It抯 become predictable: the cycle of our conversations. The joking and the taunting and the silence. The way one of us is a little more open than the other. We抮e never in sync梟ever both willing to give without wanting to take.
I pull out my phone and start to sort through emails that could all wait until Monday. At least my father will be happy about my initiative. He and Oliver got stranded in Miami due to a tropical storm. They traveled down south for some golfing and to meet with a commercial developer about offices for a new acquisition. In their extended absence, everything goes through me. I got home at three a.m. last night, or this morning, technically.
揑 finalized the branding for my new clothing line today.?The sound of Scarlett抯 voice is so unexpected, it startles me. I figured she was working on her side of the car. 揑t抯 called rouge. That抯 what these drawings are for. I抦 choosing a design team. I also approved the proofs for the August issue of Haute and chose the articles for the September one. That was after I interviewed five secretaries, because Leah already has her hands full running my schedule at Haute and I need more help.?
Questions form. I know nothing about what she does on a daily basis. That抯 why I asked earlier. But that was before I knew how much of a sham she sees this marriage as. Before I knew she抯 fucked another guy with my ring on her finger.
Anger and jealousy pool in my stomach like tar梔ark and toxic. 揑 don抰 give a single fuck what you do, Scarlett. Remember??I drawl the words like I have something better to do than to bother to say them, then continue scrolling through the hundreds of emails that have piled up.
She flinches. I catch the subtle recoil out of the corner of my eye before she turns away from me to stare out at the city lights. Troublesome emotions harden, sinking down through me like an anchor.
Why do I care?
Why can抰 she?
The rest of the ride is silent.
CHAPTER NINE
SCARLETT
It抯 hard to say which is more oppressive: the July heat or the five women staring at me with the intensity of a firing squad. 揂re you and Crew trying for kids??
I bite back the sarcastic retorts that come to mind in response to Eileen Waldorf抯 probing question.
I抦 still a virgin.
My husband is too busy with his mistresses.
Maybe in a decade or two.
Any of those comments would spread across the patio of my parents?Hamptons house like wildfire. I may have clawed my way to relevance and respect in parts of the business world, but it抯 come at the detriment of my standing among most of the women in New York society. My attempts to break out of the mold of marriage and kids haven抰 made me any friends.
Eileen is only a year older than me. Before she married Daniel Waldorf last summer, she worked at a public relations agency. She had their first child a few months ago. It抯 not uncommon for women to work梪ntil they get married. I抦 supposed to be joining the boards of charities and picking out nursery colors now that I抦 Mrs. Kensington.
Instead of answering Eileen抯 question with a sharp retort, I laugh and toss my hair. Just because I hate the game doesn抰 mean I can抰 play it. 揘o, not yet. We抮e enjoying this time together, just the two of us.?
Seeing as we got married a month ago. I keep that last part to myself. I know what抯 expected梐nd what passes as appropriate conversation梐t these sorts of events. It抯 why I avoid as many of them as I can. But there was no avoiding the Fourth of July party. I抳e attended every year for as long as I can remember.
Eileen nods and smiles, accepting my bullshit answer without batting an eye. I have a feeling I抣l be repeating it a lot. Enjoying is a stretch, but it抯 not a lie I抎 like to wait to have kids. It抯 not that I don抰 want them桰 do. But kids will erase distance between me and Crew. Things between us are uncomfortable and awkward and I don抰 know how to change that. It should be what I want. It抯 exactly what I did want.
I didn抰 realize he was making an effort until he stopped.
揈xcuse me, ladies.?His voice makes me stiffen. It gives me goosebumps, despite the fact temperatures today are hovering in the eighties. 揥ould you mind terribly if I steal my blushing bride away for a moment??Crew wraps an arm around my waist, acting the part of the doting husband so convincingly even I believe it for a second. I抦 sure he can feel how tense I am.
The ladies who were previously interrogating me all coo variations of how sweet and newlywed bliss. A couple of them are close to my mother抯 age. And yet they抮e all eyeing Crew with the same appreciative gaze he seems to coax out of every woman who sees him. I add his annoying attractiveness to the long list of things I抦 currently bothered by.
As soon as we抮e out of sight from the nosy women, his arm drops. I don抰 thank him for pulling me away梔on抰 say anything to him. It抯 strange and uncomfortable having him here. Having to act like a happy couple when we抮e the furthest thing from one.