“Who was that?”
I wriggled my hand out of his sweaty grasp. “Don’t touch me.”
“Was that him? I saw the name. Marcus or Matthew or something like that. Are you seeing someone?!”
His voice was erratic, wavering over the words. He sounded desperate and looked even worse.
“Keep it down,” I pleaded. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, Calvin, but you need to go. Now.”
“I came because we need to talk!” Calvin snapped. “Without the damn lawyers. Just you and me.”
“What makes you think I would ever want to be in a room with you alone?” I shouldn’t have argued back, but suddenly I couldn’t help it. “Honestly. The restraining order might have expired, but my distaste for you has not. I don’t know why you decided to come here tonight, but it was a mistake. We are all but finished with each other. It’s over.”
Before he could say another word, I turned on my heel and made my escape down the hall. I needed to find Matthew and warn him. And then we needed to leave. Immediately.
“Nina! Nina, come back here!” Calvin shouted.
I ignored him, looking for the entrance to the ballroom. The hall was filling up, and so thankfully I was able to slip between other guests and avoid the attendant collecting everyone’s phones. At the far end, I spotted a familiar girl holding a clipboard and a walkie-talkie and quickly crossed the room.
“Angela?” I said, tapping her on the shoulder. “You’re Cora’s assistant, aren’t you?”
She turned. “Um, yes, Ms. de Vries, right?”
I nodded. Good, she knew me. “Yes. I just wanted to ask why my husband is here. Calvin Gardner. I did not request an invite for him.” I glanced over my shoulder. No Calvin. I lowered my voice. “We are estranged, you see.”
The girl colored. “Oh—I—oh, no, that’s my fault. P-please don’t mention it to Cora. She would be so furious. She expects us to know these sorts of things.”
I softened, but only just. “Can I ask how, exactly, he got a ticket to the most exclusive party in the world without Cora’s okay?”
“He, um, called earlier this week, asking for his ticket to be sent to him directly because he was away on business,” said the girl. “I didn’t think you would mind considering he was your husband and all. I’m so sorry, Ms. de Vries. I just assumed he was your plus-one!”
I gritted my teeth. Stupid girl. For once, I actually wanted someone to know my sordid tabloid history, and she was oblivious.
“Okay,” I said, thinking fast as I caught Calvin shoving his way through the crowd, eyes on me and murder all over his face. If he saw Matthew, that would be it. “You can make it up to me. There’s a man in the ballroom in a blue Givenchy tuxedo. He has black hair, green eyes, a few inches taller than me, and his name is Matthew. Look for a young Cary Grant.”
“Who?”
I sighed impatiently. “He’s very, very handsome, all right?”
The girl nodded, though her cheeks pinked with excitement. “Hot guy in a blue suit. Got it.”
“I need you to find him and tell him to meet me by the Greek statues downstairs. Tell him we need to leave immediately.”
“Got it. Okay.”
The girl hurried off in the direction of the ballroom. I spotted Jane and Eric near one of the exhibits in the new hall, canoodling openly without a care for their potential audience, and decided that would be a better way to distract my errant husband.
“Eric! Jane!” I called out, waving so they would see me. I hated to interrupt such a heated moment, but this was important. Lord, I really should have told them everything.
“Oh my God,” Jane said as I approached. “Nina, you look amazing. And so tall!”
“Hey!” I looked down at myself and then back up. As a member of the planning committee, Jane had elected to get ready here much earlier, and so while she had seen my dress, of course, she had not seen the full effect of my stylist’s work. My strappy silver heels were a bit taller than the ones I usually wore, I supposed, lending to the more statuesque look.
“Thank you,” I started to say, but my other announcement was ruined when both Jane and Eric’s faces dropped at what could only be one thing.
Calvin.
“Nina!” he barked at me, huffing as he shoved aside several people, ignoring the others who followed the commotion. “We weren’t done. I want to know who the hell has been texting you, and I want to know now.”
I turned around, straightening to my full height. In these shoes, I had at least six inches over the man, and for the first time, I truly didn’t care. For years he had put me in kitten heels, even flats whenever we took part in social engagements together, balancing our height difference with preposterous lifts in his own shoes. Now I wanted nothing more than to intimidate him as he had done to me for so long.
“Calvin, don’t,” I said sharply. “This is not the time nor the place. I beg of you, just let it go. It’s only a friend. I promise.”
He clearly didn’t believe me—and neither did Jane and Eric, if their raised brows were any indication.
“Just a friend,” Calvin sneered. “It’s that Italian who showed up at the house, isn’t it? What was his name? Mark? Michael?”
“Matthew. His name was Matthew,” I said before I could stop myself.
Then I felt like my breath was caught in my ribs. Matthew had been going to the house? Or was he talking about last year, when I would occasionally see him lurking around the corner, checking on me? Did Calvin know about that too?
Oh God, I hoped the girl had found him in time and convinced him to leave.
