He didn’t return the compliment. Instead, his lips twisted down grimly as he held out my long black coat, wrapping it around my shoulders. His voice was cold. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I said, although I’d never felt less ready in my life. We left the house, getting into the backseat of the waiting car.
“How was your audition today?” he asked abruptly as his driver closed the car door.
As the driver pulled the car smoothly from the curb, I looked at Edward, suddenly uneasy. I licked my lips. “It was...surprising, actually.”
“You’re lying,” he said flatly. “You didn’t even go.”
“I did go,” I said indignantly. “I just didn’t stay, because... Wait.” I frowned. “How do you know?”
“The director is a friend of mine. He was going to give you special consideration.” Edward glared at me. “He called me this afternoon to say you never even bothered to show. You lied to me.” He tilted his head. “And this isn’t the first time, is it?”
Lifting my chin, I looked him full in the face. “I haven’t done a single audition since we got here.”
He looked staggered. “Why?”
I tried to shrug, to act like it didn’t matter. “I didn’t feel like it.”
His jaw tightened. “So you’ve lied to me for the last two months. And every morning before I left for work, I wished you good luck... I feel like a fool. Why did you lie?”
As the car wove through the Friday evening traffic on Kensington Road, I saw the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, the ornate monument to Queen Victoria’s young husband whom she’d mourned for forty years after he died. I took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Well, you have.” His jaw went tight as he looked out at the passing lights of the city reflected in the rain. We turned north, toward Mayfair. “I didn’t take you for a liar. Or a coward.”
It was like being stabbed in the heart. I took a shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me the director was your friend?”
“I wanted you to think you’d gotten the part on your own.”
“Because you think I can’t?”
He shook his head grimly. “You hadn’t gotten a single role. I thought I could help. I didn’t tell you because...” He set his jaw. “It just feels better to be self-made.”
“How would you know?” I cried.
I regretted the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Hurt pride had made me cruel. But as I opened my mouth to apologize, the car stopped. Our door opened.
Edward gave me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Time to party.”
He held out his arm stiffly on the sidewalk. I took it, feeling wretched and angry and ashamed all at once. We walked into the party, past a uniformed doorman.
Rupert St. Cyr, Edward’s cousin, had a lavish mansion, complete with an indoor pool, a five-thousand-bottle wine cellar, a huge gilded ballroom with enormous crystal chandeliers hanging from a forty-foot ceiling and very glamorous, wealthy people dancing to a jazz quartet.
“Congratulations!”
“You old devil, I don’t know how you did it. Well done.”
Edward smiled and nodded distantly as people came up to congratulate him on the business deal. I clutched his arm as we walked toward the coat room.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry I ever tried to help you,” he said under his breath.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” I bit my lip. “But something happened at the audition today, something that you should...”
“Spare me the excuses,” he bit out. He narrowed his eyes. “This is exactly why I usually end love affairs after a few weeks. Before all the lies can start!”
I stopped, feeling sick and dizzy. “You’re threatening to break up with me? Just because I didn’t go to auditions?”
“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
