SERENA

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I USED A LITTLE HANDHELD mirror to fix my face and hair as the car headed up the palm-lined drive toward the hotel. Crying hadn’t done me any favors. I repaired my makeup the best I could and made do with my hair down, using one of the glittering art deco hair clips that had been in my up-do as a side barrette.

“You make an entrance with me,” he said. “Let the room get a nice long look at a wife who adores her husband, then you keep as far away from me as possible.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why do I have to keep my distance if you’re in no danger?”

“I can’t have you tagging along and screwing something up.”

His insult did not allay my fears. By the time the car rolled up to the entrance, Mac’s stern expression had been replaced with his game face. And I played my part, smiling up at him as we entered the hall, the completely enamored wife.

He turned to face me, tracing the edge of my hair with the backs of his fingers. “It just occurred to me people might not recognize you. From punk to Snow White.”

“Snow White?”

“Shiny black hair, crystal blue eyes, pale, perfect skin.”

I opened my eyes wide in surprise. That was positively romantic coming from him. “I’ll take Snow White. She’s sweet and kind.”

His mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “I compared your coloring, babe, not your personality.”

I frowned at him. “Anyway, I think you’re wrong. I believe she has brown eyes in the animated film.”

“Serena, darlin’, you really need to let go of my hand.”

“And I really don’t want to.” I gave his big hand one last squeeze before releasing it.

I watched as he strode across the floor and realized I'd just shown up with the star of the party. He was the man everybody had been waiting to talk to. All these people had bought his cover, thought he was a corporate heavyweight. He could have made a killing in business, instead he’d chosen a much tougher profession.

Mac made a point of greeting Ward Payne, who stood in the center of the room, looking pathetically like a man trying to make certain he wouldn’t be overlooked. Tillie, Ward’s wife, spotted me and left her husband’s side.

My mother and Tillie had been close friends. Tillie had been a little wild in those days. Now she looked like the perfect corporate wife.

“How are you, dear?” It was reassuring to see that despite the sleek grooming there was still a twinkle in her eye. “I wanted to come to Douglas’s funeral, but Ward insisted it wasn't safe. He can be such a bore.”

I remembered how she and my mother would laugh uproariously as they scrap-booked together, a pitcher of some colorful cocktail on the table between them.

“The flowers were beautiful. Thank you,” I said. She’d sent a huge bouquet of my mother's favorites; sunflowers, purple daisies, lavender-colored roses. But then I couldn’t fault her, I myself didn’t know whether my father had had any preferences in flowers.

Tillie took my arm and introduced me around. I knew some of the people, of course, but the company had hundreds of employees and I had only met a small fraction of them over the years. I felt a fraud exchanging pleasantries, accepting their condolences. What would happen to all these peoples’ jobs when the worst came to light? Would the life-saving, quality products they had begun producing again be enough reason to keep the company operating?

Tillie stranded me with a group of younger people who worked for a longtime company vendor. I managed some small talk then excused myself and walked across the floor to the bar. I ordered a sparkling water. I thought I was bodyguard free until I caught a glimpse in the bar mirror of the elegant man who’d sat beside Tom in the passenger seat. He was most definitely shadowing me.

I sipped the water and strolled the room. I checked the big clock on the wall. Time was moving at a standstill. I wanted the evening to be over, to be home and safely in bed with Mac. I made a deal with myself. I was allowed to look for him once every hour to make sure everything was okay. I glanced at the big clock again. Starting now, I decided, and began scanning the room.

My heart rate ticked up when I couldn’t find him. I swiveled on my heels as I did a more thorough three-sixty search of the room. I let out my held breath when I found him amid a group of tuxedo-clad men. He was staring straight at me. He’d clearly caught my frantic survey of the room. I let my gaze linger for awhile and then blew him a kiss. He narrowed his eyes, a warning that I’d better behave.

A woman called my name and I swiveled on my heels to find Marilyn, who had been my father’s personal secretary for decades, hurrying toward me. “Serena, you look absolutely stunning.”

“So do you,” I said and gave her a hug and was enveloped in a familiar scent. As long as I’d known her she’d worn the same signature perfume of roses and jasmine. She’d always been a beautiful woman and, if it was possible, she’d become more beautiful with age. Her hair had gone completely gray, actually it had gone an amazing platinum shade that young women paid good money to achieve. And she wore it short and cut to perfection. Somehow it managed to be both hip and sophisticated at the same time. This was the woman that my mother had been convinced my father was having an affair with.

“Did you know your dad used to bring me madeleines dipped in chocolate from the coffee shop? And he never forgot my birthday.” She used the cocktail napkin she held as a tissue to pat away her tears. “Mr. Sutton doesn’t have a soft side like your father.” I wondered if I should remind her that I was married to him, but I saw it dawn in her eyes.

She gave my arm a quick touch. “A total professional. Makes him so easy to work for. No papers strewn around his desk.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “It took a half an hour every evening just to straighten your father’s desk.”

Marilyn had loved my father, I realized suddenly. Is that what my mother had picked up on and assumed those feelings were reciprocated by my father?

As Marilyn continued to speak nostalgically about my father’s bad habits, I spotted Ryan out of the corner of my eye. He was talking with a small crowd only feet away from us. I hadn’t considered what it would be like to see him again.

He lurched suddenly across the space separating us, his long feet nearly stepping on my toes.

“How’s married life?” he asked. It was an accusation masquerading as a question. Marilyn’s gaze skipped from Ryan to me. Clearly deciding she’d rather not be part of our reunion, Marilyn gave me a quick peck on the cheek, straightened Ryan’s slightly askew tie then left us standing awkwardly together. Awkward for me, at least. Ryan appeared to be a little drunk. Had I’d ever seen him drunk before?

I smiled, my lips trembling slightly. “I tried calling you. You never returned my calls.”

His pale green eyes were watery and looked blurry behind his eyeglasses. “I’m no match for that husband of yours.”

He took a swallow of his martini. I wondered how he managed to drink through his gritted teeth. “I had the ring all picked out and everything.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know what to say.”

He gestured with his glass, splashing some of the contents onto the floor. “Who marries someone on the day of their father’s funeral?” His boyish voice was unmodulated. I glanced around nervously. His behavior had attracted some attention.

He tilted a bit. “Fuck you're beautiful,” he said, taking another swig. “He doesn’t deserve you.” Ryan never cursed. He was clearly much drunker than I’d first realized.

He gestured with his glass. It seemed to be empty save for an olive on a toothpick. “What I want to know is why you didn’t refuse your father?”

I took his arm and with some coaxing steered him toward the open doors that led to the terrace. Despite it being a warm night, they’d turned on the patio heaters. I led him toward the wrought iron railing so he’d have something to steady himself on.

“I hired a private investigator. He got that little tidbit from a nurse in the ICU.”

“What tidbit?”

“That your father pushed for the marriage. She said that was the only thing he talked about before he died.”

He slammed the martini glass on the railing and the thin stem snapped. “What was the purpose? To ensure your inheritance somehow? And you being daddy’s good girl, you didn’t ask any questions?”

There was no point in telling him how I’d rebelled against the idea at first, how I’d reached out to him for help only to be ignored.

He hurled what was left of the glass into the garden below. “Daddy dearest has been dead for months. What’s your excuse for still being with that asshole?”

His anger rattled me. “You were the one who ghosted me,” I reminded him.

I heard footsteps behind me as someone joined us on the terrace. My bodyguard had probably decided it was time to neutralize this scene. Hopefully, that would involve nothing more than escorting Ryan from the party.

I glanced over my shoulder. Not the bodyguard. Mac had decided to handle the situation himself.

Ryan turned to him, his jaw jutting aggressively. “Her father was dying. I can excuse her behavior. But you! You had no right to take advantage.”

“It’s done, man. You need to move on,” Mac said.

Ryan leaned toward me. “Serena, you can’t be happy with this son-of-a-bitch. Let me pay for a divorce lawyer.”

Mac’s entire frame seemed to tense. “Shit, boy, liquor sure makes you brave.” The Texas drawl was thicker than I’d ever heard it. “Do you want me to shut your mouth for you or do you think you can manage to do that all on your own?”

“I don’t want to divorce him,” I said, throwing my opinion into the mix. I wasn’t sure it would break through the testosterone barrier around the two men.

But Mac heard it, he glanced in my direction.

Marilyn, her phone pressed to her ear, her high heels clacking officiously on the tiles, joined our happy little group. Mac jerked his head around to look at her.

“I’m calling for a taxi,” she told him.

He gave her a nod.

Thank God for Marilyn, I thought. Efficient as ever.

“Wonder if this gate works?” Marilyn asked crossing to the far right of the terrace. She wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear and fiddled with the latch. I hurried to help her, but ended up doing little but lifting the sagging gate slightly so Marilyn could finesse the rusty latch.

“Perfect,” she said, as the gate finally swung free. “It looks like we can head down that path to the courtyard.”

“My father always said you were invaluable.”

Her lips curled into a pleased smile.

With the same purposeful stride, Marilyn approached Ryan, who stood with a white-knuckled grip on the railing. I couldn’t tell what she said to him, but I could hear the soothing tone. Eventually he released his hold and let her lead him down the steps.

Mac took my arm and spun me around. “What the fuck were you thinking, bringing him out here alone?”

“I’m sure you heard him shouting. I think everybody in there did. I was afraid of what he might say.”

His body was rigid with tension.

“I didn’t tell him why we got married. A nurse in Intensive Care told the investigator he hired.”

He continued to glare at me.

“I absolutely did not blow your cover,” I said in a hushed voice.

His shoulders remained stiff.

“What then? Did you think that I was hiking up my skirt and wiggling my bare bottom with your handprints all over it?” I pulled in a quick breath.

His lips tipped into an almost smile and his body relaxed some. Amazing, it had been just plain old jealousy that had upset him.

“So you don’t really want to divorce me?”

“Well, technically it would be impossible since we aren’t really married.”

“We’ll renew our vows when this is all over.”

“Renew them?” I asked in disbelief.

“I’m holding you to the first vows you made to me.”

“But the whole thing was staged.”

“Doesn’t erase the fact that you pledged yourself to me.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip.  “We’ll get the particulars right next time,” he added.

“Particulars? You mean like a legally binding license?” I said with sarcasm.

“Stop sassing me for one second, brat, I need to tell you something.” He took my hand and led me away from the door to a part of the terrace that was dimly lit. “This seems to be leading down another rabbit hole—”

“I thought you just needed to tie up a few things.”

“I just learned something that complicates matters. I’m still hoping to wrap this up fast, but there’s a possibility I may not be around for awhile.” He stroked my hair and kissed my lips and looked at me with eyes softer and warmer then I'd ever seen them. “Do exactly what Tom tells you. Exactly. Understand?”

I nodded.

He whisked his arm around my waist and we entered the room a united couple to put any scandalous whispers to rest.