揑 convinced Dad to let me handle some business. There抯 a guy on the Mets he wants to sign.?She pauses. 揑 would have called卋ut you got married.?
There抯 no mistaking the bite in the word, but I don抰 owe her an explanation. 揥ere you at the wedding??I抦 guessing the Garners were invited.
Her whole expression tightens. 揅ouldn抰 make it.?
揟hat抯 a shame.?
揧ou never said a word.?
I sip some bourbon. 揥ould it have mattered, Hannah??
揝carlett Ellsworth? Really, Crew??
揔ensington,?I correct. Hannah抯 brow furrows. 揌er name is Scarlett Kensington now.?
At that, she scoffs. 揅hanging her last name doesn抰 change the fact she抯 uppity and entitled, with the emotional capacity of an iceberg. You could have done better.?
The rush of anger takes me off-guard. Our sexual escapades aside, I consider Hannah a friend. I rode here next to evidence that Scarlett is cold and closed-off. But iceberg or not, she抯 still my wife. I tighten my grip on the glass, allowing plenty of ire to infiltrate my voice. 揑nsult my wife again, and this will be our last conversation, Hannah.?
揅ome on, Crew. No one expects you to be loyal to her. You married her for her money.?
Guests start filing inside the banquet room where dinner will be served. 揟ry me,?I tell her, then start to walk away.
Her hand grabs mine before I make it more than a couple of steps. 揑抦 here through Wednesday. Staying in my usual suite at The Carlyle.?
I shake her hand off and keep walking.
Scarlett is already seated at our assigned table when I enter the large hall. I say nothing as I take the chair beside her. Polite chatter echoes around us.
Her finger traces the rim of a champagne glass, filling some of the silence with a subtle hum. She sighs, then downs the contents with one final gulp.
揟hirsty??
揃ored.?
揑抦 finding the evening highly entertaining,?I reply, just to needle her.
揑抦 sure you are,?she mutters, looking away at the stage.
She must have noticed me talking to Hannah. With any other woman, I抎 think she was jealous. Since it抯 Scarlett, I抦 guessing she抯 miffed I抦 enjoying myself.
Jennifer Rutherford梩he hostess tonight梐ppears on stage. Everyone still standing hurries to their seats as the crowd quiets. I zone out as she starts speaking, thanking everyone for coming tonight and sharing plans for the renovations they抮e fundraising for tonight. It抯 not until I hear my name mentioned that I zone back in on the conversation.
搮and Crew Kensington, whose generous contributions ensured we抳e already met tonight抯 goal.?
Contributions? I glance at Scarlett as loud applause sounds around us. 揧ou wrote a check??I ask, quietly enough no one else at our table can hear.
揑t抯 a fundraiser,?she whispers back in the you抮e an idiot tone I抦 becoming quite familiar with. 揙f course I donated.?
揧ou could have told me. It looks strange for us to make two separate donations.?
揑 didn抰 feel like elbowing my way past the blonde.?
I want to scoff at that, but I keep a smile pasted on my face instead. It remains in place for the rest of Jennifer抯 speech and through dinner. I抦 seated next to Howard Burton, a hedge fund manager a few years younger than my father. He prattles on about market trends while I shove lemon risotto and seared duck into my mouth.
Once dinner ends, seats get rearranged. Howard and his wife gravitate toward the silent auction set up in the next room. Scarlett is talking with Katherine Billings, who is sitting on her other side. I抦 about to go get another drink when Asher takes Howard抯 empty seat.
I raise both eyebrows at him. 揑 thought you weren抰 coming tonight.?
He slouches in his seat. 揈h, changed my mind.?
揧our dad??
揧ep.?Asher rolls his eyes. His father loves the status of getting invited to events like this, but rarely has the follow-through to actually attend. It抯 the same reason Asher ended up working at Kensington Consolidated梙is father ran a thriving company into the ground, thanks to sheer neglect. And he always expects Asher to step up and save his ass.
揕et him handle his own messes, man.?
揧eah. Maybe,?Asher replies. We both know he won抰。 揌annah is here.?
I stiffen at the attempt to change the subject and to gauge my reaction. 揧eah, I know.?
揝he pissed??
I shrug. 揝he抯 not thrilled.?I look over at Scarlett to confirm she抯 still talking with Katherine. She抯 not. Katherine is gone, and Scarlett is scrolling on her phone. Her expression is blank, giving me no indication of whether she抯 listening to or absorbing our conversation.
Asher makes an annoying humming sound in response.
Scarlett stands. 揈xcuse me.?