Chapter Forty-Five
Grace
“What the hell was that about?” Huxley demands as soon as we’re in one of the private rooms set aside for guests who might need to rest. “‘Divorce him and marry me. I’ve always loved you, GG. You’re the only one for me. You never cared for Huxley Lasker, did you?’” he sneers. “What a touching display of affection. How would you have responded to him if I hadn’t been there?”
The rein on his temper is gone. I do my best to keep my cool even though frustration burns in my chest so hard, it’s painful to draw in air. I only wanted to show how irritating and upsetting it is to have my concerns not taken seriously enough. Instead, Adam proposed and created an unnecessary drama for me to handle. “It wasn’t me, just him,” I say in a calm enough voice.
The veins in Huxley’s forehead visibly pulse. “Don’t treat me like an idiot, Grace. You planned this auction. You knew he was going to be here.”
“I was just as shocked as you were at seeing him. There are other people putting the auction together at the foundation. He could’ve gotten an invitation through one of them.”
“ Riiiiight . That’s why you were conveniently wearing his jewelry.” Huxley’s eyes burn with rage as they rake over me.
“I only wore it to show you how infuriating it is to have you ignore me!”
“I ignored you?” He glares at me like I just backhanded him. “I bought you emeralds specifically to match your dress! You encouraged him by putting on the garnets!”
There’s no talking to him. He’s so hung up on the jewelry, like that’s the sole problem between us. Old bitterness boils over. “Just the way you encourage Madison by brushing away my concerns!”
“I didn’t encourage her!” he shoots back. “I spoke to her more than once, and she promised to address your concerns.”
Is he kidding me? “Then why does she insist on being rude to me? Or challenging me? Or implying that she’s having an inappropriate relationship with you?”
“What?” He just looks dumbfounded. How ridiculous. If he’d spoken to her, he would know the big parts of her transgressions. Him playing dumb only stokes my anger.
If he’s going to act innocent, I’m going to list everything she’s done that’s pissed me off, including the ones I never told him about because they seemed so small and petty. Maybe one of them will jostle his memory or make him realize how horrible his vaunted assistant is.
“When she insisted you wanted ‘Amazing Grace’ to be the theme of our wedding—”
“ She told you ?”
I ignore his outburst and continue, “—I thought, Okay, he’s upset over the situation, so I’ll just go along with it . When she told me it was your wish to have white chrysanthemums rather than the roses I wanted because chrysanthemums symbolize the Emperor of Japan, I also went along because you said you were busy in London and I didn’t want to argue.”
He looks at me like I just sprouted a cucumber out of my forehead. “I was busy, but why would I want anything to do with the Emperor of Japan?”
I shrug. “Beats me. Maybe because your aunt is Asian? You would have to ask your precious, perfect Madison.”
His eyes narrow at my sarcastic tone, but I’m past caring. The rational, calm speeches I’ve prepared are mentally ripped into pieces and thrown up in the air. All that’s left behind is seething resentment and fury at the utter disrespect I’ve received.
“Then she wanted to advise me on what to wear to the wedding. So I told her to stay the hell away because no way in hell I was letting her put me in a literal potato sack, saying it was what you really wanted. Then I picked a black dress because it seemed fitting, given how you wanted to rub it in my face that this marriage wasn’t going to last.”
“Grace—”
I lift a finger. “ I’m not finished . That isn’t all that she did. She then refused to let me see you when I went over around lunch break on the day you sent me daisies. She said you were too busy and important, and a mere wife wasn’t entitled to your time, unless I made an appointment first.”
“ What the fuck? ”
“Then she made sure I would smell her perfume, and you came home that night wearing the same scent. Tell me: what was I supposed to think at that point?”