I opened my mouth to say something that would reassure him and myself that I could be a good partner. Of course, our decision the night before to make ourselves an official “us” had me questioning if I was ready and if I really would be a good girlfriend. I knew I wouldn’t cheat on him, but I had no idea if I was whole enough to be a true partner. That we were going to keep the relationship under wraps until the review of Thurmond was over made me feel slightly at ease. I’d have time to practice, to get it right, before anyone in my life was watching. Before I could form any of that into a coherent response, a woman’s voice interrupted our conversation.
“Eric?”
Both men glanced over their shoulders. A woman waved as she strode toward our table. She was tall and slim with loose blond hair in waves, a Marc Jacobs bag slung over one shoulder, and an iced coffee in her perfectly manicured hand.
“Speak of the devil,” Tyson muttered under his breath.
“Behave,” Eric chided.
“I thought that was you.” The low, kind of smoky voice sounded familiar. “I popped in for coffee and saw you over here. I had to come say hi.” She smiled at Tyson and Eric, showing perfectly straight, white teeth behind plump, glossy lips.
Tyson sat straighter. Eric cocked his head to the side with a pleasant, if somewhat cool, expression, but it looked forced. Who is this woman?
“How are you, Gretchen?” Eric’s gaze trailed to me for a moment, and my expression must have shown that I knew the name.
Why did I never consider the possibility we’d run into her?
“Oh, I’m great,” she said, a chipper note to her voice. She didn’t seem to register Tyson scowling at her and shot me only a cursory dismissive glance. “Heading into the office for a few hours. Have you seen Jacob? He’s been ducking my calls since my brother’s wedding.”
Eric pressed his lips together and shrugged.
“He’d call you back if he wanted to talk to you.” Tyson cast his gaze to the side, arms crossed over his chest.
She cocked her head to the side. “Always nice to see you, Tyson.”
“Go to hell,” he returned under his breath, and Eric shot him an exasperated look.
If the woman was surprised by Tyson’s harsh words, she didn’t show it. Her eyes narrowed, and one side of her mouth turned up. “You never liked me.”
“Cheaters rub me the wrong way.”
“Half of the gay men in Raleigh rubbed you the wrong way before I introduced you to Eric, so be nice.” She cast a sweet look to Eric, who pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re both adults,” he muttered from behind his hand.
“He started it. Anyway, can you tell Jacob to call me if you happen to—” She stopped, her gaze flicking up. “Oh, well here he is now.” Her tone changed, an iciness forming below the sweet surface.
Jake stopped short before sitting. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you, too. Eric and Tyson were protecting you from me, apparently.”
Jake wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and she seemed to notice me for the first time, a spark of shrewd assessment spreading across her face, and her eyes flicked to his hand on my shoulder.
Did he do that for my benefit or hers? I wasn’t sure if I should feel like a stage prop or a support structure.
Her pretty blue eyes narrowed slightly, and she seemed to be working through a problem in her head.
Somewhere deep in my body, the urge to rise and strike pulsed, to fight for what was mine. I shoved it down when Jake spoke again, his voice even.
“Do you need something, Gretchen?”
“You’ve been avoiding my calls. I want to meet. Some night this week?” She glanced at me again but said nothing. “But I’m sure you’ve been busy. I’ll have our secretaries set up dinner.”
“I think the lawyers can handle everything.”
“If I told you once, I told you a thousand times,” she began, brushing a strand of blond hair back off her neck in the most delicate way imaginable, “if people could just talk to one another, Eric and I wouldn’t make so much money. You never listen to me.”
Jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. I wondered if that was frustration at her saying it or guilt at it being true.
She shifted her catlike gaze again. “You should know he never listens, but I’m being so rude.” She stretched her hand in my direction. “I’m Gretchen Vanderkin-Shaw. I was the woman at this table once upon a time.” She laughed, a breathy, humorless sound. “It’s been a while now, I guess.” Something flashed across her face, breaking through the mask of quick-witted confidence. She looked sad, and I had a moment of sympathy for her. I’d only heard Jake’s side of their story, after all, and it was probably painful to see him with someone else. Her veneer reappeared quickly, though, the flash of sadness replaced with cool skepticism. “Anyway, who are you?”