Chapter 6
Kathryn
Three days went by in a blur. I cried and I raged when I wasn’t walking around like a zombie. By Tuesday, I was numb. Zane had started texting me an hour after I threw him out of the apartment, but I’d ignored it. The texts were coming from a different number—obviously the second phone his wife didn’t know about.
I didn’t read them, and I didn’t respond to them. I deleted them in bulk every few hours, and eventually, I put a notification block on them. I didn’t want to hear my phone chime or feel it buzz every time I got one of his messages. I didn’t know how many times he actually tried to contact me. I didn’t count. But over three days, I knew there were at least fifty that came through, probably more.
I felt like trash. I was ‘the other woman,’ the mistress I would despise in any other situation. I’d been duped, sure, but I could have done my research sooner. I could have walked away at any time. I could have stopped giving him the benefit of the doubt or said my so-long when I uncovered the first lie. But I’d gone along with it.
I’d fallen for a man I didn’t know, a married man who couldn’t even tell me the truth. I hated thinking that I might still have kept seeing Zane knowing he was married, but if he’d just been completely honest from the start and told me that he was trying to get a divorce but had some issues to resolve, I probably would have continue to feel things out. It was the lies that were the kicker.
To make matters worse, he was still hiding things from me. The least he could have done was tell the whole truth, like I’d asked. I would have listened without judgment and determined the best course of action. Hell, I’d been on the verge of relenting when the stupid phone rang. But when he’d pulled out that second phone, I saw red. I’d been played for a fool by Jarrett, and while the situation was different, I felt like Zane had done the same thing, or maybe worse. Jarrett was a liar and a cheater, but he wasn’t married to someone else, and he hadn’t gone to such extremes to hide it from me.
I had no idea what else Zane had to hide, though, and that was even more of a red flag. If things were so complicated between Zane and his wife that he literally couldn’t file for divorce right away, he at least owed me a full explanation, especially if he wanted to keep me hanging on. .
But he wouldn’t even tell me what was going on between him and his wife. A marriage of convenience was one thing. If that was true, he should be able to tell me what these supposed conditions were and why he couldn’t get out of the contract. It made me wonder if he was doing something illegal, too. Crystal and I had questioned his involvement in Samantha’s supposed insider trading scam, but we’d both basically discounted the idea.
But if that was the case, I didn’t want anything to do with Zane. The last thing I needed in my life was to end up being implicated in some big insider trading ring and end up in prison. Best case scenario, I’d be dragged into court as a material witness, which would still make me look bad at work, not to mention disrupting my life in general.
As I sat at my desk on Tuesday with all of this running through my head, I looked at the clock and flinched. It was after noon, time for lunch, and I’d accomplished precious little. I’d have to focus much harder in the afternoon.
Gathering my purse and phone and locking my computer, I headed out to lunch, trying to decide what I wanted to eat. My appetite had suffered greatly over the last few days, to the point that Crystal was growing concerned. Usually, when either of us had something tragic happen, we stuffed our faces with junk until we were ready to explode. But I couldn’t even stomach chips and chocolate and soda. I’d mostly lived of coffee for the last three days, with a random piece of toast or granola bar that my roommate forced me to eat.
It showed, too. When I looked in the mirror, my face was drawn and my eyes sunken. My dresses were looser than usual, too. Between my sorrow, shame, and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I looked malnourished.
On the way out the door, one of my coworkers asked if I’d like to join a group of them going to a sushi bar around the corner. I declined, not wanting to be sociable at all. I didn’t feel like gossiping and faking laughter. My soul was too bruised and battered.
However, sushi actually sounded pretty good. It would be cool and fresh on a hot day, and because it was in small portions, I could probably fire down an entire serving without getting ill. I went the opposite direction of the restaurant they were headed to, aiming for another small place about five blocks away.
I found an empty table in the corner, out of the way of most of the traffic that would come through. It was unlikely that anyone who knew me would come here and even less likely that they would see me in the dark corner if they did show up. I relaxed a little in the solitude of my corner, and I stared out the window. Then, another devastating thought occurred to me.
The man in the car with Samantha, when she’d been waiting across from my apartment, hadn’t sounded familiar at the time. But I’d never gotten a look at his face. He had dark hair, and that was about all I knew. Zane had so many different faces I couldn’t keep everything straight. Two names – Zane and Alexander. Two jobs – owner of a high end nightclub and lowly bartender at a dive. Two phones – one for his mistress and one for everyone else. And two stories to explain every lie he told.
Was it possible that he was a completely different person when he was with his wife? He certainly seemed to fear her, so maybe he was weaker when she was around. I couldn’t discount the possibility that he’d been the man in the Lincoln with Samantha, and that he had purposely deflected her from me by leading her to believe that Crystal was the mistress she was looking for.
That would be incredibly despicable.
My plate arrived, and I opened my chopsticks. I did okay chewing and swallowing the first two segments of my Tiger Roll, and I gained some confidence that I would be able to finish the other four. It was delicious, and just the act of eating something real made me feel better. Maybe after eating, I could be more myself and get through the rest of the day’s work.
But as I maneuvered the third piece between the chopsticks and brought it to my mouth, I heard a voice that was vaguely familiar, and it sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t hear what was being said, only the tone and inflection, but I had a bad feeling about it as I glanced up from my plate and gazed carefully around the restaurant for the source.
Three tables up and on the opposite side of the aisle sat Samantha, with two women and a man that, while not as sexy as Zane, was really easy on the eyes. She didn’t smile as she spoke. In fact, as she held conversation with the others, her expression changed so little I wondered if she’d recently had Botox injections. It was an emotionless mask.
I was disgusted with myself because I became mesmerized by her lack of reaction to anything and the way she seemed disconnected from everyone at the table with her. When she ate, she picked the sushi up with the tips of her forefinger and thumb, placed it on her tongue, and drew it into her mouth without ever touching her perfectly made up, rose-colored lips. She sipped her drink from a straw with the same precision, leaving little lipstick residue on the straw and not marring her makeup in any way.
It was fascinating, but I didn’t want to watch her. I hated her as much as I disliked Zane at the moment.
I trained my eyes on my food, no longer feeling so good about being able to eat. I pushed the food around on the plate, determined not to make eye contact with her. The last thing I wanted was a public confrontation, and even if she didn’t recognize me, I had difficulty controlling my temper each time I glanced up at her through my lashes. I kept checking to make sure she wasn’t looking at me, and I knew I needed to find a way to escape. I hoped she would excuse herself and go to the restroom to check her makeup, but she stayed put.
The clock ticked, and I realized I was going to have to walk right past her to get out the door. Otherwise, I would be late getting back to work. With my inefficient morning, I didn’t need any other factors marring my record at the medical center.
The waiter came with the check, and I gave him a compulsory smile as I handed him my debit card. He returned quickly, and I scribbled in the tip, total, and a signature. Staring at what was left on my plate, I forced myself to fire down one more segment, finishing off at least half of the order. It was better than nothing.
But when I glanced up to see if I could sneak past Samantha and her entourage, I found those disarming gray eyes staring right back at me.
I swallowed hard as she said something stern and scathing that I couldn’t hear, though I knew it was nasty because of the way her face moved.
She stood and walked right up to my table, sneering at me. Her hatred and disgust made her gorgeous features ugly, and I wanted to tell her that. Anything I could say to insult the woman would have made me happy. At the same time, I felt she was dangerous, so I kept my mouth shut.
In a voice filled with derision, she said, “I know you. I saw you at that bitch’s apartment.”
“Excuse me?” I said, quirking a brow. I wasn’t denying that she’d seen me. I didn’t care at this point. But to refer to Crystal as a bitch pissed me off.
“You’re that little whore’s roommate, aren’t you?” she asked, ignoring my question and looking me up and down as I stood up. Her judgmental gaze told me how little she thought of my appearance and of me as a person. I was just some cheap, average woman to her, and she had no problem letting me know it.
She was cold and calculating, and I knew what she was doing. She wanted to make me feel small. But I was livid at her reference to Crystal – or the mistress she thought Crystal was – being a whore. She didn’t know me from Ivana Trump, and I wasn’t going to take such a personal affront lightly.
Copping an attitude that matched Samantha’s, I rested my hands on my hips and squared my shoulders, staring her right in the eyes and forgetting how creepy they could be. Nothing was going to stop me now. “You know, you think you’re so smart, so smooth. And you think you’re better than everyone around you. You aren’t even paying attention to the people over there who probably think they’re your friends. Maybe if you paid a little more attention, you’d get your facts straight.”
I paused for a fraction of a second, seeing the confusion in her eyes that remained masked with her lack of expression.
She was good.
I didn’t care in that moment what getting into an argument with her did to Zane. This was about me and my pride, and my loyalty to Crystal. I added, “You’re pretty stupid, if you think the woman you threatened is Zane’s mistress. Take a good look, sweetheart, because the woman he wants is standing right in front of you!”
Her face still didn’t move, but the stunned look in her eyes was priceless. She took it in stride, though, and I realized I’d underestimated what a coldhearted bitch she really was. Giving me a ghost of a smirk, she said, “Wow, you really are low, aren’t you? To think you’d let your friend take the fall for you! And it’s obvious, getting a better look at you, that Zane’s lowered his standards several notches.”
Seething, I had to fight the urge to slap her across that perfectly accented cheek. I wanted to see her nose bleed, wanted a giant bruise to mar her beauty. I wanted her to look as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside. I stepped closer, getting right in her face.
In a low tone filled with every negative emotion I’d been bottling up, I told her, “You wouldn’t know the first thing about loyalty. You’re a selfish, spoiled brat who thinks she can push people around. I am more loyal to my roommate than you could ever be to anyone, so don’t you accuse me of being low. You’re the one who’s low. In fact, I know for a fact you aren’t so squeaky clean.”
Samantha’s entire body stilled, frozen in the moment. She went completely cold, and I could almost feel a stiff, chilled breeze blowing off her skin. When she opened her mouth to speak again, I almost expected to see her breath in the air. Or maybe dragon flames. Neither would have surprised me at that moment.
Staring at me, she took a step back, and I could see her patience growing thin, if she’d had any to begin with. “Well, I’m very sorry to hear that.”
I was finished. I didn’t need to hear anything else from her, and I was already going to have to rush to get back to the office on time. I grabbed my purse and my keys, and I stalked past her, making sure I bumped her shoulder pretty hard as I passed.
I was absolutely furious as I walked back to work, and it fueled my pace so I got there with a couple of minutes to spare. I knew I’d probably just given that woman every excuse to come for me, but I didn’t care. If she hurt me, I was willing to bet Zane would step forward.
It was one thing I could count on Zane for. Whether he ever managed to make things right with me or not, he would make sure his wife paid for hurting me, especially since he wouldn’t want to be pinned for the crimes himself.
It gave me solace and a bit of relief, and I managed to sit down and start blasting through the tasks I’d ignored all day.