I knew several pairs of eyes were watching me. Curious, baffled, judging eyes. Because of this, my spine was straighter, my walk sassier, my face devoid of any emotion.
Inside, I was anything but.
I could hear the whispers.
Who is she?
Look at that ring Caleb gave her! And that necklace! Fabulous.
Strafford? Is her family in the same hotel business as the Lockharts? Real estate? Which company do they own?
Look at her dress. Her shoes. I donât think her family owns anything worthwhile. This one was followed by mocking, condescending giggles that two women tried to stifle when I passed.
I ignored them. The champagne they were sipping cost more than my whole outfit. So what? If I let that bother me, Iâd be running from here with my tail between my legs. My mother had taught me better than that.
Caleb deserved more than that.
IÂ deserved more than that.
So I made sure to wear an I-dare-you smile on my lips.
âI hope youâre having a lovely evening so far.â
Calebâs mom practically glided over in a conservative and gorgeous royal-blue dress, hair and makeup perfect, polite smile in place.
âMrs. Lockhart.â My voice cracked.
She was still Mrs. Lockhart, right? I knew Caleb said his parents were divorcedâ¦but was it final yet? He didnât like talking about it so Iâd never asked.
Why didnât I ask? Oh God.
I cleared my throat. âYes, I am. Good evening, maâam. Iâm Veronica.â
âI remember.â
Her tone was courteous, but I sensed that it was loaded with meaning. Was she thinking about that first time we met in jail?
With growing horror, I wondered if she remembered that time when I was sitting outside her sonâs flat, waiting for him like a stalker.
Suddenly, I remembered the gift I had carefully wrapped in a pretty box. I pulled it out of the paper bag and held it out to her. âTh-this is for you. You have a very beautiful home.â
Mrs. Lockhart hesitated just slightly before she accepted the gift. âThank you.â
âThank you for inviting me.â
âOf course. It would be in bad taste if I didnât invite my sonâs fiancée, wouldnât it?â
My stomach dropped.
Her eyes bored into me as she continued without pause. âInteresting choice of dress.â
What should I say? Thank you? It didnât sound like a compliment the way she said it. It sounded like a challenge.
She could probably tell it wasnât designer and was trying to be polite. Or maybeâ¦I narrowed my eyes as I saw Beatrice-Rose coming down from the steps. She had changed into a white gown.
âBeatrice-Rose mentioned you were at the store yesterday when she was trying on the same dress youâre wearing now.â I drew in a sharp breath, and Mrs. Lockhart continued. âThat dress must have made quite an impression on you if youâd risk wearing the same dress sheâs wearing at my sonâs party.â
I blinked slowly, taking a deep breath. Then a second one.
Fuck it.
âI know you donât know me, maâam, and we didnât meet under the best of circumstances, but I can tell you I love your son very much. I would not humiliate him or myself with something as petty as deliberately wearing the same dress as Beatrice-Rose. Or anyone, for that matter.â
She must not have expected that I would defend myself because her eyes widened in surprise.
âBeatrice-Rose has it backward,â I continued. Adrenaline drove me now. âI was trying on this dress yesterday when she came into the shop. It looks like she changed now.â
Mrs. Lockhart looked me directly in the eye for a few seconds before she responded. âYes. She asked me if she could borrow one of my dresses.â
âWell, itâs a good thing she didnât pick the same dress that youâre wearing then.â
Oh God. Did I just really say that?
âPresident Miranda.â
I tried to gather my composure as Mrs. Lockhartâs secretary approached and whispered something in her ear.
âWill you excuse me for a moment, Veronica?â Mrs. Lockhart asked.
I nodded. I couldnât be sure, but I thought I saw a gleam of respect in her eyes before she walked away. My knees felt weak as I watched her.
God. I needed a drink.
âHello, Veronica.â
I shut my eyes tightly for a second before turning.
Why the hell didnât I go with Caleb when he offered?
Because I wanted to prove to him that I could handle his world. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to make myself proud.
Beatrice-Rose looked at me with a smirk on her face. A short and stocky older man with bifocals was holding her arm.
âI donât believe youâve met Joe yet. Joe, this is Veronica, Calebâsâ¦girlfriend.â
âFiancée,â I corrected.
Her lips curled into a hateful sneer before turning into a delighted smile as she looked at Joe, laying her hand on his arm.
âJoe is one of the biggest investors in Miranda Inn. I really donât think the chain could have run as smoothly without you behind it, Joe.â
âCome now, Beatrice-Rose. You flatter me too much.â
âNonsense.â She batted her lashes at him before shifting her gaze back to me. âI was just telling him I should have pursued a career in ballet. I do have the legs for it. Donât you think so, Joe?â She shifted her dress to show off a bit of her leg.
âSure, sweetheart.â
Beatrice-Rose let out a soft giggle. âSuch a sweet talker. Joe also owns several lucrative restaurants around the country. Veronica is a professional when it comes to restaurants. Isnât that right, Veronica?â
âOh, is that right?â Joe looked at me with polite interest.
There was a glint of mischief in Beatrice-Roseâs eyes as she continued, âShe has considerable experience as a waitress, Iâve heard. Isnât that true?â
Joe frowned at Beatrice-Rose.
âAs a matter of fact, it is,â I answered coolly.
Beatrice-Roseâs smile was haughty. âWeâre somewhat short on help right now. Be a sweetheart and bring my glass back to the kitchen, wonât you?â she asked sweetly, offering me her half-empty glass.
My hot temper simmered under my skin as I narrowed my eyes at her. I nearly grabbed the glass and threw the contents in her face. But I kept my arms at my sides.
Then I smiled, baring my teeth.
âIâm sure youâre more than capable of doing it yourself, Beatrice-Rose. Why donât you use those ballerina legs and take your glass back to the kitchen?â I suggested just as sweetly.
Joe choked on his drink. Beatrice-Roseâs face was quickly turning an ugly shade of red.
I didnât care. I was seeing red. If she thought I would take her insults lying down, she had another think coming.
âOh, and, Beatrice-Rose?â I said, batting my eyelashes at her. âTry not to copy anyoneâs dress while youâre on your way to the kitchen.â
A movement behind her caught my eye, and I nearly cried at the sight of Calebâs mother staring at me. Watching.
Damn Beatrice-Rose. Damn them all to hell.
This wasnât my world. I would never fit in. Iâd never wanted to.
I turned to leave.
âVeronica, wait!â Beatrice-Rose exclaimed. She grabbed my hand, and my clutch fell to the ground, almost like she had pulled on it. Its contents spilled.
What happened next was reflex. I jerked back, hitting Beatrice-Rose accidentally and spilling her drink on her dress.
I heard her outraged gasp before I snarled at her. I looked to the ground and was sorely tempted to leave my things there, to just get away from her and her drama.
But my phone was lighting up, vibrating. Calebâs message popped on the screen.
Almost done, Red. Canât wait to dance with you again.
Sighing in frustration, I tamped down my anger and crouched to pick up my things. I froze when I spotted a clear plastic bag, barely hidden under my purse. It had white powder in it.
Blood pounded in my ears, and I felt my face pale. My brain shut off and I stared into space, not seeing, not hearing, not conscious of my surroundings. The next thing I knew, someone was tugging at my arm.
âLetâs get you the hell out of here, Angel Face.â
Damonâs kind blue eyes looked at me with sympathy. What was he doing here?
When I didnât respond, he tugged on my arm again. âCome on. Are you going to let these assholes win?â he whispered in my ear.
His words spurred me on. I stood up straight, remembering to raise my chin and walk steadily. But all the while, I was gripping Damonâs arm very, very hard.
I only realized this when we stopped and he groaned in pain.
âI know I have mouthwatering biceps, but could you loosen your grip?â
I blinked, mumbling an apology as I did just that. I looked around and realized he had taken us to the gazebo.
Still shaken, I leaned against a post and stared at the darkness surrounding us where the flowers around the gazebo werenât illuminated by lights. I wished the darkness could hide me too.
âOh God,â I whimpered, covering my face with my hands.
Damon sighed. He gently tugged my hands away from my face. âItâs okay, Angel Face.â
He was leaning in front of me, his face level with mine.
âIt was really cool to watch you spill that drink on the blond. She looked very, very mad.â Damon laughed, tapping my chin playfully with his thumb. âTell me, did you do it on purpose?â
He straightened up, lacing his fingers together and raising his arms upward in a long stretch. I noticed he was wearing the standard black-and-white server uniform. He looked striking, with his longish dark hair and a silver earring winking from his earlobe.
He let out a lazy groan of satisfaction as he completed his stretch and looked down at me with a big smile. When I didnât return the smile, he leaned beside me against the post, bumping his shoulder against mine teasingly.
âHey, smile. You probably just got me fired.â
I frowned.
He laughed. âThis gig sucks. Iâd rather be serving drinks at a bar or playing my guitar. If Iâm being honest, I was looking for a way out. So really, you saved me.â He winked. âTheyâre not very nice people here.â
I bit my lip, shutting my eyes as I remembered the scene with the not-very-nice people.
âGum?â
When I opened my eyes, he was waving a stick of gum in front of my face. I shook my head at him.
âAre you sure? Itâs cupcake flavored.â
When I whimpered, he unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.
âWhoa. Okay, no gum.â He fished something out of his apron pocket and brandished my clutch in front of me. âI got it here. See? Donât cry. Please.â
âDamon! Oh God. Thanks.â I grabbed it from him, sending him a grateful look. I opened it and saw that he had picked up all my stuff. When I saw the plastic bag filled with white powder, my vision turned red again.
âYes, donât mention it. Iâve always wondered why women bring these tiny bags with them. I mean, do they like it that theyâre always holding something at a party?â He scratched his head. âItâs so small. What could you possibly fit in there? But now I know.â
I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but everything was coming back to me now.
Especially the anger.
âCalebâs mom probably thinks Iâm a cokehead.â
Probably thinks I was the one who planted the drugs in Calebâs car. Oh God.
âI donât think she saw it, whatever that thing is. Is it really coke? Geez, Angel Face. I didnât know you were into that.â
âNo, no! God. This day is officially shot to hell.â A strangled laugh escaped me. âItâs not mine, Damon. I donât know why itâs there. I⦠Beatrice-Rose probably planted it there. Iâm going to kill her!â
I was breathing hard. My eyes filled, tears threatening to spill.
âOkay, letâs think about this for a second,â Damon interjected. âDo you have proof?â
âI donât need proof. Didnât you see what happened? She planted the drugs in Calebâs car, wore the same dress, knocked my purse out of my hand deliberately⦠My God, Iâm going to tear off those demonâs hairs one byââ
Damon raised both his hands, palms up. âListen, I share your feelings. But there are many witnesses at the momentâ¦so why donât we just breathe in and out, okay? Thatâs good. Breathe in. Breathe out.â
I did just that for a few moments. He was right. When I was feeling slightly calmer, I looked up at him gratefully.
âYouâre very good at this,â I commented.
He shrugged. âI have experience with Kar. Do you know how many times I had to keep her from killing someone when we were kids?â
âKar! Oh my God. I have to call her and check in.â
I rummaged for my phone in my clutch.
âI thought she came here with you.â
âDamonâ¦â I started cautiously. âI guess you didnât hear about it yet. There was a fire at the garage.â
âWhat?â Fear leapt into his eyes, and his voice shook.
My stomach clenched as I remembered the wreck in the garage.
âTell me everyone is okay.â
I nodded. âDonât worry. Everyone is safe.â
Relief washed over his face. âWhat happened?â
âAccording to the police, a group of kids set fire to the shop. You know there are chemicals and equipment there. It burned half of the shop andââ
I gasped as I felt a strong hand grip my arm from behind, whipping me around. Cameronâs intense blue eyes drilled into mine with urgency and pain.
âKara? Is she okay?â Cameron asked.
âSheâs okay. Everyone is okay.â
He swallowed in relief, releasing me from his hold. âI have to go,â he said, looking at something over my shoulder.
I turned around and spotted Caleb standing there. His jaw was hard, his eyes cold with anger. And he was looking right at me.