Chapter 23
I broke away from Colson, feeling the need to check on the kitchen despite knowing that the caterer had everything under control.
It was a nervous habit I couldn’t shake—making sure every detail was perfect, especially when so much was at stake.
The ballroom was bustling with guests by the time I returned, but before I could slip back to Colson’s side, I was ambushed by Lillian Windsor and Colette Nelson, two women who had made high school a living hell for me.
They cornered me with the same predatory smiles they’d worn back then, their eyes sharp and assessing.
My gaze darted across the room, searching for Colson, but he was engrossed in conversation with two business associates, completely unaware of my distress.
I swallowed hard, steeling myself for whatever they had planned.
“We want to invite you to join the Garden Club,” Lillian began, her tone sweet but dripping with condescension. “We have tea every Tuesday at noon.”
The offer hung in the air like a trap. I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I appreciate the invite,” I said carefully, “but I must decline. I’m usually at Ashworth Financial at that time.”
They wrinkled their noses in unison, as if the very idea of work was offensive. “Why are you working?” Colette asked, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.
I stroked the diamond necklace that rested against my chest, the coolness of the gems grounding me. “I like working,” I replied, keeping my tone even. “I attended college to do just that.”
They both laughed, a practiced, hollow sound. “We went to college too,” Lillian said dismissively, “but it’s not necessary for us to work.”
I forced a smile, my patience wearing thin. “I enjoy knowing I can see Colson during the day. We’re newlyweds, after all.”
Their smiles tightened, and I could see them recalculating, trying to find another angle of attack. “That’s sweet,” Colette said, her tone patronizing. “But you need to be out in society. You’ve been married several months and haven’t joined any of the committees.”
I knew all about their committees—thinly veiled excuses for the women of Windmere Haven to drink and gossip under the guise of charity work.
They’d spend twenty minutes discussing a coat drive or a fundraiser for a women’s shelter, then lose themselves in hours of trivial chatter. The thought of it bored me to tears.
“I’m aware of the committees,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “But I find my work more fulfilling. Colson supports me in that.”
Their expressions faltered for a split second, a chink in their perfectly polished armor. They weren’t used to being refused, especially not by someone they once considered beneath them.
“That’s… admirable,” Lillian finally said, though her eyes told a different story. “But don’t forget, Joey, you’re part of this community now. We have certain expectations.”
I inwardly cringed at the use of my nickname but nodded, not trusting myself to say more. My stomach churned, a mix of nausea and the tension of the moment. I desperately wanted to escape their scrutiny, to find Colson and let him shield me from the subtle venom they were spitting.
“I appreciate your concern,” I said, forcing a final smile. “But I have to get back. There are still a few things I need to check on.”
I turned away before they could respond, making a beeline for Colson. As I reached him, his arm slipped around my waist, and I felt the tension in my shoulders start to ease. He looked down at me, concern flickering in his eyes.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, leaning into him. “Just another day in paradise,” I murmured, trying to push the encounter from my mind.
But their words lingered, a reminder that I was still seen as an outsider, no matter how many diamonds I wore or how seamlessly I navigated their world.
They were right about one thing—I was in this now, and there were expectations I’d have to meet.
The question was, how far was I willing to go to keep up appearances?
Circling the room with Colson by my side, I felt like a queen surveying her kingdom.
We met with many of his associates, each introduction a subtle reminder of the world I’d stepped into.
When we approached Cain Fairfax, a billionaire real estate developer with global interests, I couldn’t miss the predatory gleam in his eyes as they settled on me.
He was young, only thirty, a confirmed bachelor with half the single women in the room trailing after him like moths to a flame.
“Cain Fairfax, may I present my wife, Josephine,” Colson introduced, his tone cordial but firm.
Cain smiled, extending his hand to me. His grip was warm, firm, and he clasped my hand with both of his, lingering just a bit longer than necessary. His smile seemed genuine, but something about it made my skin prickle.
“Are there more at home like you?” he asked, his voice smooth and laced with a hint of something suggestive.
A flush crept up my neck, and I felt a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. “No, just me,” I replied, my voice steady despite the unease crawling up my spine.
“Pity,” he said, his eyes raking over me. “A woman as beautiful as you must have great genes.”
Before I could respond, Colson stepped in, his arm slipping possessively around my waist. “Cain, in a room full of beautiful women, I’m sure you can find someone else to catch your attention other than my wife.”
Cain’s smirk didn’t falter as he held his hands up in mock surrender. “I meant no disrespect,” he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.
I forced a smile, but anxiety gnawed at my insides, the edge of it sharp and unrelenting. Normally, I would have reached for a drink to calm my nerves, but tonight that wasn’t an option. Colson’s hand tightened around my waist, grounding me, giving me the courage I needed to speak.
“I’m sure you didn’t,” I said, meeting Cain’s gaze head-on. “But you should know, I’m not someone who’s easily impressed by flattery. And I’m certainly not here to be anyone’s entertainment.”
Cain’s smirk faded slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “Of course not,” he said, but the light in his eyes dimmed, the predatory edge blunted.
"Colson, this one is a spitfire," Cain remarked, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and challenge.
"That’s why I chose her," Colson replied smoothly, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to remind me of his presence.
Cain nodded, a sly smile playing on his lips as he grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing server. He handed one to me, his eyes filled with something that made me uneasy.
"A toast," he said, raising his glass. "To love rather than money."
Before I could react, Colson gently took the glass from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. "Sweetheart, you told me not to let you drink," he reminded me, then downed the champagne in one gulp.
I breathed a silent sigh of relief. With the pregnancy still a secret, I didn’t want to raise any suspicion. The only ones who knew were my parents and Vaughn, who had figured it out on his own.
Cain chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re no fun, Colson."
"But I keep my promises," Colson replied, his voice steady, leaving no room for argument.
Just as the tension was thickening, Melissa Hartley appeared, tapping Cain on the shoulder. "Care for a dance?" she asked, her voice sweet but insistent.
Cain hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on me before he turned to Melissa. "Of course," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.
As they walked away, I leaned into Colson, whispering, "Thank you."
He kissed the top of my head, his breath warm against my ear. "I’d like a breather. Come upstairs with me," he murmured, his voice a soft command.
"Let me just check the kitchen first," I replied, glancing toward the bustling staff.
Colson didn’t let go of my hand as he led me to the kitchen, where I quickly ensured that everything was on schedule.
The appetizers were almost finished, and the buffet would soon be set up around the perimeter of the dance floor.
Satisfied that all was in order, I allowed Colson to guide me up the grand staircase.
His arm stayed firmly around me as we ascended, my heels clicking against the steps. We moved swiftly down the hall, but just as we passed Vaughn’s old room, the door swung open.
Vaughn stood there, looking disheveled, his shirt untucked and hair mussed. Behind him, Serena lay sprawled on the bed, her dress hiked up around her waist. I tried not to react, but the scene was hard to ignore.
"Dinner will be ready soon. Make sure you’re downstairs," I said, my voice steady despite the knot forming in my stomach.
As we continued down the hall, I glanced back and caught Vaughn’s gaze. He licked his lips seductively, a knowing smirk playing on his face. He knew exactly where we were headed and what we planned to do.
Colson didn’t look back. His focus was solely on me, his hand guiding me forward. When we reached the master bedroom, he closed the door behind us, the world outside fading away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, grateful for the sanctuary he provided. "Let’s take that breather," I whispered, leaning into him.
Colson smiled, his hands sliding down to the small of my back. "Gladly," he said, and in that moment, everything else ceased to matter.
I leaned against the cool granite countertop of the closet island, my cheek pressed to the surface as I struggled to catch my breath.
Behind me, Colson’s firm grip on my hips anchored me in the moment.
The lingering heat between us was almost too much to bear, and I shivered as his thumb brushed over my skin.
“That was delicious, my bride,” he murmured, his voice low and satisfied.
I smiled, the corners of my mouth lifting despite the flush still coloring my cheeks. “We should get back,” I managed, my voice slightly hoarse.
He slowly withdrew, his touch gentle as he helped me stand upright.
The moment our eyes met, something dark and intense flashed between us.
Before I could say anything, he pulled me into a searing kiss, his mouth claiming mine with an urgency that made my knees weak.
His tongue tangled with mine, a dance as familiar as it was exhilarating.
When he finally pulled back, I was breathless again, but for a different reason. “I’d like you all night tonight,” he whispered, his voice a delicious promise that sent shivers down my spine.
I laughed softly, my head still spinning from our encounter. “I’m not sure if I have the energy for that,” I admitted, though the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the night was tempting.
He wrapped me in a warm embrace, his arms solid and reassuring around me. “Let’s get some food in you,” he suggested, his tone both tender and playful.
I nodded, knowing he was right. With a gentle nudge, he steered me toward the bathroom so I could clean up and reapply my lip gloss. I took a moment to steady myself, smoothing down my hair and fixing my makeup.
When I emerged, Colson was waiting for me, looking every bit as immaculate as he had when we’d first entered the bedroom. It was almost infuriating how he could remain so composed, but it was also one of the things I loved about him.
As we walked down the hall, the lights in Vaughn’s old bedroom caught my eye.
They were off, the room shrouded in darkness.
I wondered if he had returned to the party downstairs or if he was indulging in another round with Serena somewhere.
The thought made my stomach turn, so I quickly shoved it to the back of my mind.
When we reached the ballroom, the festive energy was palpable.
Dinner was in full swing, with laughter and the clinking of glasses filling the air.
I tightened my grip on Colson’s arm, drawing strength from his presence as we rejoined our guests.
The world outside our little bubble felt distant, and for tonight, I was content to let it stay that way.
The room spun in a blur of glittering gowns and tailored tuxedos as Colson and I made our rounds, exchanging pleasantries with his business associates and friends.
I tried to keep a smile plastered on my face, but the nausea that had been gnawing at me all evening finally became too much.
I needed a moment to myself, something to settle my uneasy stomach.
"I'll be right back," I whispered to Colson, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before slipping away from the crowd.
The kitchen was a refuge, fairly quiet with just two attendants heating food.
Now that dinner was served, most of the staff was in the ballroom.
I headed straight for the refrigerator, grateful that I’d stashed a bottle of ginger ale earlier.
The cold bottle felt like a lifeline in my hand as I twisted off the cap, the hiss of carbonation a small relief.
I took a long sip, letting the cool liquid soothe my throat and hoping it would do the same for my stomach.
"Josephine?"
I almost dropped the bottle at the sound of Simone's voice. I hadn’t heard her come in. She was standing in the doorway, her brow furrowed in what looked like genuine concern.
“Simone,” I said, attempting to sound casual as I set the bottle on the counter. “What do you want?”
She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I was looking for Logan, are you feeling okay?”
For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. Simone had never been one to show much concern for me—at least, not sincerely. I searched her expression for any hint of mockery, but all I saw was a question.
“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to brush it off, but I could see she wasn’t buying it.
She tilted her head, her eyes softening. “Josephine, you know you can talk to me, right? If something’s wrong…”
I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s nothing serious. Just a little nausea. I’m sure it’s just the excitement of the night.”
Simone watched me for a beat longer, then nodded slowly. “Well, if you need anything, let me know. We might not always see eye to eye, but I do care.”
Her words caught me off guard. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just nodded, offering a quiet, “Thank you, Simone.”
No use poking at her the way I wanted. She was trying and since I promised Colson to be civil for the holidays, I would keep it.
She gave me a small smile, then turned to leave, pausing at the door. “You should try to enjoy the night. It’s a big deal, this party.”
As she left, I leaned against the counter, my hand still clutching the bottle of ginger ale. Maybe she was right. I had to get through tonight, at least, and if Simone was extending an olive branch, maybe things were changing. Or maybe I was just too tired to care.
I took another sip, steadying myself before I headed back into the fray.