”
“I’m trying to make up my mind.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
As we both perused the menu in silence, I decided I would let Robert choose our meals. Everything looked great, so it wasn’t as if I’d be disappointed. He was clearly irritable, and I wanted to keep him happy.
It was something I did a lot.
Why shouldn’t you decide? a tiny voice inside me asked.
Before I could even contemplate the question, Alexander arrived again, a warm smile on his attractive face. This time I noticed that he did stare at me before turning to Robert. But he had to look at someone first. Just because it was me didn’t mean he wanted to fuck me.
“We’ve hardly looked at the menu,” Robert all but snapped.
“Take your time.” Alexander clasped his hands together. “But may I start you off with a drink? Some wine or a cocktail?” He looked at me. “Or perhaps a martini.”
“Or perhaps my wife.”
My eyes grew wide with shock and horror. I gaped at my husband before looking at the waiter, who appeared absolutely mortified.
“Excuse me?” Alexander asked.
“Jesus, you’re salivating over her like she’s an item on the menu.”
“Robert, stop it.”
“It’s true,” he insisted calmly. “Isn’t it, Alexander?”
Embarrassment mixed with my horror. I pushed my chair back and stood. I was certain that people around us were overhearing this ridiculous conversation, and I could no longer stay here.
“Sir, I apologize if I somehow—”
“You’re not the one who needs to apologize,” I said, cutting Alexander off. I gave Robert a pointed look, barely keeping my fury contained. And to think I’d been concerned about keeping him happy. I picked up my clutch and my shawl. “We’re leaving.”
“Good idea,” Robert said.
Worry creased the waiter’s brow, almost as if he suspected Robert was the type to lodge a complaint with the manager. If that was his assumption, then he’d read my husband correctly.
Alexander held up both hands, a sign of submission. “If I was disrespectful in any way, I apologize.”
“Next time, look at a woman’s face—not her tits—when you’re speaking to her.”
I heard the words and cringed. For the first time in our marriage, I wanted to slap Robert.
I didn’t dare look around for fear everyone within earshot had heard his crude words. I wanted to meet the waiter’s dejected eyes and tell him that my husband’s high blood pressure medication was making him act like an asshole. But all I could do was head for the door before the embarrassment killed me.
I didn’t stop until the cool evening breeze hit my face. With Robert moving more slowly these days because of his knee, I made it outside before he did. And once there, I wanted to scream.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not with the valet attendants and other patrons nearby.
Robert had been rude on other occasions, more often than I liked these days, but his behavior tonight was completely uncalled for.
Was it his age, his medication, or his growing insecurity? Or was this the real Robert? Had I overlooked his true nature all of these years?
Yes.
The answer sounded in my mind—and it scared me.
Chapter Three
I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders as I stood outside waiting for Robert. I didn’t turn back to see how close he was, or if he’d stopped to complain to the manager. It was just the kind of thing he would do.
Several agonizing seconds passed and no Robert. My curiosity getting the better of me, I turned. He was a couple steps from the entryway.
People were staring in his direction with the kind of interest reserved for tabloids and reality shows.
Despite my anger, I reached for the door and opened it for him. It was something I did all the time, the kind of thing a younger wife did to take care of her elderly husband.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Robert said casually, as though he hadn’t created a public spectacle inside.
I didn’t respond. Just watched as he approached the valet stand and handed in our ticket.
A few minutes later, our yellow Porsche 911 Carrera pulled up to the curb. The young valet who’d brought it held the driver’s door open for Robert, then made his way around the car and opened the passenger door for me.
Not going to accuse him of staring at my tits? I thought sourly.
No, Robert just handed the young man a ten. Then he revved the engine and began to drive.
Angry, I stared ahead blankly. I was going to give Robert the silent treatment if he spoke to me, but he didn’t say a word, either. After a couple of minutes, I glanced his way to gauge his mood. On his face, I saw a contented expression—and if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of smugness. Not at all the look of a man who’d acted so outraged that a waiter had been inappropriately ogling his wife.
If he truly believed that ridiculous claim.
Robert hit a button to turn on the stereo, and classical music filled the car. He thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel like a man who didn’t have a care in the world.
“I say we head to the country club. You can count on professionalism there.”
I turned my gaze from his face to my window. To the country club…gee, what a surprise. Suddenly, I couldn’t help thinking that
