“Sure, Mom,” I concede, dryly. Although Dad has long since forgiven her, I still resent her for what she did. My dad didn’t deserve her cheating. No one does. If you’re unhappy, get divorced. Don’t cheat. It’s ugly. “So, where’s Mark?” I ask.
She flicks her hand, and her bracelets clink again. “Oh, he’s home, probably sitting in his recliner. He’s no fun at events like these,” she says with a huff. I wonder how long this marriage will last.
I go back to staring at Aspen. “What’s got you so fascinated, Ryker?” She follows my gaze. “Oh,” she says, her voice dripping with disgust. “Her.”
My stomach fills with acid, and I flick my eyes to her. I see my mother stiffen; she doesn’t care for Aspen, and she definitely hates Aspen’s mom, though she has no leg to stand on in that regard. Aspen didn’t make my mom cheat, she merely brought it to my attention. Then I see her cast her eyes down at the table, at the clipboard in front of me, and she sees my numbered bid.
“Ryker, is that your bid?!”
I shrug.
“You can’t be serious. What the hell are you bidding $10,000 for? Pies?! For that bitch, Gabby?” she hisses, a seething sea of anger flashing in her pupils.
“Leave it alone. Mom,” I say, measured, swallowing all the rude things I want to say. “It’s for charity.”
“I will not leave it alone!” I look over at her, and she’s about to say something, but wisely, she holds her tongue.
Then she clears her throat and raises an eyebrow. “Trust me, Ryker. You want nothing to do with Aspen. I’ve heard stories about her. She’s just after money and success, and if you get in her way, she’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“I think you’re wrong, Jackie.”
“It’s true,” she adds with eerie calm, and it forces my attention on her. “I’ve heard from a couple people that wanted to invest in her hotel. In fact, one recent one. Robert? People say he pulled out because she was demanding and rude. And don’t get me started on Gabby. With all of her ex-husbands, it’s no wonder those two women are after so much money.” She shrugs, nonchalantly, like her words are the calm truth. “They’re bad news. No wonder Aspen isn’t seeing anyone. No one wants her.”
My chest tightens with shards of ice as I listen to her words. I should know better than to pay any attention to what she’s saying. If anyone in this room has a shady track record, it’s my mother.
But while my mom is telling me these things, I’m watching Aspen, and I guess I do find it interesting that she does seem completely obsessed with success and money. Literally, to the exclusion of all else.
My stomach turns, and doubt creeps in. Maybe she’s not the woman I thought she was. It shouldn’t surprise me; most people are after money. I wonder if her drive for success is more like blind ambition. I let out a bitter exhale.
But then I remember that she did buy that heart-stopping red dress, after saying she wasn’t interested in me. What changed her mind?
“Well, honey, it’s been nice talking. Stay away from that one,” she clucks. “She’s trouble. Trust me. You know I always have my finger on the pulse of the town gossip.”
I turn to face her, and she seems sincere, her cynical eyes almost sad, and for a moment, I think she’s actually trying to protect me. It wouldn’t be the first time. And then the moment passes, and her eyes clear when she adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She opens her purse and pulls out an orange Chanel lipstick and swipes some on her lips. Then she says, “Call me next week. We’ll have lunch.” I nod, and she stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. She’s left a mark. And not just the orange lipstick.
After she leaves, I wipe off her lipstick with the back of my hand.
I look back over at Aspen. I’m not comfortable seeing her with my fresh eyes. My neck feels stiff. I shake my head and wake up. I’ve been wasting my time with her. And I now see she’s already moved on to another person in the room… I count on my hand, one, two, three, four, five. She’s talked—correction, she’s flirted—with five men. I haven’t seen her talk with one female here. I’m seeing things more clearly now. Seeing her more clearly.
Networking, my ass.
Fuck this.
I storm out of the place and get into my car. I roll down the windows and drive home, hoping the warm evening air will relieve the icy cold in my veins. I was stupid. How could I be so blind to her blind ambition? But then, it’s not like she hid it from me. I thought it was innocent, that she was just protecting herself and wanted to establish a little future security.
But watching her flirt all night. I see she has an obsessed, one-track mind. What if I’m the next victim? I get home and storm into the kitchen. I yank open the refrigerator door and grab a beer. The housekeeper has left me some salmon salad, but I have no appetite.
I grab my journal and drink half of the beer while I walk to the deck, my sanctuary. Sitting among the trees, under the stars, will help. I take off my jacket and toss it on the patio chair. I loosen my necktie and take it off and then unbutton the top button on my shirt.
I’m fucking disappointed. Let down. I thought there was something between us. I thought it was just a matter of time before she admitted that we had something special. I’d never felt this way about a woman, and—holy shit—that kiss. I can’t get it out of my mind, and I can’t get that red dress hugging her curves out of my mind either.
But even if
